Home Visit [Berwald]

[Timo Väinämöinen]

Timo covered his mouth with his hand as he yawned deeply, eyes closing for a moment. The paintbrush in his other hand dipped and for a second the tin soldier that he was working on was threatened with a red spot on his face, before he realised and quickly lifted his hand again. The day was dragging. It was partly because he was tired, he knew. He was still S50 short of having the rent, which was due next week, and he’d been taking every shift he was offered, snatching a few hours of sleep here and there. It was also (and mostly) because in 30 - 29! – minutes Berwald would be meeting him outside to take him back to his house. His tiredness did little to diminish his excitement and happiness: both were even more palpable in his presence than normal.

Finishing the toy soldier in his hand, Timo stood it next to its fellows to dry and picked up the next one. If he could just stop thinking about Berwald for a bit, maybe the last half hour would go a little faster. That was easier said than done, though. Berwald had been filling his mind for the last month and a half since he had walked (well, driven) back into Timo’s life. It was as though a missing part of him had returned, and even in private, Timo’s thoughts had been a lot less melancholy and full of fond memories or exciting plans instead. Timo couldn’t text or phone Berwald as much as he’d like to because of the cost, but he had taken to texting Berwald goodnight when he could.

Even though he’d been thinking about Berwald, distracting himself from the time at least had worked. Timo jumped when the bell rang, signalling the end of his shift, and he finished the soldier he was painting and tidied up his workstation a bit for the next person before leaving with a happy hum. Soon! He moved with the crowd of his co-workers to his locker, out of which he pulled his jacket, a change of shirt and a plastic bag, inside which was a large container with a sweet fruit soup for them to have as dessert. He hoped it would be all right. He’d wanted to make Rönttönen, but the ingredients were too expensive.

Quickly changing his shirt there in the locker room, Timo folded the one he had been wearing and put it in the locker for later. His pulled his jacket on as he trotted away, back towards the exit. He waved goodbye to some of his co-workers before slipping out. The entrance to his work was actually down a side street, so Timo had suggested to Berwald that they meet in a place where he would be able to stop the van just round the corner. Smiling brightly, heart fluttering in excitement. If possible he grinned even brighter when he saw the van and rushed over to greet his re-found friend. “Berwald!” He waved happily. “I’ve missed you! How was work today? Did you get everything done you needed to?”

[Berwald Oxenstierna]

“Boss, 'm gonna be returnin' the deliv'ry van a bit lat'r than usual this aft'rnoon,” Berwald said, sounding apologetic but not too apologetic due to his familiarity with his boss. “Huh? Ain't nothin' wrong with that, Berwald, but why?” his boss asked, looking confused. “Got a friend comin' ov'r ta m'place lat'r t'night. Need ta pick 'im up,” the tall blond explained. “Well, if that's the case, jus' borrow it overnight!” the other man replied cheerily without a moment's hesitation. “Tha's alright with ya?” the bespectacled man asked, his tone suggesting that his inquiry was more out of courtesy than genuine uncertainty. His boss owed him a lot of favors after all. A lot. Of. Favors. Letting him borrow one of the delivery vans for the night was the least he could do... for now. 'Way too many fav'rs,' Berwald thought dully. “Of course, silly boy! We both know I owe ya too many favors... The rate I'm getting ya ta do extra delivery junk for me coupled with how I hardly do anything ta pay ya back will force me ta give ya my whole house soon!” he said mock-exasperatedly. “Don't think yer house is enough ta cov'r what ya owe me, boss,” the tall blond mumbled, his tone slightly, but still noticeably, playful. His boss laughed. “Well, nobody asked about what ya think so go on and get, ya slacker! You're gonna be late for your firs' delivery!” he retorted jokingly.

---

Berwald winced a little after briefly glancing at the time. He recalled what his boss had jokingly said earlier in the morning and sighed. It had been a joke, he knew, but here he was now: late. As he neared his first stop of the day, he caught sight of a familiar old woman waving at him. He waved back before parking the delivery van carefully in front of the small grocery store. He got out of the van, turned to where the old woman was standing and dipped his head respectfully. “G'mornin' to ya, Mrs. Fost'r... Sorry fer bein' late. Van broke down on the way,” Berwald explained, looking embarrassed. Beatrice Foster smiled softly. “There's no need to apologize, young man... It's not your fault,” she said kindly. “Thank you fer understandin',” he replied gratefully. After a short pause, the tall blond wordlessly gestured to the back of the van. Beatrice's eyes twinkled a little before she spoke again. “That'd be lovely... Thank you, Berwald.”

In an attempt to get back on schedule, Berwald worked more quickly than he normally did. He was almost finished by the time Mrs. Foster decided to speak again. “You seem so excited and happy today,” she stated sweetly. The tall blond halted his steps in shock and nearly dropped what he was carrying. “Um, wha' makes ya tha'?” he questioned nervously as he resumed walking. “Your facial expressions and actions are just as they usually are... But the air around you, Berwald... Something about it is different today... It is uplifting... Is something good happening later?”

---

Berwald stared at the floor blankly as he waited for Timo to get off his shift. He was standing right in front of the parked delivery van and just sort of wanted to lean on it out of laziness. It wasn't like he had been waiting long, though. He was just tired from lifting heavy boxes all day. But when he heard a familiar voice call his name out, he suddenly didn't feel so tired anymore. The tall blond looked up from the floor to see his friend waving and approaching him with a beaming smile on his face. He silently relished the sound of Timo's voice for a short moment before replying. “H'llo, T'mo. Missed ya, too. S'really good ta see ya again. Work was okay. Started off a bit late but, ov'rall, ev'rythin' went well,” he said. Berwald meant to ask the small blond how work had gone for him as well but decided that conversing in the van instead would save time. “Let's talk more in the van. Still have ta drop by the woodw'rk shop. Hope tha's a'right with ya,” the older man said, his tone sounding faintly sheepish. He moved to unlock the delivery van so that the two of them could get in.

After they finished settling in their seats and buckling their seat belts, Berwald started the engine. “How was work t'day?”

