Reconciliation once more
[ooc: Hopefully it's ok I just started it since I didn't hear from you...:'3]
WHO: Berwald and Peter
WHEN: Sunday, October 31st
WHERE: At home
WHAT: Berwald is trying to apologise for locking Peter in his room.
( Right...? )
WHO: Berwald and Peter
WHEN: Sunday, October 31st
WHERE: At home
WHAT: Berwald is trying to apologise for locking Peter in his room.
( Right...? )
He stood up quickly and marched to the door, but after he'd opened he just stared at Peter, looking him over from head to toe to see if he looked allright, if there was any difference.
Better than when Berwald had seen him, when he'd been pale and scared and had dark circles under his eyes, all because Berwald had shut him in his room without proper care...even now he winced at the memory, and only then realized he'd just been standing there blocking the doorway and staring, probably with one of those expressions Tino had once described as kinda intimidating. Realizing this, Berwald took a quick step back, away from Peter, appalled at how he was already failing at...at whatever he was supposed to do. Be nice. Not intimindating.
"Sorry," Berwald said, misery making his voice stiff and awkward. Then, after a too long pause. "Step 'n,"
As they approached the coffee table in the living room, Berwald realized the coffee must have gone cold already.
He looked from Peter to the table, this small problem becoming insurmountable in already stressed mind. A muscle twitched in Berwald's cheek, and he snatched the pot off the table, mumbling something about making more before walking towards the kitchen.
There he poured out the coffee in the pot, and set out to make more, movements too fast. Not exactly clumsy, because Berwald didn't become clumsy when he was nervous, just clipped. He filled the coffee maker, realizing too late he'd forgot to count the spoonfulls and cursing under his breath before starting again.
Finally, after a seemingly far too long time, the new coffee was dripping, and it was then Berwald realized he could have just heated up the original pot again...
He leaned his hands on the counter, allowing his head to hang down, and almost felt like crying. It was all going wrong again, just like he'd feared. He just couldn't do this right...
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The house was meticulously clean, evident that Berwald had taken extra care to make sure the house was presentable. Peter almost felt like he was in a different place than the one he had called home for months. He took his seat and wiggled his feet nervously, like the first time he had met Berwald in person.
He kept quiet while Berwald retreated to the kitchen to refresh the coffee. Berwald looked so exhausted; Peter's heart was aching just from looking at him. He wanted to say something, but couldn't. So he sat quietly and wondered where Tino and Flower-Egg were.
"Don't worry about the coffee," he said, wondering if the whole thing was a trap. Shyly, he looked between Berwald and the mug. "I promise Raivis not to drink any coffee after two. He says it keeps me up at night."
He cleared his throat and straightened up.
"There's... something we should talk about, aye?"
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He looked up when Peter spoke, nodding numbly.
"...oh," Berwald said, feeling like he'd once again done something wrong. "That's...good."
Berwald rubbed a hand over his face tiredly. Raivis was a good man. To think Berwald had even kept him away from Peter. He really hadn't been thinking straight.
"Yeah, that there is," Berwald agreed somberly.
He made himself look Peter in the eye, hoping he could communicate some of his regret.
"Peter...'m sorry. Had no right t' lock ya up."
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Papa looked... so sad. It was terribly breaking Peter's heart. He almost wanted to leap out of his seat and threw himself in Berwald's arms and let the Swede know that everything was okay. He was not mad and he understood why Papa did what he did.
But he was supposed to be a man now, and men talked things out instead of turning to hugs and kisses.
"It's all right," Peter said, keeping his tone as mature as possible. "I was wondering why you did it... Rather extreme, don't you think? I could have died... Maybe! But... it's all right, Berwald. I don't blame you, you know."
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Oh.
Things really wouldn't ever turn back the way they'd been, would they? Well, that was probably for the best. It probably hadn't been good for either of them, to be acting like...like they were father and son, and like Peter wasn't an adult who could take care of himself. Mostly. Anyway, the sooner Berwald got over that stupidity the better.
And Peter was expecting him to say something.
"M'be ya should," Berwald answered flatly, his eyes yet again fallen towards the floor. "Like ya said 't wasn't safe. 'r right, 'nyway." He looked up, and fixed Peter with a dark look.
"'m surprised ya dared t' come back."
