Author's note: Tumblr prompt was purple.


Purple

Fingers stroke Timo's sleeping face, the Finn shifting a bit at the touch, hiding under warm blankets. It's cold out still, but the sun has risen a little by this point in the morning.

Berwald loves watching his lover sleep. He looks so peaceful, content with the world. It reminds him of when they were children, the Swede fourteen, the Finn eight. Timo is still so small, and sometimes he forgets himself and coddles his lover. Feels he has to protect him because he remembers teaching Timo how to use a sword, but forgets that the Finn is skilled with a gun. Remembers showing him how to start a fire, but forgets that he is an independent country and had lived without the Swede for a century.

None of it matters though when Timo shifts again, and Berwald once more brushes that soft cheek, pushing away light hair. At that the Finn blinks, slowly. Two slits open just enough to take in Berwald, leaning on his elbow and watching him. Then Timo sighs, snuggling closer under the sheets, kissing one of Berwald's pecs.

"Good morning," the Swede sighs happily, wrapping his free arm around Timo's back.

He gets a garbled response that he's learned is the Finnish equivalent to, "Back at ya;" Timo has never been a morning person.

Several minutes pass before his lover shifts, placing his chin on Berwald's chest and looking up at him with large purple eyes. They're beautiful eyes, too dark to be blue but too colorful to be gray. They're all Timo and, breathing out with an air of contentment, Berwald knows they're why purple is his favorite color as he kisses Timo's nose. The intimate act makes the Finn blush, burying his face in the larger chest, but the larger nation can still see the color before his eyes.

"Breakfast?" he asks in a low voice. Another garble before the lips pressed into his muscles form a smile. "Take that as a yes."