[Timo Väinämöinen]

It was nice to see Berwald relaxing against the van like that, and Timo couldn’t help but notice that he looked very handsome like that. He was a little jealous of Berwald’s bigger and stronger form, though he didn’t think he’d ever mention it. He wondered if Berwald was tired. He knew he’d been at work today as well, and Timo was a little worried that he’d be getting in the way of him sleeping. He didn’t mind missing sleep to spend time with Berwald, but that didn’t mean that Berwald would feel the same way.

“Oh, I’m glad that you got caught up.” He said. He blushed a little and quickly nodded when Berwald suggested they got in the van, quickly hopping round to the passenger side so he could climb in a little cautiously. He hadn’t been in a car before and he was a little anxious about it, but he trusted Berwald’s ability to drive at least. He was excited to see what it was like! “I can’t wait to see what the woodshop’s like now!” He said, happily, reassuring Berwald that he did still want to go. It had been a long time since he’d seen any of Berwald’s work and he was still sure that the older man would have improved a lot. “Do you have things you’re working on there that I can see?” He asked, excitedly.

Watching Berwald, Timo realised he’d forgotten to do up his seatbelt, and quickly did so, shifting a little to get comfortable under the belt. He put the box with the dessert on his lap, and looked out through the windscreen, eager to watch the journey. “Work was good.” He said, cheerful as ever. “I got put on doing painting, which is always fun. I don’t think I met my target, though.” A momentary frown formed on his lips at that, but he quickly forced it away, smiling again. Hopefully that one slip up wouldn’t mean that his pay was peanalised.

“Do you have anything you want to do tonight?” Timo asked, happily. He was just excited to see Berwald’s family again. He was wondering if Berwald’s house had changed at all, or if he’d redecorated his room. He was still imagining the room that Berwald had when he was a boy, which perhaps was silly. A long time had passed, after all, and it wouldn’t surprise Timo if Berwald had redecorated.

[Berwald Oxenstierna]

“T'be honest, it hasn't changed much,” Berwald said, his tone fond. He sort of figured that, since the shop had changed so little, Timo would probably find returning to it to be very nostalgic. Even the tall blond himself, who went to the woodwork shop pretty much everyday, knew that returning to the old shop with Timo would put him in the mood for a lot of reminiscing about the simpler days of his youth. He simply couldn't help but think so due to all the good memories he and Timo had made there together. He felt his heart swell as he recalled some of them. The memories themselves were nothing extravagant or spectacular. They were simple but meaningful, small and unimportant to others but the whole world to him. They were things he could never bring himself to forget, things he knew he would treasure always.

“Jus' a cab'net fer now. Y'can take a look at some'f m'finished ones. They're on d'splay and still have t'be sold,” Berwald said. The furniture he built didn't sell particularly fast but, as long as people bought them in the end, it didn't really matter. Whenever the tall blond made something of extraordinary quality, however, the woodwork shop's manager was quick to mention it to a Highland retailer that regularly bought the very best of what their small shop had to offer.

Berwald frowned softly at Timo's remark about not meeting his target. It made him recall the times he'd fallen behind on building furniture for large orders that had strict deadlines. He wanted to ask if the factory was lenient with workers who didn't reach their daily quota but, despite how concerned he was for the younger blond, couldn't exactly work the nerve to. “'m... sorry ta hear 'bout yer target,” he mumbled sympathetically. “Maybe y'can make up fer it next time...?” he added, sounding a little unsure but still optimistic and hopeful.

“Nothin' in particul'r, really. M'p'rents, though... They prob'bly want ya ta talk their ears off,” Berwald said, smiling a little. Saying that his parents were excited about Timo coming over was quite the understatement. They were downright ecstatic. An entire two weeks prior, his mother had already been fussing about what to make for dinner. As for his father, he had been even more obsessive about cleaning the house than usual. Their home was always clean but, apparently, his father had decided that the event called for it to be meticulously clean. “How 'bout you? Anythin' ya wanted t'do?” Berwald asked as he slowed the van down slightly to make a careful right turn.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Timo looking out through the windscreen with a cheerful expression on his face and couldn't help but wonder... “S'this yer firs' time in a car?” he questioned curiously. Motorized vehicles were pretty rare, even in the Highlands, so it was very probable that the small blond had never actually ridden in one before.

[Timo Väinämöinen]

“Okay!” Timo agreed, happily. He couldn’t wait to see how much Berwald had improved! He wished he had enough money to buy some of Berwald’s furniture. He would, not just because it was Berwald’s and he wanted to support him, but also because he loved what Berwald made, and really would like it in his home. For a moment he had a wistful thought about sleeping in a bed that Berwald made, and a faint blush appeared on his cheeks. That made a strangely warm, fluttering feeling form in his stomach.

Berwald’s hopeful tone cheered Timo up, and he nodded. “I’ll do my best!” He said, cheerfully. “I want to be able to take plenty of time off so I can spend it with you!” As far as he was concerned he hadn’t spent anywhere near enough time with Berwald since he’d found the older man again. Timo chuckled, thinking about Berwald’s cheerful parents. It was strange that such chatty people had had Berwald as a son, but Timo knew that they loved Berwald for who he was, so never dwelt on it too much. “That’s all right! I have lots to tell them too!” It’d be nice to catch up, but Timo was aware that he was there to see Berwald, and as much as he loved his parents, Berwald was even more dear to him. “Hmm… Aside from seeing your workshop… It’ll just be good to see your home again.” He said, happily. “We can do all the things we used to when we were younger! Well… not all of them.” Timo chuckled. “We don’t need to go over schoolwork together any more.”

Nodding at the second question, Timo looked back towards Berwald. “I never had the opportunity before! It’s not that much different from the trams, just with less people. Is it difficult to drive?” He asked, curious as ever. “How long did it take you to learn?” He had no interest in learning himself, since he wouldn’t ever need one, but it was still interesting to find out more about how Berwald had learnt.

