Title: The Firsts (of SuFin)

Summary: A list of Firsts in the lives of Sweden and Finland, told from the latter's perspective. Drabbles.

Chapter Title: The First Uncles

The door to the house slammed open, smashing into the wall and likely becoming embedded in it, judging by the way it just hung there. The sound jolted the whole family from where they had been contentedly listening to the radio, Tino leaning on Berwald with the latter's arm around him, with Peter sprawled over both of their laps, sucking delightedly on a lollipop.

And, of course, who should walk through the door like he owned the place like Denmark. Before either of the nations could get in a word edgewise (Tino was planning on greeting him, but knowing Berwald's hatred, he'd likely attack him), his eyes lit upon Peter, who he darted forward and scooped up. "My new nephew!" he declared, causing all three of those who lived here to goggle comically at him.

Norway and Iceland entered, as well, which dragged Tino's attention away, long enough for Denmark to make off with his 'son'. Iceland looked like he was having trouble deciding which people were sane here. Finland could sympathize.

"What's going on here?" asked Tino of them, figuring that they'd probably be the ones to actually explain it. He was trying to sound like he wasn't hopelessly confused. He was also pretty sure that he was failing.

"Denmark wanted to visit his new nephew," Norwary told them in his usual apathetic voice, planting it in one of their chairs. Behind him, Iceland make quotation marks for 'nephew'.

The two 'parents' exchanged confused glances. "How did he know about Sealand? I didn't tell anyone!"

Berwald shook his head. "Me neith'r."

Iceland spoke up, trying to sound like his brother, but failing by just a fractional margin. "England told him."

About to ask why the heck they were hanging around England of all people (unless they were setting up a trade agreement or something, in which case he sympathized), Norway answered them, seemingly expecting it. "He was attempting to prove my trolls false." There was a note of irritation to his voice.

…Oh. Alrighty, then. You know, Tino didn't have to ask anything more, he was good. And judging by how excited Denmark sounded in the background, with a squealing (in delight!) Sealand as his accompaniment, they probably wanted to give him something else to focus on. He got that, he really did.

But then something smashed in the background, and he stood up, jerking his head back to look at both of them standing there like deer in the headlights, one of his dishes, a pretty antique (though almost everything they owned was antique) blue dish that he and Berwald had bought for one of their anniversaries.

Tino snapped.

"That's it!" he yelled, ignoring the way that Berwald smirked, Iceland paled, and Norway didn't change expression. Marching around, over to them, he grabbed both of the terrified nations' ears in a classic move, heedless of the fact that one of them was so much bigger than him. Jerking on them as they both protested, he continued, uncaring of their complaints. "You can barge into my home, you can make a mess, and you can hang out together, but you can not break my things. Got it?"

Neither of them responded, instead staring at him with wide eyes as if they had never seen him before. "Got it?"

Both of them nodded frantically, Sealand pouring out apologies that ran together and mostly consisted of throwing 'Uncle Denmark' beneath the bus. Tino didn't bother to listen.

Releasing both of their ears, he put one hand on his hip, the other wagging in disapproval at them. "If you two are going to do that again, go outside! Don't swing around in here!"

Nephew and Uncle exchanged looks, before making a beeline for the door, as the Finnish nation watched, satisfied, before returning to plop down next to Berwald on the couch. "Ugh, they gave me a headache…" he muttered, ignoring both the way that his 'husband' looked concerned and how Iceland was watching him with something close to hero worship.

…And he still had to fix the door. Great. Or, well, Berwald did. Stupid Denmark.

Word Count: 684 Words

A/N: And it's another chapter~! There are only three or four chapters left in this, but as of right now, I have no idea when the next chapter will be up. Because it's really hard to write without cranking the cheese up to eleven. So it might be a bit. Anyway, I hope that the rest of the Nordics are in character, because it has been forever since I watched anything involving them, and I've never written them before. C: Thanks for all the reviews, guys~!

Next Time: In which Berwald is embarrassed, Tino does some cleaning, and Sealand thinks they're both idiots.