WHOAAA Chapter six, guys. Hope you enjoy.
Not really anything to say tonight (this morning?) because I'm too tired and trying to write chapter 8 (7 is done~).
And yes, there *will* be smut. Soon. Very soon.
Sooner than you think.
That being said, I think Tino and Berwald are both smokin' hot. 'Nuff said.

Chapter 6

Tino scanned the crowd at the cafe once, twice, three times, keeping his eyes peeled for the faintest hint of red. He was fooled many times throughout his search for Berwald and his red carnation by crimson lipstick and scarlet hair and was ready to quit and consider himself stood up when the cafe door behind him opened suddenly, making way for the scariest-looking man Tino had ever seen, with a small, thickly-eyebrowed boy hovering around him, and most importantly, a red carnation pinned to his blazer pocket.

He wanted to go home, dammit.

XxX

He wanted to go home, but no, instead, he was sitting across from a bespectacled man with a frightening look in his sea-green eyes and a small boy in his lap, cautiously sipping a peppermint mocha latte Berwald had bought for him.

"So... I finally get to meet you!" Tino said in a quaky voice, forcing a smile on his face.

Berwald smiled back, but the expression looked more like a grimace than a smile. "Nice t'meet ya too," he said quietly, his voice deep like a Lion's rumbling roar, "and this is m'son, Pete." He motioned to the boy on his lap.

"Hi Peter," Tino smiled at the boy, who was infinitely less scary than his father, "I'm Tino, your papa's told me a lot about you." Peter giggled.

"I bet my papa thinks you're pretty," he said, the innocent smile of a seven-year-old melting Tino's heart.

Berwald almost choked on his coffee, requiring a pounding on the back from one of the waitresses. His face turned a deep red and he pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. "Yeah," he mumbled, looking down, "I do."

"Papa's telling the truth 'cause he only tells the truth when he's with me or Walter," Peter grinned proudly.

Berwald prayed that his son would just shut up and Tino wouldn't ask who Walter was.

"Who's Walter?" asked Tino.

Berwald would have choked on his coffee again if he hadn't chugged it all down the last time. "He's... Me n' Pete's... Uh... Teddy bear."

Tino almost wanted to reach over and hug Berwald and Peter. This father-and-son pair was almost too cute. Maybe Berwald isn't such a scary guy, he thought, He wasn't so scary when I talked to him online... he recalled what Berwald had said in the "looking for" section on his profile: " Someone who can see into me and love me for who I am."

I think I get it now, Tino realized.

This "inner Berwald," underneath the shell of stoicism and scariness, was warm, bashful, and such a mother hen, from what Tino could see after being with this man for the few weeks they had known each other, yet he could also sense a strong pride within his heart, a promise to defend what he held dear to the death.

Tino took another sip of his latte, gazing at Berwald and Peter again. Peter was now trying to put on Berwald's glasses and he was trying to take them back, lecturing his son on how it would ruin his eyesight if he put on other peoples' glasses.

Yeah, I don't think I'd mind being loved by someone like this... he smiled. He was a brave, badass Finn, he wouldn't let Berwald's rough exterior deter him from the gem inside.

He almost didn't notice when Berwald took the flower off his jacket and slipped it behind Tino's ear. "Fer you," he said with a small smile. Tino felt his heart swell.

"Thanks," he smiled back.

XxX

"Do you have any place to go in mind?" asked Tino, finishing his coffee.

Berwald hung his head. Tino jolted, he almost looked like a large puppy being reprimanded. "'M sorry," he said, "I had som'thin' nice planned but I couldn' find a babysitter fer Pete'..."

Tino couldn't help but smile and place one of his small, dove-like hands over Berwald's. "It's all right," he said, "the more the merrier." Resting his chin on the table, Berwald looked at Tino, his sea-glass-green eyes large and focused intensely on him. It was a hard expression to read, almost scary, but Tino could see a bit of admiration behind that frosty sea-glass. He sighed contentedly, rubbing his thumb against the back of Berwald's hand. "I wouldn't mind babysitting him with you sometimes, he seems like a good kid. You raised him well."

"Thank ya," said Berwald. Stoking his fatherly pride gave him the willpower to sit up again. He liked the feeling of Tino's fingertips rubbing against the back of his hand, and placed his other hand on top of Tino's. The back of Tino's hand was smooth and pale, and reminded him of the soft glow of an incandescent lamp. He had to grit his teeth and curl his toes to keep from picking that hand up and kissing it.

Tino put his other hand on top of Berwald's, effectively completing their stack of hands. "Hand-wich," he chuckled, "like sandwich but different!" Peter leaned over and put his hands on top, and Berwald let deep peals of laughter rumble from within.

From afar, we probably do look like a family, he mused as Tino lifted his hands and let the tower tumble, much to his and Peter's amusement. His heart pounded as Peter leaned up to give Tino a kiss on the cheek. He only kissed his papa, and before the divorce, his mama, that way. It was obvious Tino already had Peter's approval... Maybe he had found his new "wife"?

XxX

There was a playground near the cafe that Berwald and Peter usually frequented; that was where they went.

Peter immediately made a beeline for the swings as Berwald and Tino seated themselves on a bench in view.