[Berwald Oxenstierna]

'He wants ta... spend more time with me?' Berwald echoed his friend's statement in his mind as a strange combination of slight bewilderment and... something else welled up in his chest. He was close to labeling the somewhat foreign emotion as happiness but, somehow, it didn't feel right. The two emotions were close, he could tell, but calling the strange one happiness wasn't... enough. Quickly realizing that it wasn't wise of him to be analyzing his feelings while driving, he decided to ponder on the matter some other time. As he brought his full attention back to what the small blond had just stated so happily and honestly, Berwald felt his cheeks grow warm. All this time, he had been thinking that he was the only one who was eager for the two of them to spend as much time together as possible. “Tha's the spirit,” the tall blond said quietly but encouragingly, a small smile curling his lips. After a brief pause, he spoke again. “I... want ta spend more time with ya, too,” he said, sounding embarrassed but genuine.

Berwald let a deep, rumbling chuckle fall past his lips. “'m pretty sure I would've failed more than half 'f m's'bjects if I didn't have ya ta help me,” he said, his tone noticeably playful. “'m fine with doin' anythin' as long as we can talk a lot. Well, I'll leave most'f the talkin' ta you. 'm not so good at it,” the tall blond said sheepishly. “But 'm good at list'nin' and I really like list'nin' ta ya,” he added. And it was true, almost painfully so. Listening to Timo speak calmed Berwald in a way nothing else could. Not even the peace of mind woodworking gave him could truly compare to the contentment he felt during the times he simply listened to the younger blond talk.

“Was diff'cult at firs' but I learned pr'tty quickly. Took me around a week ta really get the hang of it. M'boss deemed me “ready fer the road” 'bout three weeks ta a month aft'r I started learnin',” Berwald said. He thought about telling Timo the story of how he had gotten his job as a delivery man in the first place but noted that they were extremely close to their destination. He decided to save the story for later. Berwald carefully slowed the van down as they neared the woodwork shop. He parked the vehicle in front of the shop and turned the engine off. The old engine sputtered pathetically before shutting down completely. “Here we are,” the tall blond announced unnecessarily as he unbuckled his seat belt. He opened his door, got out of the van and waited for Timo to do the same before locking all of the vehicle's doors securely.

He walked over to Timo's side of the van and offered his friend a small smile. “Shall we?”

[Timo Väinämöinen]

Beaming to hear that Berwald wanted to spend time with him too, Timo wrapped his arms around himself since he couldn’t curl up, a faint blush on his cheeks. Hearing that made his stomach flutter. Of course, he loved spending time with so many people, but spending time with Berwald really was special. Berwald was special. There weren’t words to express how happy Timo was to have him back in his life, to the extent where the exhaustion and constant money worry finally was stripped away and he could enjoy himself again.

“That’s not true!” Timo said, quickly. “You just needed someone to point you in the right direction.” Even if Berwald was being playful, Timo didn’t like people putting themselves down, especially Berwald. He was more than happy to talk though. “I like hearing you talk.” He said, though, happily. He knew that it made Berwald uncomfortable, though, and he was happy to do most of the talking as long as he got to hear Berwald’s opinion too.

Timo was impressed that Berwald had learnt so quickly. Just looking at everything in front of Berwald right now was making him feel a little lost. He was pretty sure it would take him much longer to learn than that! “That’s really impressive!” He said, smiling happily. He was curious to know about how he got the job too, but his attention was distracted as he realised he knew where they where. He suddenly sat up, spotting Berwald’s shop.

When he parked the van, Timo quickly undid his seatbelt and jumped out, leaving his bags in the car. Leaning into Berwald a little as he joined him, he nodded. “Let’s go!” He led the way, as comfortable as he was in his old haunts as he was in his new. He had to wait at the door for Berwald to open it, though, and he took the chance to glance down the street. “Does the old lady who used to watch us through the window still live on the corner?” He asked, curiously. It felt a little weird to be back in this area after being away for so long. Everything was familiar, and yet at the same time different.

[Berwald Oxenstierna]

“Give yerself more cred't. Ya helped me loads.” And you were an amazing teacher, Berwald wanted to add but caught his tongue at the last second. His brow furrowed slightly, starting to feel a familiar sense of worry for the small blond bubble in his chest. Berwald knew that the younger man had wanted to be a teacher for a good portion of his life. He had known that about Timo since they were both teenagers. But now... did the younger blond still even have that dream? Back when Berwald had brought the topic up without thinking, Timo didn't say outright if he still wanted to be a teacher. Well, if he still did, the tall blond was sure he'd do nearly anything to make his friend's dream a reality. If anyone deserved their childhood dreams coming true, it was definitely Timo. Plus it just wasn't fair! Not that the tall blond knew exactly what had happened to the younger man, though... He just couldn't imagine something horrible happening to Timo to be fair. Timo was just too good of a person.

Berwald's cheeks lightly tinged pink at Timo's comment. He willed the pleasant swooping sensation in his stomach to die down immediately because he was so sure that the small blond had just lied. Who could honestly enjoy the way he spoke? His voice was course, rough, barely above a deep rumble most of the time. That, coupled with his accent, made it close to impossible for some people to understand what he was saying. And it's not like he ever said anything of real interest anyway. Yes, there really wasn't anything to like about how he talked at all. But then Berwald realized something. Timo would never, ever lie to him. The swooping sensation came back tenfold and the tall blond silently prayed that the younger man sitting next to him wouldn't notice how embarrassingly red his face had gone.

As Berwald felt around in his pockets for the key to the woodwork shop, he found himself slightly taken aback at Timo's question. He turned back to his friend with a look that was half-amused and half-sad. “'m a li'l s'prised ya r'member her. She's not doin' so well nowadays, hardly leaves home,” he mumbled, shrugging a little. He faced the woodwork shop's front door again and resumed digging around in his pockets. After a few more seconds of searching, he finally pulled a somewhat large, kind of old-fashioned key out of his right pocket and unlocked the door.

“What the-- Who's there? We're closed, can't you see?” an impatient voice called out. “S'jus' me and T'mo, Aleks,” Berwald called back. A middle-aged man popped his head out from behind a large cabinet. “Ah, is it really?” Aleks breathed out, sounding almost reverent. He rushed forward, walked right past Berwald, went up to Timo instead and seized him by the shoulders. He was grinning widely. “You! You're Timo! Oh, God, this is brilliant. I'm so happy to meet you! I'm Aleksander Holst, manager of this shop, but please call me Aleks. No need to tell me who you are, of course. Berwald's told me all about you... Ah, it's really you... It's all thanks to you, Timo! God, you should've reunited with this great lug sooner. He's been so inspired lately! The furniture he's been making these days... Truly something else, I tell you. Ah, this is wonderful, really wonderful. Anyway, I was just about to leave. Berwald, lock the shop up on your way out, will you? Good niiight! Nice finally meeting you, Timo.” And just like that, Aleksander Holst exited the shop.

