Title from "Can't Help Falling in Love" by Elvis Presley.

Chapter 1: The Delicious Tomato Song

For some indeterminable reason, Lovino was special. There was nothing Antonio could quite place his finger on for an explanation, no hints or tips or clues that gave it all away. There was simply a warm feeling in the pit of Antonio's stomach whenever he saw Lovino, urging him to go easy on the little guy.

Not that Lovino appreciated the sentiment, of course. He didn't care one bit how nice Antonio was to him. As far as he was concerned, living with Big Brother Antonio was almost worse than living with Big Brother Roderich, and the least the jerk bastard could do was feed him decent food. Plus, he was expected to work and clean the bastard's house, and Lovino was completely useless at that, so Antonio was a huge jerk for expecting a little kid to do stuff he wasn't able to, and he made sure to let him know at every opportunity he got.

Cleaning was an issue; Antonio had a big house, and he was a busy guy. What was the point of Lovino living there if he wouldn't work at all? Antonio spent all day working, making sure his colonies were doing what they should be and kicking other nations' butts in war. If Lovino were any other colony, he'd be punished severely for not pulling his weight. But, Antonio was weak to Lovino. Instead of punishing him, he ended up doting on him, and Lovino's bad behavior never stopped.

"Lovino! This house is anything but clean!" he scolded, gaping at the huge mess left over from the night before. He had won a great victory, and there had been a huge celebration at his house, leaving the place trashed by the time the sun rose. He had ordered Lovino to reorder everything while Antonio was out working, but yet, when he came home, it still looked like a tornado had struck.

"Cleaning is crazy hard," whined Lovino. He was laying on top of an overturned couch, a mop resting on his stomach. "Every time I try to do it, I just end up messing everything up more. Why do you keep forcing me to clean, you bastard, huh?"

"Who taught you to speak like that?" Antonio shook his head. "Lovino. You have to listen to Boss now, okay? You've got a job to do, and you're expected to do it."

Lovino sent a wave of motion through his arm and into his shoulder, as if dancing to silent music. "But I can't do it, huh? So what do you expect me to do?"

"Why are you doing that with your arm, Lovino?" Antonio walked briskly over to him, concerned as Lovino swung his neck to the side and then looked back, gritting his teeth.

"Doing what? I'm not doing anything. Get your hands away from me, you creep!"

Antonio took Lovino's tiny arm in between his hands, examining it. Another wave of motion rippled through it, up through his shoulders and neck. Antonio furrowed his brow and looked back at Lovino's face.

"Are you doing that on purpose, Lovino?"

"I'm not doing anything! Stop touching me!"

"Yes you are, Lovino, you can't hide it. Are those dance-like movements just happening on their own?'

"I don't know what you're talking about, jerk," spat Lovino, his hips swiveling. He forced them back into place, but they jutted to the side again, and his face began to turn pink.

"Lovino, are you okay? Does this happen a lot?" Antonio sat down on the upturned couch next to Lovino. The little boy turned away, scooching over so that there were a few inches between their hips.

"Maybe," he grumbled, looking away. "It just happens and I can't do anything to stop it, huh?"

Antonio nodded thoughtfully. That explained a lot about Lovino. He had a great deal of trouble falling asleep at night, and whenever he inevitably crawled into Antonio's bed and dozed off, he jerked around and kicked so much in his sleep that he eventually forced Antonio to the far side of the bed almost nightly. When Lovino complained so much about how hard cleaning was for him, Antonio just thought he was being a little shit, but perhaps it was these strange muscle spasms that caused him to be incapable of basic tasks. Antonio stood up.

"How about you take the day off, Lovino, hm? I've got to go back out. Why don't you go and play outside in the garden?"

"What are you playing at, jerk bastard?" Lovino pointed a finger at him sharply.

"What are you talking about? I've got to go run some errands. You just go play, okay? Bye bye, Lovino, I'll be back soon!" Antonio rushed out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

"Don't treat me like a child, eh!" cried Lovino from inside. Antonio laughed. Lovino was so cute. He couldn't ask for a cuter little brother.

He had a feeling he knew what ailed Lovino, but he had to make sure. A conversation he had with a farmer a few days ago was fresh in his mind; the farmer thought that perhaps Lovino suffered from what he had called "the dancing disease", and the only cure was music. Antonio had believed him, but If he wanted to help Lovino out, he needed a professional opinion. He headed straight to a doctor in town, who confirmed his suspicions; it was very likely that Lovino suffered from a mild case of chorea. It wasn't seriously threatening or dangerous, but he would require some sort of physical therapy if he ever wanted to get better. Something like dancing. Antonio headed back home, his mind wheeling.

