DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything but the storyline! All characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.
Just a fluffy piece with ChibiRomano and Spain. I love these two more as siblings when Roma was younger, so I thought it about time I wrote something about ChibiRomano. Also, I got this idea listening to Spain and ChibiRomano's Mawaru Chikyuu Rondo (which, side note, is the cutest character song by far).
ChibiRomano also may be a little out of character, because I love the idea of some days Romano just being a sweet little shit that just wants to spend time with Spain (as said in their Mawaru Chikyuu Rondo, Romano was more than happy to let Spain play with him because he always worked so hard).
I realised when writing this, I know nothing of the history of Spain during the time of them having rule over Southern Italy, so this isn't particularly historically accurate in forms of what the house would have looked like in those days (meaning I can't be 100% sure they had proper sinks in those days (I tried looking it up, but couldn't really find the answer I was looking for))
Little Romano ran through the Tomato vines, losing himself in the tall plants, being careful not to trip on stray rocks, or loose roots. He could hear the heavy footsteps in the plants behind him, quickly getting closer, but just as quickly he lost them again. Romano could hear the tell-tale sign of Spain's thumping feet, and he giggled quietly to himself.
He was sure he'd lost the Spaniard, so when two strong arms wrapped around his little body and lifted him from the ground, Romano screamed, kicking his legs out.
"I caught you Roma!" Spain grinned at the little boy in his arms, who was pouting at being caught. "You sure are getting fast."
Romano grinned, a grin Spain would learn meant he was truly happy, truly enjoying himself. "Put me down, bastardo!"
Spain complied, setting his small colony on his feet, and bending down to be eye level with the little boy. "Are you hungry, Roma?"
Truthfully, Romano wanted to play more, it wasn't every day that Spain had time to just play with him, to chase him through the large tomato vines, or let him sit on his back and ride him around, like Spain was his own personal horse. It wasn't every day that Spain was home, and in a perfectly good mood. Yet still, Romano put his arms up, signalling that it was okay for Spain to pick him up again.
"I'm starving, Bastardo!"
"Then let's go get a late snack!" Spain turned his back on the little boy, bending down closer to the floor. "Get on my shoulders, Roma, I know how much you love being able to see over the tomato vines."
Romano climbed onto Spain's shoulders, his little legs dangling over and his small hands fisted into Spain's hair, holding him tight enough to not fall, but loose enough to not hurt his boss. Spain wrapped his hands around Romano's legs, making sure to hold him tightly as he stood back up, so the little boy wouldn't fall.
"Wow!" Romano exclaimed, looking over the plants, grinning at the huge fields that surrounded the large house he resided in.
"What would you like to eat, Roma?" Spain asked, walking back slowly through the plants. "I was thinking of making something big for dinner, so nothing too fancy."
"You're cooking?"
"Of course! Belgium and Netherlands are out for the day, so it's just you and me!"
Romano was excited, Spain rarely cooked but when he did, the food was to die for. Usually, Belgium did the cooking, and although her food was amazing, Romano always looked forward to the times when his boss cooked, not that he'd ever tell him that.
"Can't you get one of the maids to do it? Your cooking sucks!"
Spain laughed. "'fraid not, my boy. I wasn't thinking of cooking anyway, how about we have a cheese and tomato sandwich?"
"Whatever, bastardo."
"I take that as a yes? Does Roma want to help boss?"
"No."
Once they were finally out of the tall plants, the excitement of see the fields over the crops wore off, and Romano started struggling, trying to shift himself from Spain's shoulders to be carried normally. Spain happily helped him, lifting the boy up from his shoulders and settling him on his arms, Romano's littler arms clinging to the front of his shirt.
"Would Roma like to help with dinner then?"
"No!"
"Okay. Okay. What would Romano like to do after we eat? We could go out into the fields, if you want?"
"The fields are boring!"
"Then we could go and visit Austria and your little brother, I'm sure Veneziano would be happy to see you."
"No!"
"Tell me what you want to do, and boss will be happy to do it!"
"Anything?" Romano stared up at Spain, his eyes shining. "Can we read?"