“Ah... Sorry 'bout him. He likes ta talk and... doesn't care much fer list'nin' ta oth'r people talk,” Berwald mumbled awkwardly, a noticeable blush on his cheeks. He deliberately avoided mentioning how Aleks had just blabbed about him being inspired by... The older man flushed even deeper. “Um, d'ya wanna look around? 'm jus' gonna... gonna get somethin' from m'w'rkshop real quick,” he said nervously. He waited for Timo's response before making his way to his workshop.

[Timo Väinämöinen]

Timo loved the way that Berwald spoke because it was so uniquely him. It made him smile to hear his voice, and he’d missed it a lot. Everything that Berwald said was interesting and good to hear and he often made Timo think about things that he hadn’t before. Besides, it was easy enough to understand when you got used to it! He wished that Berwald would feel more comfortable with it so he’d talk with Timo more, but until he did, Timo was happy to gently encourage him.

His expression fell a little as Berwald told him that she wasn’t doing so well, but then he perked. “I’ll come by with some food for her sometime!” He said, happily. Of course he remembered her! He was sad to hear that she wasn’t doing, so well, though. Then again, she was getting old, so maybe it was inevitable. Timo would definitely try and get in contact with her if he could, though. As Berwald opened the door, Timo moved in closer so he could peek inside, and was surprised to see that the lights were on, and even more surprised to hear someone’s voice. He relaxed when Berwald called out in response, though, and headed inside so he could look around, taking in the man that appeared too.

Freezing for a moment as he was grabbed, Timo blinked, then smiled and relaxed, amused that Berwald worked with someone so friendly. A heavy blush settled on his cheeks when he mentioned that Berwald spoke about him… and that he’d been inspired recently. “A-ah, it’s nice to meet you too!” He said, quickly. “I’m glad Berwald has someone nice to work with.” He didn’t get the chance to deny that any of Berwald’s inspiration would come from him, though. Berwald was simply brilliant anyway, and any improvement was clearly just coincidence as far as Timo was concerned.

“Oh, it’s all right! He seems nice.” Timo said, cheerfully, though his cheeks were still red as well. He noticed that Berwald was blushing thoughtfully, but then passed it off, figuring he was just embarrassed about how his co-worker had behaved. It was a little adorable, really. Timo blinked when Berwald said he had to get something, but nodded and smiled at him. “It’s all right! Go ahead!” He said, happily, his attention already looking around the shop. He wanted to have a closer look at some of Berwald’s work.

As the older man went off, Timo took the chance to head over to a chair that had drawn his attention. He brushed his fingers over the beautiful carvings in interest, wondering if this was Berwald’s work or not. He’d ask him when he reappeared. He moved from item to item, unable to stop himself from reaching out to each one, feeling the work as well as seeing it. He was a tactile person. He looked up when Berwald returned, though, and smiled brightly at him, returning to his side. “Which ones did you make?” He asked, curiously. He wanted to be able to pick out which ones were Berwald’s himself one day, but he’d have to find time to spend more time here first.

[Berwald Oxenstierna]

Timo paused briefly at the older man's words. For half a second, Berwald wondered how the small blond was going to react. But, without missing a beat, Timo reacted and cheerfully said, “I'll come by with some food for her sometime!” The older blond thought to himself that he couldn't possibly fight down the smile tugging insistently at his lips. “'m sure she'd like tha',” he mumbled softly, his tone gentle. Always, he's always so kind, the tall blond thought fondly. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that Timo's positive energy would make the old woman feel a lot better despite the sickness wearing her body down day by day. She had grown quite old so it was understandable for her to be weakening like this but it still made Berwald feel very sad. However, the thought of Timo bringing food to her and cheering her up made the worry in his heart lighten considerably.

Berwald flipped the small switch next to the doorway of his workshop and, after two or three flickers, artificial light filled the familiar room. He allowed his sharp, turquoise eyes to sweep across the slightly small space. His gaze lingered on his tools hanging neatly on the walls and, when he turned to his current work in progress, a cabinet, he felt a tiny bit of pride well up inside him. His eyes finally settled on a small wooden sculpture of a reindeer sitting on his work table. He moved closer and gingerly picked it up. He held it close to his face and examined its details carefully, as if hoping to find something wrong with it so he could delay giving it to the person he made it for. The tall blond shook his head a little at the thought and, though he was still very nervous, snorted derisively. He needed to convince himself that he could do this. Now was not the time to chicken out.

He placed the wooden reindeer back on the table and resumed studying it. Including its tiny, but still rather impressive, antlers, it was barely over half a foot tall. The animal's posture was sure and confident, its head held high and proud. Anybody would have said that the wooden sculpture's details made it look like it was about to come to life but Berwald couldn't stop worrying. After all, he had been forced to base the sculpture off just a picture so he couldn't really be sure if he'd done a good job. He would have liked to observe the real thing but, unfortunately, reindeer had been extinct for a long time. Still, their ties to Christmas hadn't been cut and that was one of the first things that Timo reminded him of. Christmas.

Berwald swallowed nervously and picked the wooden sculpture up again. He really hoped Timo would like it, even just the littlest bit. When he made it to the front of the shop again, the first thing that caught his eye was Timo observing and touching one of the pieces of furniture he had built. A sudden rush of affection curled up inside his chest and he smiled softly. The older man walked over to his friend and instinctively hid the wooden reindeer behind his back. He hummed thoughtfully at the question before answering. “Anythin' with carvin's on it,” he said, pointing to two tables, a bed, a cabinet, a bookshelf and a chair. He wasn't aware that the chair he had built with Timo in mind was the very first thing the small blond had actually noticed.