Lovino was his favorite colony, and he doted on him more than anyone else. As much as he wanted to help him so he would be able to work effectively, he also had an overwhelming urge to protect him. The more he told himself he only needed to help Lovino so he would finally behave as a colony of Spain should, the more he became certain that he only cared about making sure Lovino was happy and safe and comfortable. He loved Lovino like the little brother he never had – why else did he make Antonio's heart rate double? – and all he wanted was for the little kid to be okay.

"You're late, you son of a bitch," Lovino said when Antonio walked in. "I'm hungry, so get to it, huh?" His leg swiveled round and round, and he tried to force it back into place, to no avail.

"Alright, alright," sighed Antonio, suddenly very tired. "Just wait a minute, okay? How do we say please in Spanish, Lovino?

"Give me-o," said Lovino.

Antonio squinted in bemusement and shook his head, ruffling Lovino's hair. "That's not right at all, Lovino. Por favor. Repeat after me. Por favor."

"Per favore," said Lovino quickly.

"No, no, no," said Antonio. "In Spanish. Listen, okay?" He spoke slowly. "Por favor."

"Por favore," said Lovino with some difficulty. He managed to fuse his language and Antonio's, but it was an improvement from nothing.

"Ah, it's close enough," sighed Antonio. He ruffled Lovino's hair again. "You're so cute, Lovino."

"Stop touching me," Lovino roared.

Antonio laughed again and tugged on Romano's stray curl. The little boy's face immediately turned bright red, and he made a noise through his grit teeth that sounded like chigi. He charged forward with a roar and drove his head straight into Antonio's stomach. Antonio doubled over, clutching his middle, all the breath leaving him.

"You dirty pervert! What the hell are you doing touching a little kid like that, eh? What's wrong with you? I bet you assault all your other colonies too, huh? You creepy jerk pervert bastard shithead!"

"Calm down, Lovino, I was just playing with you," choked Antonio.

Lovino screamed. "That's disgusting! You're disgusting!"

Antonio placed his hand to the wall for support and slowly straightened up, still clutching his stomach with one arm. "I'll just… go make dinner…" He staggered away to the kitchen, leaving a still bright red Lovino behind in the hall. He may have been used to the wrath of Lovino, but it did not make the pain any more tolerable.

That night, well after a more or less quiet dinner, a storm hit. Antonio lay in his bed with his eyes closed, not quite asleep, listening to the rain and thunder whip around his house. The building creaked and groaned in the wind, whirled about by the storm's rage. Any second now, Lovino would tiptoe into the room and ask to sleep with him. Just as the thought crossed Antonio's mind, the door to his bedroom opened. Antonio sat up in bed quickly, his eyes peeling open. Lovino stood in the doorway, a tough expression on his face and a pillow the size of his body under his arm.

"What? Lovino? Are you scared?"

"No," said Lovino.

The room was illuminated with blue as lightning flashed, and a great bout of thunder rolled over the house. Lovino jumped into the air screaming, and darted over to Antonio's bed. He dove in head first, landing on Antonio's stomach.

"It's okay, Lovino," Antonio groaned, clutching his stomach with one hand and Lovino's trembling body with the other. "It's just a thunderstorm. Nothing's going to hurt you."

"I'm not scared," stuttered Lovino, his eyes wide. His brow was covered in sweat, and he was dancing again, his arm and shoulders and neck working their way through that familiar wave pattern Antonio had learned to see.

"I learned what that's called," said Antonio, changing the subject. He sat up fully and crossed his legs, facing Lovino. "That dancing you do that you can't stop. It's called chorea."

"So what can you do to stop it, huh?" demanded Lovino, as if Antonio being able to recognize the symptoms of a disease also gave him the power to cure it. Antonio smiled.

"I don't think I can do anything, Lovino. The doctor said you'll need to do some sort of physical therapy to help it. But don't you worry! Boss has a few ideas!"

The thunder cracked again, and Lovino dived for Antonio, wrapping his tiny arms around the older boy's middle. He was trembling violently and whimpering. Antonio was seriously concerned about Lovino wetting the bed. He placed his hands on Lovino's back, pulling him close.

"Hey, it's okay, Lovino," he said. "There's nothing to be afraid of."

"Why is the thunder so loud, huh?" His eyes were so big and wide and scared. Antonio almost squealed at how cute he was. How could one little kid be this adorable? Antonio pulled Lovino even tighter unconsciously. A strong surge of protective instincts swept through his heart. If Lovino was scared of the thunderstorms, Antonio wasn't going to rest until he laughed at the thunder.

"Well, it's because of tomatoes, Lovino," Antonio said very seriously.

"What the hell are you on about, bastard?"

"The thunder," explained Antonio. "It's tomatoes. You see, up in the sky, your Roman goddess Ceres likes to harvest her tomatoes whenever it rains. You know how when we go and pick tomatoes together, we sometimes drop them out of our baskets? That's what Ceres does, too. It turns out, even Roman goddesses make mistakes!"

