I was thinking of merging the next two chapters because this was kinda short, but I liked the idea of Berwald and Gunner having their own silly little chapter. Still, the next one will be longer.


Gunner perched on the edge of the sofa, working on his Christmas tree. It was a tradition, ever since university, for him to craft his own tree using beer cans. And every year it got more elaborate. What started out as simple pyramids were now works of modern art worthy of a museum, even if no one cared for his artistic vision.

The sculpture came up to his chest, and Gunner cut cans into ringlets for branches and leaves. He put battery-powered tea lights in baskets made from the bottoms of cans to work as Christmas lights; used a stuffed toy swan for the angel on top; and when it was done it would take pride of place in the middle of the room, guarding their presents. Even though it would, probably, be cheaper to just buy a plastic Christmas tree, Gunner was going to drink anyway, so he might as well reused the cans.

Gunner hummed to himself, starting as a tuneless drone and morphing into Christmas Spirits by Sonata Arctica at some point.

A shadow fell across Gunner. He didn't notice.

Berwald stood over him, clutching a sheet of paper covered in scribbled, pencilled lyrics. Gunner didn't notice him for a minute or so, eyes fixed on the cans and tape around him. When he, at last, did see Berwald, he jumped.

"Fuck, dude, at least say "hi" or something."

"Hi."

"Uh, hi too." Gunner went back to his cans. He was carving more ringlets for the bottom half of the tree, still rather bare compared to the top half. He always forgot about the bottom half. Berwald didn't leave.

Gunner groaned. "Can I help you?"

"I wrote a song. Wan' feedback." He held out the piece of paper.

Gunner turned back to his tree. "Now? Can't you see I'm busy?"

A moment passed. Berwald jabbed the paper into Gunner's arm. Gunner ignored him. Berwald tried again, repeatedly, until Gunner snatched it. "Fine! God forbid an artist gets to work on his craft in peace."

"S' a tree made of beer cans."

"Art!" Gunner rolled his eyes, then began to scrutinise the lyrics. "Hmm, lotta religious imagery for a band called 'Screaming Pagans'."

"Pagan's a religion, right?"

"Eh," Gunner made a weighing motion with his hands, "it's more like an umbrella term, I guess." He looked back at the song. "Hey! What's all this about "sole tennant" of your heart!" Gunner smacked Berwald with the paper, "we're brother-cousins! I practically raised you! I kissed your bruises when you were little! I lent you my dirty magazines!"

Berwald raised an eyebrow. "Jus' what was I going to do with p'ctures of naked women?"

"I dunno, last longer?"

He glared at him. Gunner went back to the lyrics. "So, you finally realised Tino isn't this perfect little doll?"

Berwald nodded. "Was a shock. Dunno. Didn't 'xpect him to be so messy and dirty. 'Nd smells when he farts. 'Nd has cream 'n his chest hair sometimes."

"You sure it's cream?"

"Yes. He was eating mämmi. 'Nd he swears and burps. 'Nd showed me his 4chan and reddit accounts."

Gunner raised an eyebrow. "And are you okay with all these flaws?"

"Yes." They were closer for it, and Berwald understood him so much better. Berwald started trembling. He covered his mouth with his hands. "L've him so much."

"Aww, c'mere, ya big gay!" Gunner pulled him into a tight hug. "Your song is great. We'll go over it in more detail sometime, irion out some wrinkles. You know, when I'm not… what was I doing?"

"Makin' a mess."

"Ah, yes!" He sat back down and started taping can ringlets to his can tree.

Berwald cleared his throat.

"What?" Gunner drew out the word, tossing his ringlets aside.

"Gonna invite Tino t' the family cabin, th's week'nd." He played with his hands. "Just wanna make sure it doesn't clash w'any plans y'had."

"Oh, no you're all good. Might invite Adriaan round and get some more cans for my tree. I think it's a bit early to be taking him to the log cabin. I'm, like, ninety-nine percent sure he isn't a serial killer, but I don't wanna be alone in the woods with him just yet. Maybe in January?" Berwald nodded, not particularly interested in what was being said. Gunner looked at him slyly, giving a Dreamworks-esque eyebrow raise. "So, you two gonna fu-"

"I will n't be takin' questions at this time."

Gunner rolled his eyes and got back to his project. He glanced up to find Berwald still there. "What now?"

"C'n I ask you somethin'?"

"So you're allowed to ask questions but not me?"

"Mm."

"Want your big brother-cousin to buy condoms for you?"

"No. Dun call yourself that."

"I will only be referring to myself as your brother-cousin from here on out. Now, about the condoms. You know they're meant to go on your knob, right?"

Berwald glared at him. "Mm."

"They're not for balloon animals."

"Don't patronise me. M'autistic, not a child." He folded his arms, sighed, and sat down next to Gunner. "Should I tell him about the…"

"The autism? Yes. Gotta know if he's an ableist and dump that ass if he is."

"No, he's not- I already told him that. But, what about the…" He gestured towards their CD collection.

"Ah," Gunner nodded, "I see. Yes, you pussy, tell him. It's not that big a deal."

Berwald squirmed.

"Oh, come on! Adriaan knows all my dirty little secrets!"

"Like h'w you shat your jants in the middle of maths when y'were seven?"

"Yup! He only laughed for ten minutes. That's true love right there!"

Berwald chuckled. "Anyw'y, I have a question. Or…" He shrugged. "Can I 'sk you for, dunno, advice, maybe?"

"Don't use candles. I know they're great mood lighting but you're staying in a wooden building. It's not worth the risk."

"That's-"

"Don't do BDSM during your first time. Don't even incorporate some stuff. You gotta build up the trust with every thrust. Work up to spanky-time with rules and safewords and stuff."

"I know-"

"Use lots of lube and make sure you're prepared. Don't let him go in dry; wait until you can hide a traffic cone down there."

"Gunner!"

"Sorry, sorry," he held up his hands. "What advice do you want?"

"Do you think I'm ready?"

Gunner sighed, and leaned back on the sofa. "Berwald, how can I possibly answer that? Only you can know if you're ready or not."

"S'not an answer," Berwald grumbled. "But…" He thought about it. He thought about how he felt after Tino went down on him. Not only was the elation unlike anything he'd felt with his exes, but he felt closer to Tino from doing it. Having sex with Tino would probably be a similar experience. With his exes it had been a mixed bag. Sometimes it was fun, other times he felt rushed, not listened to.

But with all of them, his heart hadn't been in it.

He thought of Tino. With a smile, he picked up his phone.

Dearest Tino,

I'd like to invite you to my family's cabin for the weekend. Maybe a long weekend. It's up north. There'll be lots of snow, but that's okay, there's a fireplace and we'll have blankets and hot chocolate.

Maybe, if you like it, you can also come round for Christmas, and meet my family, but I understand if this is too much too soon, so I'll start with inviting you over for the weekend. Just us.

He stopped typing, and thought of what he was going to say next. His face turned maroon.

While we're there, if you want, maybe we could go 'all the way' in our relationship. I think I'm finally ready. I want to have sex with you, if you want that too.

Lots of love,

Berwald

He got a reply within the minute.

Yippee!

I mean, thanks for inviting me! I can't wait!

Berwald gave a teeny, tiny smile that didn't quite reflect how his heart swelled and his chest felt like it was full of balloons. He sprang up. "Gotta start plannin'."

"Why? What did he say?"

"Not t'king questions!"