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Peter raised his prominent eyebrow at Berwald. Surely, that wasn't what Papa was saying. How could the Swede ask him to blame him when he was the one who helped him through so much?
"Papa," he said with a stern voice, trying to sound as adult as possible. "Stop doing that. Stop being... sorry for yourself and admit that you've done something wrong and realize that it's time to move on! You know...? I think.... I'm not sure if that's what I was trying to say..."
He shifted nervously on the couch, hating that they were having such a serious conversation. He longed for the days when he could sit on the sofa and watched television with Papa without feeling like something bad was going to happen.
"We're going to be all right, aren't we, Papa?"
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Berwald closed his eyes, aware he was once again perilously close to a complete breakdown. He'd thought he was over the worst already, but talking to Peter had brought it back once again. He took deep breaths, trying to calm down. He had to be strong, couldn't...just had to be stronger than this.
After an interminable time, Berwald managed to inwardly brace himself, so he was able to open his eyes and meet Peter's gaze again.
"Are w'?" Berwald echoed bleakly. "'m just...afraid," momentarily the words stuck into his throat, before he managed to continue, in a quiet, halting voice. "It's just, I'm not us'd t'...f'r years I--"
Berwald shook his head, disgusted with his inability to explain.
"Us'd t' scare people...hurt them, even. An' once I realized how...swore never t' do 't again but now..."
He shook his head. He'd fallen back on his old habits. And this time he'd hurt someone he cared about, not just some nameless stranger. It hurt. It hurt so much he wasn't sure if he had the strenght to allow himself to spend time with Peter, risk something like that happening again. And maybe...maybe it was risky to let anyone that close, a treacherous, dark voice whispered at the back of his mind. How easily could he let Tino go, even now, if he wanted to move away...?
"Sometimes I don't really trust m'self..." Berwald mumbled, thinking aloud.
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"Papa," Peter said in an equally quiet voice, though his tone was heavy with fear. He tripped over his words, stuttering as he said, "You... didn't hurt me, you know! It was just... a misunderstanding! It's over now, you know, so Peter is okay, and Papa is okay, so we are okay... aye?"
Peter leaned over and tried to place a reassuring hand on Papa's knee.
"Papa, you are the tent pole of this family, you know. Without you, where would Tino and I be? So... cheer up! Hahah~ It'll be all okay! I promise, and you know I never break promises!"
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He couldn't speak, his throat suddenly constricted, and for once allowing his impulses to guide him, Berwald threw his arms around Peter and held on hard, his face pressed against Peter's neck. He was distantly aware his eyes were getting wet, but not enough to feel embarrassed over it.
All that mattered right at that moment was holding Peter close, and the tentatively sprouting hope that things might be ok after all. Maybe.
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It wasn't until he was still alive - though breathing was a bit hard - that he realized it was a hug. And what a nice hug it was. He put his arms around Papa, and squeezed back.
"There, there, Papa, it's all right~" he cooed as he stroke Berwald on the back.
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He coughed and tried to rub out the moisture gathered in his eyes furtively, before giving Peter an almost shy look.
"'k," Berwald said quietly, followed by a long silence. "So...ya're feeling better?" he asked tentavily.
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"You all right?" he asked, leaning in to take notes of the moisture in Berwald's eyes. Was it an allergic reaction? Raivis always said he had allergies when he cried...
"I'm feeling quite all right~! No need to worry about me. Just a wee bit overwhelmed with school, is all... Ugh, my American history course..." Peter whined, clapping his hands over his head. "It's so dull, Papa..."
And just like before, Peter went on blabbering how his professor was an eejit, and how British history was far more fascinating. Just like old times.
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As Peter's stories about his studies winded to a close, there threatened to be another awkward silence before Berwald managed to ask:
"An' Raivis? He allright too?"
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"Raivis is good~" Peter answered before silence had a chance to sink in. He scratched his cheek with a coy smile, color flushing to his skin. "It's almost his birthday, so I've got a surprise for him~ But you can't tell him though, all right?"
He kicked his legs, grinned charmingly to himself, as he explained with great enthusiasm just what he had planned for his husband. He watched Berwald's reaction; the subtle surprise and amusement on the Swede's face was welcoming.
It was not perfect; no, far from it, but it was as perfect as these two grown men could get.
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