I was really surprised that there aren't more fanfic's for this little family. The feels will get heavier as the story continues.

Sealand is around 6 years old in this fic.

Tino yawned, and stretched, as he woke up in the early hours of the morning. He rolled over, and smiled, as he was greeted with the face of a sleeping Swede.

He kissed Berwald's cheek lightly, before getting up and heading towards the kitchen; planning to make breakfast for his little family. It was close to Christmas, and Matthias, Lukas, and Emil were supposed to be coming over this afternoon; for a family get together.

The Finnish man smiled to himself, as he thought about his little family. He and Berwald had been married for just over 6 years, and had adopted their son, Peter, only 3 years ago.

He would never forget the day, when he walked into the house, and saw the Swede holding the boy in his arms. Peter had been sobbing, afraid that his new parents would not like him. The memory of the tall blonde rocking, and saying sweet nothings to the small child still made Tino's heart swell with joy.
Not many people ever saw the compassionate side of his husband.

Tino planned to make sultsina, a traditional Finnish dish. It was made of a thin rye bread, that is cooked on a griddle, almost like a tortilla. Then filled with a cream of wheat mixture, and folded. He liked to serve his with cream, and a mixture of cinnamon and sugar.

The Fin walked into the kitchen, and went to the counter; pulling a dish cloth off of a bowl, that was filled with the rye mixture that he had allowed to rise overnight. After sprinkling some flour over the granite countertop, he dumped the dough out, forming it into a log, before cutting it into about 15 pieces.
Once the pieces were cut, he placed them over to the side, and began to flatten each portion of the dough with a rolling pin.

As Berwald woke up, his nose was filled with a rich sweet smell. A small smirk crept up the side of his lips, as he thought about his Finnish wife.

He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed; taking his glasses off the nightstand and putting them on. The tall Swede lifted his arms over his head, hearing a few joints pop as he stretched.

Berwald slipped his feet into his blue slippers; walking down the staircase, and into the kitchen. He saw Tino standing over a griddle, cooking what could only be his famous Sultsina.
The tall blonde slipped his arms around the Fin's waist, and kissed the side of his neck. "G'd m'rn'ng." He said softly.

Tino laughed to himself a little; turning his head and kissing Berwald's soft lips. "Good morning, Berwald." He replied, using his spatula to point towards the counter; where a white mug sat, filled with a steaming brown liquid.

"Th'nk y'u, T'no." The Swede muttered, unraveling his arms from the small waist, so he could reach for the mug. He took his place a the large wooden table, on the other side of the counter; and took a sip of the bitter liquid.

Once the Fin had finished cooking all of the rye tortillas, and placing the filling in a bowl; beside two small bowls of cream, and cinnamon sugar.
"Berwald." He said, as the man looked up from his paper. "Could you please go get Peter up."

The Swede nodded, and folded his paper; laying it on the table as he stood.

"Thank you." Tino said, giving his husband a quick kiss, as he walked back to get the plates and dishes.

"Y'ur w'lc'me." Berwald replied, turning and walking out of the kitchen.

Peter's room was just down the hall from his parent's room. Berwald opened the door, and saw a lump on his son's bed

He swung the door open, careful to avoid the various toys and clothes that littered the floor, as he neared the bed containing his son.

Berwald brushed a hand through the sandy blonde locks. "P't'r, t'me t' g't up." He said gently, placing another hand on the boy's shoulder. The boy made no move to get up, and the Swede shook the boy a little more.
"P't'r. M'ma m'de br'kf'st, y'u n'd t' g't up."

The small form began to move. "Dad?" A sleep voice asked, as the boy rolled over; two small blue eyes looked up into the older pair.

"G'd m'rn'ng, P't'r." Berwald said gently, pulling the sheets off the boy. "'t's t'me f'r br'kf'st."

Peter closed his eyes and groaned, pulling the covers back up to his shoulders. "I don't want to." He mumbled.