“Don't always carve, though,” he added, pointing to a sturdy-looking work desk devoid of any carvings. “Um, made somethin' fer ya,” he said quietly, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice. He held out the wooden sculpture shyly. “Haven't told ya yet that I got inta carvin' sculptures like this one. I don't do it oft'n but...” his voice trailed off awkwardly. As Berwald swallowed the lump that had grown in his throat, he silently decided to let his work speak for itself.

[Timo Väinämöinen]

Smiling happily when Berwald returned to him from the other room, Timo followed his gaze, taking in each item that was his. He was so proud of how good Berwald was, of how much he’d improved. He returned to the chair, gently stroking over the carvings again, admiring them. If only he had money! He’d really like to buy this off Berwald, and not just out of a desire to help him. It was a really beautiful item, the kind of thing he’d really like to have in his flat. But then again, bearing in mind what a state his flat was… perhaps something so nice deserved to go to a nicer home. Not that Timo would ever have the money to be able to buy one anyway. A slightly wistful look came to his face. Maybe one day he’d buy a bed off Berwald.

Perking when Berwald said he had something for him, he returned to his side. “Oh, you didn’t have to!” He said, quickly, worried he’d taken up Berwald’s time. When Berwald held out the little statue, though, Timo’s smile brightened and he took the delicate thing from Berwald’s hands, turning it over in his as he examined it. “Berwald, this is beautiful.” He praised, as he ran his fingers over the carved marks, exploring the present with his fingers as well as his eyes. He almost couldn’t look away, but he forced himself to so he could smile at Berwald adoringly. “Really. I’ll treasure it. Thank you.” Clutching the figure in against his chest with one hand he briefly touched Berwald’s with the other in a gesture of thanks, then paused, took a breath and stepped forward to pull the taller man into a proper, if slightly awkward, one armed hug.

It didn’t last very long though, Timo quickly pulling away and looking away too to hide his red cheeks. “Can I see your office too?” He asked, quickly, to divert attention away from his embarrassment. Not waiting for an answer, he bounded forward, still clinging to his present in one hand. He wanted to see if it had changed at all! He did at least glance back at Berwald before peeking in. Smiling happily, he noticed how neatly all of Berwald’s tools had been put away, and looked for any half finished works, wanting to see what it looked like while he was working on things. Eventually, though, he pulled away without going into the room properly, and shut the door behind him.

“I was right. You have improved a lot.” He told Berwald with a smile as he padded back over to him. “Not that you weren’t good before! But now you’re even better.” Absent mindedly, he stroked the reindeer carving in his hands, seeming even happier than usual. He hadn’t expected a gift! “Thank you for showing me. And thank you for the reindeer! We can go back now, though. Before we’re late for dinner.” He chuckled happily, leading the way back over to the door and then looking back to make sure Berwald was coming too.

[Berwald Oxenstierna]

As Timo took the wooden reindeer into his hands, his smile brightened and Berwald exhaled a soft, relieved sigh. It was only at that very moment that the older blond realized he had actually been holding his breath. The small blond promptly began examining his present and Berwald watched intently. The way Timo handled the statue with such care made the tall blond regard him with fond eyes. The way he uttered those few words of praise made his small smile widen ever so slightly. But it was the way he smiled at him after tearing his gaze away from the sculpture that made his cheeks redden, made his breath catch, made his heart beat faster. Berwald was sure nothing could make him any happier until Timo spoke up again, “Really. I'll treasure it. Thank you.” The tall blond couldn't respond, the emotions coursing through him were rendering his vocal chords even more useless than they usually were.

Berwald watched Timo's movements closely, completely taken with how the other blond was clutching the reindeer to his chest. The younger man touched his hand in a gesture of thanks and the tall blond was unsurprised to find the brief contact pleasant. What did surprise him, however, was the sudden one-armed hug Timo pulled him into. Their third hug, Berwald thought vaguely as he reciprocated, choosing to wrap both his arms around his friend's small frame. He randomly noticed how much taller he was than Timo. If he leaned his head just a little lower, he could bury his face in the other man's hair. Then Berwald realized that even without lowering his head, he could smell Timo's hair. He smelled nice.

Berwald let his arms fall back to his sides when he felt the younger man pulling away. He inhaled deeply but quietly in an attempt to steady his heartbeat. He could barely register what Timo was asking so he was glad the younger blond acted without waiting for his response. He was also glad he could have a few moments to himself to calm down. Timo looked back at him once and Berwald managed a shallow nod, wordlessly urging his friend to continue. As the older blond struggled to fight the blush off his cheeks, he watched his friend peek into his workshop without really entering.

By the time Timo was making his way back, Berwald was almost proud to note that his heart rate had gone back to normal – even his blush had mostly faded. But as soon as more of the younger man's praise reached his ears, his blush came back full force. “Th-thank you... Tha' means a lot ta me,” he mumbled truthfully. “An' yer welcome. 'm... glad ya like the reindeer.” He nodded in agreement and followed Timo back to the door. He waited for the small blond to exit before turning all the lights off and locking the door securely. He jiggled the door's handle a few times, making sure it was locked properly. When Berwald was convinced the shop was safe, he made his way back to the delivery van. He unlocked the passenger's side first for Timo before moving to the driver's side. As soon as the two blonds had their seat belts buckled, Berwald attempted to bring the vehicle back to life. The old engine revved weakly but, soon enough, the van was pulling back onto the road.

“Hope yer hungry. 'm pretty sure Moth'r's got a feast waitin' fer us at home,” Berwald said, sounding amused.

[Timo Väinämöinen]

Perhaps someone else might have taken offence to Berwald’s silence, but Timo knew him well enough not to be concerned by it. Berwald was had difficulties with his words at the best of time, and even less so when he was flustered. It was the opposite of Timo, really, who tended to talk even more when he was embarrassed or in a difficult situation, until he said something even more embarrassing. Timo blushed himself as Berwald wrapped both arms around him, finding his head in the taller man’s shoulder. This was… it was nice. Part of him was still a little scared, but Berwald would never hurt him. Timo knew that if nothing else. He relaxed into him, and as he took a breath he realised that the man still smelt of sawdust and pine. It was pleasant and familiar, and almost made Timo not want to pull away.