"Ceres isn't my goddess, she's Grandpa Rome's," grumbled Lovino. "And what the hell kind of a Catholic are you, telling me stories about old gods and goddesses?"

Antonio laughed. "Just, listen, okay? So, whenever Ceres drops a tomato, it hits the ground and makes a huge rumble, because her tomatoes are so big! Seriously, you know how big my house is? Ceres' tomatoes are even bigger! So whenever she drops them, the sound they make whenever they hit the ground is so loud, that it sounds like thunder to us. And that's why thunder is so loud."

"Because of tomatoes."

"Si. Because of tomatoes."

Lovino blinked at Antonio, his mouth slightly open. Antonio held his twitching grin, trying not to laugh before Lovino had a chance to speak. They held each other in a stalemate for a few seconds, before Lovino scoffed.

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," he said. "Besides, if you're going to tell stories about Roman gods, at least get it right. Jupiter was in charge of thunder, not Ceres picking dumb tomatoes."

"Tomatoes aren't dumb, Lovino! They're a very serious business! And the thunder is Ceres dropping tomatoes, not picking them!"

"Why do you say such stupid things, Antonio," shot Lovino, but he no longer looked as scared when the thunder sounded again, shaking the walls of the house.

"It's some storm out there," frowned Antonio. "I hope everyone is okay." A pang hit him in the chest. What an odd thing to think. He was never that compassionate about other people's well-being, not him, not the great Kingdom of España. He must have been tired, that's all. To convince himself, he stifled a fake yawn and stretched. "Okay, I think it's time for bed. Are you gonna be okay, Lovino?"

"Of course I'll be okay. It's not like I was scared or anything. But I'm staying here tonight."

Antonio lay back down in his bed, pulling up the covers around his body. "Okay, Lovino. But if you wet the bed, I'm gonna be seriously pissed."

Lovino went bright red. "I don't wet the bed! Squirrels keep climbing through my window and doing it and then framing me!"

"That is not true at all," sighed Antonio, smiling. "Go to sleep, Lovino."

Lovino lay down, grumbling to himself about squirrels and how nobody believed him. He tried to get comfortable, but every time he stopped moving, he began to twitch and fidget again, his upper body moving in that wave-like motion. Antonio watched him through half-lidded eyes, empathy washing over his heart. He was going to help Lovino. And he was going to do it first thing after breakfast the next day. He reached out and placed his hand over Lovino's arm, holding it still. The little boy didn't' even yell at him, just silently writhed and clenched his teeth until he drifted off to sleep.

Antonio smiled at the sleeping boy. He still danced around in his sleep, and his eyelids fluttered fitfully. He was angry, and rude, and incompetent, but damnit if he wasn't the cutest little thing Antonio had ever seen. Every time Antonio looked at Lovino, he couldn't help but become short of breath, and his heartbeat sped up, a warmth spreading throughout his face and through his body. Lovino filled Antonio with so much brotherly love, Antonio wasn't entirely sure what to do with himself. Lovino was just so special. So special.

The next day, Antonio took Lovino out into the garden, ignoring Lovino's complaints. He brought his guitar with him, and, when he had found a suitable location with enough open space, he bent down, balancing the instrument on his knee.

He strummed a chord. "Since you're South Italia, you ought to know about the tradition of the tarantella."

"You mean that dance people who get bitten by tarantulas do because they think it can cure them?" asked Lovino doubtfully, glaring at Antonio, his hips swiveling against his will.

"That's the one!" He strummed another chord. "I was just thinking, since your chorea makes you convulse like tarantula victims-"

"Jackass!"

"-maybe dancing a tarantella would be helpful!"

Lovino looked sheepish, tracing his foot back and forth in the dirt. "Well, that's a dumb idea. But, uh, I don't know any tarantellas."

Antonio gasped. "What? None at all? But you're South Italy! Tarantella comes from your land!"

"Yeah, well, I don't know any, so go away!" cried Lovino, clenching his fists.

"Hey, it's okay, Lovino! I'll teach you one!"

Lovino backed away. "No. Don't come near me, you bastard!"

Antonio set his guitar down gently on the ground far away from where he intended to dance with Lovino. Then, he approached the boy and took his hands.

"It's not hard at all! Here, I'll show you. Step with this foot first…" He led him through the fairly simple moves, showing him how to trot and wave his arms and throw the convulsions from his body. The dance itself was reminiscent of the movements Lovino made from his chorea, but it was much more enjoyable to watch Lovino intentionally make them. He only complained few times, and he even began to smile and laugh, finding something he was actually good at. As Antonio took him backwards in a fast-stepping pattern, he began to sing.