"You really love your son, don't you?" Tino asked, holding Berwald's hand.

"Mm-hmm," the larger man replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "M'ex-wife left us a while ago. He's th' only family I've got. Can't not love m'own flesh n' blood, 'specially when I've been blessed with such a sweet boy." His eyes glazed over. "He's worried 'bout me, y'know? He's th' one who wanted me to set up a profile on that datin' site, and he's th' one who wanted us t' meet up." He turned to Tino. "I was scared," he murmured quietly, leaning in so only Tino could hear. "M'face scared away m'ex-wife. Didn' want t' scare you too."

Tino felt his face redden. There was no way of coming up with a respectful verbal response other than "Mm-hmm," so he squeezed Berwald's hand and decided to tell him the truth.

"I was a little scared at first," Tino admitted, "Like... You're so tall and stuff." He reached up to itch his cheek sheepishly. Glancing at the dejected expression on Berwald's face, he added, "Um, I didn't mean that you're a scary person!" He looked down. "I saw past it... You're really adorable."

"Adorable? Don' think anyone's ever described me that way," Berwald smirked, "At least, not since I was seven."

"Yeah. Um... What I mean is... Man, how do I explain this?" Tino felt his mouth grow dry as he scrabbled for an explanation. "It's what's inside that counts... Or some cliché shit like that."

"I get it." Berwald shushed him with a long finger placed against Tino's lips. Secretly, he was brimming with joy: he had actually found someone considerate of Berwald's inner self, and strong enough to look past his frightening glares and stoic nature to the playful papa he really was. It almost made him want to say "forever" after only a couple weeks of knowing Tino.

Peter rushed over to the couple. "Papa!" he called, "I want you and mama to push me on the swing!"

"Mama?" asked Tino quietly.

"Mm-hmm." Berwald allowed himself another grin, "The kid adores ya, Tino."

"Well then," he blushed, walking over to the swing set.

So do I, thought Berwald.

XxX

Berwald, Tino, and Peter had fun running around on the playground together, pushing Peter on the swings, and taking turns on the slide until it was near 4:30 PM and the autumn sun was beginning to set.

"Did you drive here?" asked Berwald.

"No, I took a bus."

"It's gettin' dark, I can give ya a ride..." Berwald absentmindedly scratched his cheek. Too soon? I hope I don't seem like a creep...

His doubts were nullified when Tino took him by the hand and said, "Sounds good."

Soon, they were in Berwald's Volvo, with Berwald driving, Tino sitting in the front passenger seat, and Peter buckled down in the back. Tino gave Berwald directions to his house, occasionally pointing out which street to turn onto.

Berwald pulled into the asphalt driveway. "'Ere we are," he said.

Tino's pouty lips pulled into a frown. He actually had been having a nice day with Berwald and didn't want it to end. Of course, the guy had to get his kid home, but Tino didn't want him to leave without taking a parting shot at his heart. Tino oh-so-gently spidered his fingertips up Berwald's arm, relishing in the larger man's shivers, and whispered coyly, "Walk me to the door?"

Berwald put on his best seductive smirk and led Tino out of the car. "I'll be back soon, Pete'. Gonna walk Mr. Väinämöinen to his house."

"Take your time, Papa." Peter replied, sitting on the edge of his seat with an affirmative, "go-for-it-papa!" smile on his face.

They stood on his doorstep, murmuring breathy "thank you"s. "I like you," Tino smiled, "can we go out again sometime?" It was now or never. He leaned into Berwald's shoulder and rested his arms around the taller man's waist. Berwald's large hands immediately went to caress Tino's back.

"Name a date 'nd I'll pick ya up," he answered, "I like ya too, yer a good person."

"Aww."

Berwald looked down at the face of the man he was holding. Tino's plump cheeks were flushed and his nose was slightly reddened from the cold, reminding him of apples, and his violet eyes were hooded. Sand-colored bangs obscured his forehead and framed his face, and his lips, slightly parted, were a dusty pink begging to be kissed. His knees went weak when Tino's tongue peeked out to moisten the crescents, sexier than any porn Berwald had ever seen.

"C'n I kiss ya?" he asked quietly, moving to cover a throat-clearing cough with his hand.

Tino grinned, those pink lips turning upwards and sending dimples into his cheeks. "Do you even have to ask?"

Berwald gave a small chuckle and leaned down. "Oops." His nose bumped into Tino's.

Tino laughed. "Oh man, we're so awkward. Let's try that again."

Berwald giggled and leaned in again, silencing Tino's laughter with a passionate kiss to the lips.

He wouldn't want to force Tino into making out with him–he was a gentleman, of course–but he hoped Tino got the clue that Berwald really, really liked him.

He broke off the kiss before he got too needy and with a peck on the cheek, turned to leave. "I'll call you tomorrow," he said.

"Good night!" Tino called, "Tell Peter good night too!"

Berwald smiled back at Tino and waved as he got back into his Volvo. "I will. G'nigh' t' ya too!"

XxX

As they drove home, Peter leaned his face against the car window, chilled by the autumn night air. "Papa," he said quietly, "I want Tino to be my mama."

"Maybe," answered Berwald without taking his eyes off the road, "Maybe."

Continued...