When he returned to Berwald’s side he was relieved to see that the other man had settled somewhat, and Timo’s blush had faded too. It didn’t last long for either of them, though. As Berwald blushed again, Timo felt himself blushing too, flustered that he’d made that reaction in Berwald. “Of course I do! It’s like Christmas!” He said, cheerfully. “Every time I see it that’s what I’ll think of.” He didn’t know if that was on purpose or not, but knowing Berwald it was. It was the kind of little thoughtful thing that Berwald would think of, and it was one of the reasons why Timo loved his friend so much. As they headed back to the car he held the carving in just a little closer. He wasn’t joking when he said he’d treasure it.

Hoping into the passenger’s seat, once he was strapped in he reached down to his bag. He wrapped it up in his jumper, making sure it’d be protected from any bumps or knocks. If it got broken he’d be upset! At least the wood wouldn’t break too easily, but he was still concerned. “I’m starving! I haven’t eaten since this morning!” He said, cheerfully. He’d grabbed some left overs from the café before he left, but knowing that Berwald’s parents were like, and with his financial state he’d decided not to pack himself lunch. He’d feel a little bit guilty about eating lots of Berwald’s parent’s food, but he had splashed out on the fruit soup. He had a tendency to over do portion sizes anyway. “Are you hungry too? If you’ve been working hard all day you must be!” He said, cheerfully, watching Berwald as he drove.

[Berwald Oxenstierna]

Berwald let a tiny smile curl his lips. The younger blond's great love for Christmas was the main reason why he chose to carve a reindeer in the first place. Christmas reminded him of Timo and he had hoped that the reindeer would remind Timo of Christmas. If the sculpture could give Timo a happy thought when he looked at it... Berwald's small smile widened slightly at the very idea. He eyed the carving which Timo clutched so protectively and felt his heart swell with pride. He knew he loved building furniture but carving something for the younger man gave him an altogether different sense of accomplishment. As he shifted his gaze from the wooden reindeer to Timo's face, he wondered if maybe – just maybe – Timo might sometimes think of him, too, when he looked at it. Berwald felt such a powerful rush of happiness at the idea that he shocked himself.

Berwald's fingers tightened unconsciously on the steering wheel. “S-since this mornin'?” he breathed softly, sounding incredulous, worried and confused all at once. He almost didn't notice the question Timo uttered next. However, he didn't address the question immediately all the same. “Sk'ppin' meals... can't be healthy,” he said, doing his best to stay focused on the task of driving despite his concern for Timo insistently worming its way to the front of his mind. “Are ya feelin' okay? D'ya wanna, um, sleep or somethin' 'til we get there? We're not tha' far but... ya mus' be tired so... maybe jus' a l'ttle,” he suggested lamely, not really thinking his words through. Quickly realizing that he must have sounded extremely ridiculous, a bright blush colored his cheeks. “Uh... 'm s'rry... Jus' worried 'bout ya...” the tall blond explained quietly. He paused awkwardly, unsure of what else to say before finally deciding to answer Timo's question. “Yeah, guess so... Didn't notice 'til now but 'm pr'tty hungry.”

“Not sure wha' Moth'r's makin' fer dinn'r. She wanted it ta be a s'prise. I know she's goin' ta make ärtsoppa, though,” Berwald said, trying to ignore the empty feeling he always got when he was particularly worried about the younger blond. The thought of getting to eat ärtsoppa with Timo and his parents later was comforting, though. His mother always made sure to make some whenever Timo came over for dinner. For a few moments, he fondly recalled the last time Timo had come over to his house. They'd had ärtsoppa, pannkakor and gravad lax for dinner that night. His parents had stayed in the kitchen afterwards to drink warmed punsch while he and Timo had moved into the living room. It had been a very fun night. He silently hoped that tonight would be one to remember as well. He quickly shook himself out of his half-reverie in order to pay full attention to the road. It wasn't like there were any other vehicles on the road to mind but he wanted to be even more careful than usual since he had Timo as his passenger. Berwald suddenly realized where they were and noted to himself that they couldn't be more than a few minutes away from his house.

[Timo Väinämöinen]

Timo suddenly realised that he shouldn’t have admitted to that. He didn’t want to make Berwald worry! But he was so used to doing it that it didn’t seem like a big thing to him any more. “It’s fine, really!” He quickly said, instinctively putting his hands up, trying to reassure Berwald. “I’m fine. It’s just because I didn’t have much time for a break at the factory. I had two breakfasts anyway, one at home and one when I left the café!” He smiled at Berwald, cheeks just a little flushed. He hoped the older man would soon forget about it. Berwald had other, more important things to be worrying about in his life, and Timo didn’t want to distract him from them. “If I slept I wouldn’t get to talk to you!” He added, fondly. “And then there wouldn’t be much point in me coming to visit you.” Berwald was being pretty talkative today and Timo wouldn’t miss that for the world.

“Ärtsoppa!” Timo perked suddenly, beaming. “I haven’t had that since the last time I came to visit you!” That had been a good night, even if a little bittersweet since it was in the last week before Timo had had to go. He wondered if Berwald remembered it. He remembered how they’d played games and talked about what they were going to do when they next saw each other. Of course… that meeting had never come because whenever Timo hadn’t been allowed out to see Berwald and then had lost contact with him, but for that night Timo had been positive about the move, hoping that it would help his father to move on. “Do you remember that night?” Timo asked, glancing at Berwald again. “I’m sorry you never got to visit my new house like I promised.”

As he looked back out the windscreen Timo realised he recognised where they were. They were getting close! He knew this area well, even if it had been years since he’d last been here. Eagerly, he sat forward to look around, trying to pick out roads and houses he knew. “Everything looks the same as it did before!” He said, happily. Well, there were some changes, but not as much as Timo had expected. It was like going back in time!