"Buono tomato

Buono tomato

Buono buono ooh! Tomato!

Red on the bottom

And green on the top

Toma- Toma- Tomato!

Hm!"

"What the hell are you singing, bastard," demanded Lovino, following Antonio's step pattern and arm movements.

"It's the Delicious Tomato Song!" laughed Antonio, pressing Lovino back in the direction they came. "It's perfect for this dance!"

"It's dumb!" They spun around in the dirt, kicking up a cloud of dust into the air.

"It's not dumb at all!

I'll give you another one

I'll give you a beautiful one

Eat a delicious tomato

And come dance with me!

Amore!" Antonio twirled Lovino around, moving his arms in the correct motions. Lovino tried to frown, but found himself laughing jubilantly at the silly song Antonio sang. They came to the end of the dance, Antonio demonstrating the proper way to hold the body in the finishing pose, and they both descended into a fit of laughter, collapsing in the dirt.

"This is so fun, Lovino!" cried Antonio, wrapping his arms around the little kid. The way he laughed in pure joy, too happy to pretend to be mad, the way he mimicked Antonio's dancing perfectly, it was almost too much for Antonio to handle. His chest began to hurt, and he suddenly stopped laughing, clutching at his heart.

"Eh, what is it, jerk Toni, are you okay?" asked Lovino, the laughter dying from his eyes like water rushing down a drain. At the sound of the nickname, all the breath left Antonio's body. He forced himself to gasp deeply to draw in more air quickly.

"What? Oh, si, I'm fine," replied Antonio, setting his cheerful smile back on his face. "It's just… You're so happy right now, and you're not convulsing at all, and you're just so cute, it sobered me for a second!"

Lovino turned away. "Hmph. You're gross. Why do you say such stupid things, huh?"

Antonio laughed and pulled Lovino to his chest, tickling the little kid's sides. Lovino began to laugh again, kicking at Antonio and trying to claw away. Antonio released the kid and rose to his feet, dusting off some of the thin layer of dirt that had settled on his clothes. He retrieved his guitar and set it on his knee once more, twisting the pegs slightly to retune.

"Alright, Lovino," he said. "Let's see what you've learned."

"You want me to dance it all by myself right now?"

"Yeah! Show me what you've got!" He strummed the first chord, looking at Lovino expectantly.

"Well, okay…" Lovino shifted into the beginning pose uncertainly, all his bravado fleeing without Antonio there to hold his hands and help him. Antonio began to play and sing, and Lovino began to dance, executing the motions Antonio had taught him flawlessly. His motions were fluid and precise, never moving even a centimeter out of line. This was the full dance Lovino had been trying to do, the combination of all the components of motion from Lovino's chorea merged into one lively, fluid dance. He laughed at the words to Antonio's song about delicious tomatoes and twirled, joining in at the part of the song where Antonio called, "Amore!" He rolled his shoulders and shuffled his feet and fell gracefully into the final pose, and the song and dance ended with a flare.

Antonio rested his elbows on the guitar and clapped, laughing jubilantly. "Wow, Lovino! That was really good! Buen trabajo!"

"I know it was," beamed Lovino, all traces of uncertainty gone. He stood tall and proud, completely still, no dancelike movements waving through his body. Antonio almost burst from pride.

"Let's do this again tomorrow, Lovino," said Antonio, gathering his guitar and standing up straight. "I've got to go work now."

"What? No! Don't go! I mean… yeah, that's fine. You get out of here, jerk." Lovino turned bright red and looked away, fidgeting awkwardly with his shirt.

Antonio laughed and swooped Lovino up in a hug. "Don't worry, my little tomato! I'll be back before you even knew I was gone!" Lovino squirmed out of his embrace and placed his hands on his hips.

"Whatever! I don't care at all! While you're gone, I'm gonna try to clean and see if I can do it now that my limbs don't move when I don't want them to. It shouldn't be too hard, eh?"

"Wow! That's a great idea, Lovino! I hope it works well for you! I've gotta go, though, so I'll see you later, okay? Bye, Lovino! Be good!" Antonio trotted away, waving to Lovino as he went.

His little Lovino's chorea had disappeared after the dance, if only temporarily. And he was so good at it, it was like dancing was second nature. Lovino sure was full of little surprises like that. Antonio hoped he would be able to clean, not because he wanted his house cleaned, but because he wanted Lovino to be able to succeed at anything he put his mind to. It was vastly different from how he treated his other colonies, and the thought of that formed a hard knot in Antonio's stomach, but Antonio did not mind giving Lovino the moon on a string. After all, Lovino, who danced the tarantella like no other and had the mouth of a drunken sailor, was very, very special.

Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can't help falling in love with you

Chapter Title: The Delicious Tomato Song by YUMIKO