With a damp rag in hand, Tino used both hands to diligently scrub all residue off of the kitchen counter. There were a few bits of what looked like dried grape jelly on the counter's surface—from what he imagined was Peter's lunch several hours ago. Thankfully, with the hot water spigot only a few feet away, Tino scrubbed the bits of dried jelly right off of the counter, leaving it with a shiny surface. He sighed happily, looking around at the kitchen he'd just cleaned by himself, happy with his work.

He was just about to go put the damp rag in the laundry room to be cleaned when Peter burst through the front door and swooped into the kitchen, planting himself down in one of the kitchen chairs. "What's for dinner?" He asked breathlessly, smiling widely.

Tino smiled a bit and held a finger up, "Hold on," he said and came back into the kitchen after a few seconds. "Peter, I haven't started cooking dinner yet," Tino laughed. "You're back early."

"Really?" The boy cried, still a tad bit breathless. "But I thought you'd've already made everything!"

"No," Tino said a bit defiantly, "You left your mess all over from lunch and I had to clean it up and the rest of the kitchen as well."

"Oh," Peter let out in an ashamed tone. It was apparent from his face that he had entirely forgotten about cleaning up after himself. "Sorry!" He pleaded, trying his best to look apologetic. "I just…forgot." And added a nervous laugh for good measure.

Tino sighed lightly in response, giving Peter a faint smile. "It's fine," He replied. Tino turned away to the kitchen cupboards and pulled out a pan and set it on top of the stove, quickly working his hands to get a start on the family's dinner.

"Oh, Mama!" Peter added with a smile, "I'll help you clean up after dinner if you want!"

Tino quickly turned around, pan still in his right hand, and stared at the boy for a moment. "…What did you just call me?" The petite man asked in a shocked tone.

The boy's face looked panicked. "Uhm…Mama?" He was averting his gaze, too embarrassed to look one of his adoptive parents in the eyes. "I thought you didn't care…B—Berwald told me to call him 'Papa', s—so I just thought that'd you'd be 'Mama'. I'm sorry."

"No," Tino said in a bit of a defeated voice, "It's…it's alright. Just go play in your room or something, okay?" He smiled weakly back at the boy, and the boy just meekly nodded.

It had only been a few weeks since Berwald had decided to adopt the short, blond-headed boy named Peter off of an adoptive site online. The couple had long since wanted children but were obviously unable to produce their own.

Tino Väinämöinen was obviously a man of the 'caretaker' type. When he and Berwald had first gotten together, Berwald referred to him as the 'perfect wife'. Tino of course, thought he was joking, but it turned out that the tall stoic man he had fallen in love with was serious.

As Tino prepared a vegetable medley soup for dinner, he wondered about things. I know I'm pretty short and not very muscular…But am I really that feminine? He knew that he was going to be very sensitive about being called 'Mommy' in any sort of case.

Tino lay on his side, with his hands under his head. He was still thinking, still wondering if he was really that feminine. When he was younger, he never thought of himself as 'girly', but neither did anyone else. He was just…small.

The bed shifted a bit as Berwald slipped in, wrapping his arms around Tino's slender waist and rested his head on the man's shoulder. "Wh's wr'ng?" He said softly. "Y're t'nse…"

"Berwald…" Tino started in a gentle voice, "Do you think I'm feminine?"

His 'husband' pulled him over so that they were now looking at each other in the eyes. Berwald wasn't wearing his glasses, so Tino could see his piercing eyes. "Wh'dya me'n?" He asked, obviously confused.

Tino let out a small, almost inaudible sigh and sat up a bit, resting his back against the bed frame. "I know I'm sort of small and thin and I guess my figure is sort of girly…but do you think I'm more like a woman than I am a man?"

Berwald could tell by Tino's tone he was really torn about this. He didn't say anything, though. Just looked at him, with his blue-green eyes half-closed.

"Would you love me more if I was a woman?" Tino asked, his high-pitched voice cracked a bit. He was going to cry.

Berwald inched closer to him, and kissed him deeply, his tongue starting to brush against Tino's lips, but Tino squirmed and violently pushed him back. "You're not answering me." He was crying now. The room was dark, but the window was open, and there were a few lights outside. Berwald saw the tears reflecting on Tino's cheeks. "You always used to consider me your 'wife', remember?"

Berwald's eyes dimmed. "T'no," He said deeply, "I l've you, n' matt'r wh't 'nyone s'ys 'bout you." His tone was serious. "I l've th' m'n T'no V'nämöin'n. I d'n't kn'w 'ny w'man by th't n'me, d' you?"

Tino blinked.

"'F you d'n't w'nt 'nyone th'nkin' of you 's a w'man, t'll me!" His massive hands were now on Tino's thin shoulders. "I'll d' 'nythin' you w'nt me t', bec'se I l've you, T'no. Tru', it'd b' int'restin' if we c'uld h've our 'wn kids, b't P'ter's 'nough, 'sn't 'e?"

Berwald was right; adoption could be more mentally rewarding than having a biological child. Adoption enabled a couple to choose a child, not leaving the whole operation up to faith and hope that you like what's yours.

"Berwald," Tino sniffled quietly and smiled. "You always know what to say to make me feel better."

The stoic Swede said nothing in response to his Finnish lover. He merely slid his hand up the other's side and kissed him. As Tino slid himself underneath Berwald, he knew that having a family with this man was one of the best decisions he could ever make.