[Berwald Oxenstierna]

Both of Berwald's eyebrows raised slightly. “S'fine...?” he murmured slowly, still feeling a little doubtful. Timo had just said he'd had two breakfasts earlier but... he still didn't like the idea of the younger blond skipping a whole meal. Berwald was already well aware of how the small blond didn't get enough sleep. Not getting enough sleep, not eating enough food... Berwald silently and fervently hoped that it wasn't often that the younger man skipped meals. A huge part of him just wanted to speak up and ask Timo about it but... he didn't want to seem like he was prying. If Timo said it was fine, it was fine. He opened his mouth to assure his friend that he understood but, in the end, he settled for just grunting affirmatively, not quite trusting his voice. Berwald swallowed the lump that had grown in his throat and did his best to ignore the hallow feeling in the pit of his stomach. He flushed lightly at Timo's next words. Just the thought of his friend actually enjoying a conversation with him, albeit a mostly one-sided one, made him feel a strange but pleasant mixture of embarrassment and happiness.

Out of impulse, he briefly glanced at Timo out of the corner of his eye, a little surprised that it had been that long since the last time the other blond had eaten ärtsoppa. Still, he was pleased to find a bright smile on the younger blond's face. He was suddenly extremely grateful for how his mother loved to dote and spoil. She'd definitely make sure Timo would eat until he couldn't even think of swallowing another bite. He blinked a little when Timo mentioned the last time he had come over. “Hn. I r'memb'r. Was jus'... thinkin' 'bout it, too,” he admitted shyly. “Had fun,” he added after a brief pause. Berwald recalled how the two of them had talked about what they would do after Timo moved. He remembered being pretty upset about his friend – his only friend, really – having to move so far away. He had tried to keep a positive outlook on things and, honestly, it hadn't been very hard to be optimistic at the time. Timo's own optimism had been very contagious. The things they had planned that night never happened, though, of course. The two of them had lost touch with each other when Timo suddenly stopped replying to his text messages some time after he moved. Berwald had never blamed Timo for that, however, because he had been so sure it wasn't his fault. Still, having to accept that he couldn't speak to his best friend anymore had been difficult and painful.

“Don't apol'gize. S'not yer fault. 'm jus' glad we got ta meet again aft'r so long,” Berwald mumbled sincerely. As Timo leaned forward to look around the area eagerly, the older blond felt his lips twitch upwards minutely, catching his friend's energetic movements in his peripheral vision. “Hn, hasn't changed much 'round here,” he said fondly. No more than 5 minutes later, Berwald was carefully parking the van in front of his home. He shut the engine off quickly, got out of the van and locked it securely after Timo exited the vehicle as well. “Ya ready?” he asked, turning to Timo with a tiny smile curling his lips.

[Timo Väinämöinen]

“It was lots of fun!” Timo quickly agreed, smiling happily as he remembered. He was pleased Berwald had remembered as well. A lot of times over the years he’d thought back to the time they’d spent together and wondered if Berwald remembered any of it or if he’d moved on, especially as Timo had apparently been the one to break contact. Timo wouldn’t have been surprised if Berwald had held that against him, and he thought he was so lucky that he hadn’t. “What else did we say we’d do together?” He asked, as he thought back to it. “I know I said I’d come and help you study – I’m sorry I never got to, by the way.” Timo suddenly felt a splurge of guilt, but then again Berwald had passed school on his own, so he’d done better than Timo had anyway. “I was going to try and convince papa to get me a puppy too.” He suddenly remembered, perking. Well, that had never happened. But he still wanted one. He chuckled, looking at his friend and leaning into him a little. “So that I could walk him across the city and have an excuse to come and see you a lot.” It had been a joking plan, but they’d elaborated on it a lot; about where they’d walk together and what they’d see, even what the weather would be. That had been fun.

It really hadn’t changed, and Timo found a lump in his throat as they passed his old street, turning to watch it as they passed. If only… if only things hadn’t gone the way they had. If only they hadn’t gone out on that day. Timo would still have his mother and his grandfather, and his father would be happier. He could have brought Berwald home as often as he liked and stayed in the family home until he was ready to move out, and still lived somewhere close.

But there was no point crying over spilt milk. His mother had died so he could live, as worthless as he considered himself for that sacrifice, and so he had to try and live his life as best he could. Timo cheered up instantly as he recognised Berwald’s street, picking out his house as though it had only been yesterday that they’d walked home from school talking about what Timo’s new house might be like and what colour he’d paint his room. Excitedly he squirmed, unable to sit still now, and as soon as Berwald switched off the engine he unbuckled his seatbelt and grabbed his bag, jumping out of the van eagerly and rushing round to Berwald’s side. “Definitely!” He said, happily.

[Berwald Oxenstierna]

“S'not yer fault. Was hard without yer help but I managed somehow,” Berwald said, briefly recalling all the leisure time he had given up in favor of studying. Trying to understand all of his lessons on his own had been difficult – partly because he had never really been any good at studying but mostly because he had always felt the most lonely during his solitary study sessions. However, despite his loneliness, Berwald had never attempted to befriend any of his other classmates. A part of him had wanted to try but, in the end, he never acted on it. He had been aware that the only reason why he wanted some form of companionship was because Timo had left a void in him the day he moved away. Part of him had wanted to fill the void up by finding a new friend but an even larger part of him knew that no one in the whole world could ever replace Timo. “Hn, I r'memb'r tha'. Ya nev'r got one, did ya? D'ya still want one now?” Berwald asked curiously. He had never really thought of having a pet of his own but he couldn't deny that the idea of walking a puppy with Timo sounded like a lot of fun. Plus the mental image of Timo cuddling a small puppy was practically too cute to bear. Berwald could already feel butterflies frantically fluttering around in his stomach. With the tiniest of jolts, he suddenly remembered that he had thought the exact same thing and reacted in the exact same way back when he was a teenager. He wryly thought to himself that, when it came to things concerning Timo at least, he really hadn't changed much.

Berwald nodded, pleased with Timo's energetic response. “Um, ya should prob'bly... brace yerself. They're really, really excited,” he said sheepishly as he moved towards the front door to unlock it. He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket, chose a very battered silver one and inserted it into the keyhole. Before the tall blond could even turn the key, the door flew open. “Yer here!” his father's voice boomed happily. “Oh, is that really you, Timo? Goodness, you've grown so much!” his mother cried, all but leaping forward to envelop Timo in a hug. Emil Oxenstierna laughed loudly and clapped the small blond very hard on his back. Berwald winced a little. “Good ta see ya, m'boy! S'been too long, too long,” the old man said, a huge grin on his face. Atalie Oxenstierna released her hold on Timo to regard him properly. She took the young man's hands in her own aged ones and smiled brightly. “Still cute as a button,” she remarked happily. “Well, tha's enough standin' 'round out here! Come in, come in!” Emil said, chuckling merrily. “Too right!” Atalie chirped promptly. As soon as all four of them were inside, Berwald's mother moved closer to him. “Hello, sweetheart. Was work okay?” she asked softly. The tall blond's usually harsh gaze softened and he nodded. “Good,” she said cheerfully and stood on tiptoes to peck her son's cheek.