"'f y'u d'n't g't up, y'u w'n't g't t' se' y'ur 'ncl's." The Swede offered, knowing how much his son loved to see his uncles; especially his rowdy Uncle Denmark.

The micro nation buried his face in his face in his sheets, and began coughing. "I don't feel good, Dad." He muttered, breaking into another coughing fit.

Berwald pressed his hand to the boy's head and frowned; Peter was defiantly warm, and the Swede hoped that is was nothing serious. He gathered his son into his arms, plucking a blanket off of the bed and wrapping is around the boy in his arms.

Peter buried his face into the crook of his father's neck, giving a few weak coughs, as the Swede walked down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Tino smiled when he heard footsteps coming towards him. "Oh good, you finally got him u..." He began, but stopped when he saw Berwald; a small form held in his arms, and dirty blonde hair pressed up under his chin.
He immediately walked over to the tall Swede, and began to fuss over the boy.

"What's wrong with him?" He asked, as purple eyes locked with blue.

"C'ugh'ng, 'nd f'v'r." Berwald replied, as he passed the boy to Tino.

The Fin took the boy into his arms, as his husband looked in one of the upper cabinets for a thermometer. He reached a hand up, and felt the boy's head for himself; frowning when he felt the unusual warmth.

"H'r'."

Tino looked up, and saw Berwald holding out a white, plastic thermometer. He shifted the micro nation to one arms, and took the device; muttering a 'thank you' as he turned his attention back to the sick child in his arms.

"Peter." He cooed gently, as his husband patted the boy's back. "Peter, I need you to open your mouth, so I can take your temperature. Will you please open up?"

The boy coughed, but turned his head and opened his mouth; allowing his father to slip the device underneath his tongue. "Mama." He mumbled, trying to keep his mouth closed as he spoke. "I don't feel good."

"Shh, I know Sea." Tino cooed, rocking from side to side, as he rubbed the boy's back. "Let's just hope that you feel better before this afternoon; you remember, that your Uncle Matthias is coming over."

"Yay." The boy muttered weakly, as the thermometer beeped. Berwald took it from his mouth, and frowned at the reading.

"What is is?" Tino asked, as Peter buried his head in the crook of the Fin's neck.

The Swede turned the device, so that his spouse could see. "102.8." Berwald answered.

Tino sighed, and shifted Peter around. "Berwald, please get the children's Tylenol from the cabinet." He said, setting the thermometer on the counter. "The grape kind."

Sweden grunted, walking over and reaching into one of the upper cabinets; grabbing the desired medicine. He brought the box down, and fished a spoon out of a drawer.
After measuring out the purple liquid into the spoon, he turned back to his wife.

"Peter, open up." The Fin said gently, trying to get the hot boy to look up, so that they could get the medicine in him. "Daddy has some medicine for you; it'll make you feel better."

The boy groaned, wrapping his arms around Tino's neck, and burying his face deeper into the crook of his neck. "D'n't w'nna." He mumbled into Finland's shoulder.

"I know Sea." He said affectionatly, pulling the boy's arms from his neck. "But you're not going to get better if you don't take it."

"Mhhnnmmm." The boy whined, still not looking up.

Tino sighed, thinking of something that would get the child to take the medicine; he hated to force the boy into anything, but this was for his own good.
"If you don't take the medicine, then you won't get to play with Uncle Matthias this afternoon." He said gently, seeing a tired blue eye peek up. "And do you know what?"

"What?" Peter mumbled.

"He told me that heh was planning on bringing his axe with him." He told the child; even though he absolutely hated it, when the Dane brought that thing over.

The boy paused for a few seconds, weighing his options. He eventually groaned, and turned his head, so that Sweden could pop the spoon into his mouth; dispensing the purple liquid.

Tino gave Berwald a thankful grin, as the micro nation buried his head back into his neck. "Come on, Sea." The Fin said gently, walking out of the kitchen. "Let's get you back to bed."

TBC...