“Dinn'r's jus' about ready! Me and Atalie are jus' addin' the finishin' touches. Ber, why don't you and Timo wait in the livin' room 'til we're done?” Emil suggested. “Oh, lovely idea, dear!” Atalie said happily before her son could reply for himself. Berwald just chuckled softly. “Yeah, we'll do tha',” he agreed. His mother grinned at him before linking arms with her husband and moving him and herself in the direction of the kitchen. “Ya okay?” Berwald asked, turning to his friend. “'m sure ya r'memb'r but livin' room's this way,” he said, pointing to his right. “Moth'r and Fath'r should be done in less than f'fteen minutes. Ya can jus' take a quick look 'round the place. Hasn't changed much but s'not exactly the same eith'r. Had it r'painted at some point and there's a bookcase there now.”

[Timo Väinämöinen]

“I didn’t get to ask my dad in the end and I couldn’t bring one home now.” Timo said, a little sadly. He’d still love one, but his flat was so tiny and he had so little time he’d feel bad to get one. Besides… he couldn’t always afford to feed himself, getting a dog was really just a bad idea. “When I get one, I’m going to get a little white one!” He said, happily. He could see just the kind of dog he’d wanted, as though he’d had her before. A little white dog, thick with fluffy fur, floppy ears and a short, energetic tail. He’d get him a brightly coloured collar and a lead to match and take him for walks in the park! And he’d call him… something beginning with H. He hadn’t quite decided yet. It was like there was a name on the tip of his tongue that he couldn’t quite claim. “You’ll come and walk him with me, right?” He asked, happily.

Timo nodded eagerly, knowing exactly how excited Berwald’s parents could get. He grinned when the door opened. Berwald’s parents hardly had seemed to change at all! Well, they looked a little older, but aside from that, they still looked just like he remembered them. He happily wrapped his arms around Atalie, squeezing her in in return, and then beaming over her shoulder at Emil. This felt… well, it felt like coming home. “I haven’t grown that much!” He said, cheerfully. “It’s great to see you both too!” He allowed himself to be herded inside, smiling to hear Atalie check up on Berwald, and took the moment to address Emil. “I made fruit soup for us for dessert! I’m sorry I couldn’t bring something else too, but there’s plenty there for all of us.” He passed the container over with a cheery smile, hoping that it was all right.

Berwald’s parents left in the same whirlwind of energy that they’d arrived, and Timo found himself catching his breath. He smiled at Berwald fondly. “I remember!” Now that he had the chance he was already looking around for any changes in the place, and he eagerly led the way, putting his bag out of the way for now. “Oh, I want to go and see your bedroom before we eat!” Timo quickly decided, after looking around. He smiled at Berwald, then started to head in that direction, though obviously he wouldn’t look in it without Berwald’s permission.

[Berwald Oxenstierna]

Berwald nodded his head in understanding. Timo was already working so hard to take care of just himself; if he had a pet to take care of, he'd have to work even harder. For what was probably the umpteenth time, the tall blond wondered why his friend had to struggle so much to make ends meet. Suddenly, a new but dreadful thought came to him. Timo couldn't possibly be underpaid or anything like that, could he? Berwald felt the beginnings of indignant anger at people who even considered doing something so unfair. Unwilling to completely upset himself with his own thoughts, he let out an inaudible huff of breath to calm down. “A white one? Cute,” he commented. Though Timo had just provided very minimal information on his would-be pet's appearance, Berwald was immediately able to picture the younger blond holding a small white dog with fluffy fur, a tiny black nose, floppy ears and a short tail. The clarity of the image and the lack of any deliberate thought surprised him. Quickly shrugging it off, he replied to Timo's question in a fond tone, “'f course I will. As oft'n as poss'ble.”

“Aw, ya didn't have ta! Still so thoughtf'l, aren't ya? Well, thank ya, Timo! M'sure this'll taste great!” Emil said, happily taking the container of fruit soup. “Such a sweet boy... Thank you, Timo!” Atalie said, smiling widely. “Was wond'rin' what tha' contain'r was for... Thank you, T'mo,” Berwald mumbled gratefully. He found it strangely amusing that the three of them had essentially just bombarded the small blond with words of thanks. He briefly thought back to when he was a very young child. Manners and politeness had been two of some of the very first things his parents had taught him. Even as a kid, he had been pretty... well, scary. He remembered trying to make up for it by being polite and nice. A lot of kids his age couldn't look past appearances, though, so he didn't have many friends. It hadn't bothered him then and it still didn't bother him now. After all, everyone that truly mattered to him was in this room with him right now. His parents... and Timo.

Berwald grunted affirmatively, following closely behind Timo with a small smile on his face. “Hasn't changed much, I think. You'll see,” he said. With the younger blond excitedly leading the way, they quickly reached Berwald's room. The walls had been repainted from a light blue to an off-white. The room had retained its old wood flooring but two long tables had taken up what used to be empty space in one of the corners. Scattered on both tables were various carving tools. The bed had been replaced at one point with one that Berwald had built himself. Its headboard was covered in detailed carvings that looked like curled, wispy clouds. The bed covers themselves were modest, just plain white. The room was simply furnished. It contained a bedroom's basic necessities: a bed, a bedside table, a closet, a small study desk and a shelf cabinet. The two long tables in the corner were the only things out of place. “The two tables ov'r there... I use 'em fer when I feel like carvin' here at home. I started makin' yer reindeer here b'fore I decided ta finish it off at the woodw'rk shop. Bed's sort'f new, made it m'self,” he said and paused briefly, as if thinking of something else to say. “Um... That's it, I think. S'not much but I like it,” Berwald said fondly.