"You want to read?"
"Sì. With the voices and everything!" Romano loved the way Spain read to him, all hand gestures and silly voices.
"Reading it is then!"
When finally back in the house, Spain set Romano down on a chair in the kitchen then hurried about, preparing the ingredients. Romano watched, his nails tapping aimlessly on the wooden table. He liked watching Spain working, the pure concentration as he did the smallest of tasks intrigued the young boy.
"Bastardo, is it ready yet?"
"I'm bringing it to the table now, Roma." Spain plated the sandwiches up, then happily set one in front of his young charge, who tucked in quickly, gulping it down in large bites, followed by large gulps of the water Spain had placed beside him.
"Eat slowly, Roma, you'll make yourself sick," Spain said, before taking a sip of his own water. "Boss won't be able to read for you if you're sick."
"Whatever." Despite Romano's tone though, he slowed his eating, making sure to chew properly before swallowing down the mouthful.
"What does Roma want Boss to read for him?"
"I don't care."
"How about 'The Princess and the Witch', I know it's your favourite."
"I hate that one!" Romano lied, spraying food from his mouth across the small table.
"Romano! How many times have I told you not to talk with your mouthful?" Spain asked, his voice stern and angry. "Clean that up, then join me in my room, we'll read before taking a siesta, sí?" He added, his voice softer and smile happier.
"I don't want to." Romano crossed his arms over his chest, pouting.
"Don't make me shout at you, Roma. Clean the table, or no story."
"As if I care," Romano spat, standing up from his seat. "I don't want to read anymore. Take me to the fields, bastardo."
"That's fine, but you still need to clean the table."
"I hate you," Romano muttered, picking up the empty plates and shoving them into the sink, before taking a dry cloth and wiping the table over. Spain stood against a wall, his arms cross over his chest as he waited for his favourite colony to finish his work.
"Roma, do you need the bathroom before we go?" Spain asked as soon as Romano had discarded the cloth onto the side.
"No, bastardo!"
"Then let's go!" Spain held his hand out to his small charge, who took it with feigned annoyance. Romano knew he didn't have to hold Spain's hand, yet he did anyway, telling himself it was because he didn't want to get punished.
"Don't be so cheerful," Romano said, trailing along beside Spain, not that he found walking side-by-side with the older nation was easy, his little legs not quite being able to keep up with Spain's long strides as he waffled on about everything and nothing.
"Shall we pick flowers?"
"Can I give some to Bella?"
"Of course! I'll sort out a little pot you can put them in and everything, she'll love it!"
Romano had to fight the grin from appearing on his face as he imagined the shocked happiness of his present on Belgium's face. He squeezed Spain's hand once, his way of saying thank you without actually having to say the words. Spain understood this, squeezing back and grinning down at the little boy.
As soon as they got to the field, Romano let go of Spain's hand and began walking towards the patch of flowers, he sat down in the centre of them as Spain settled down against a tree, the large branches shading him from the sun.
"Roma, don't forget, if you get too hot be sure to come into the shade!" Spain called, watching his henchmen lazily, the hot summer afternoon making him drowsy.
Romano waved a hand dismissively, his other hand weaving through the flowers, looking for the best and most beautiful ones. He made sure to fill the little basket Spain had given him, leaving just one flower out. The prettiest one. Romano placed it carefully in his pocket, making sure not to crush the pretty petals, or ruin the long stem.
It had taken the young boy hours of flower picking, and several breaks to sit in the shade, but he had finally filled the basket. He swung it back and forth as he made his way back to the Spaniard, who had fallen asleep against the tree, his hands cushioning his head from the bark. Romano sat down beside him, took the flower he'd tucked into his pocket and lightly pushed it into Spain's pocket.
"Hope you're happy, bastardo," he muttered, lying down on his back, his head using Spain's thigh as a pillow and his hand clasping Spain's. "I'm happy, when you're here," he added, his eyes fluttering closed. "Really damn happy." Romano fell asleep, Spain's hand in his limply.
Spain woke an hour later, his back hurting from the weird position against the tree. He was about to call for Romano, wondering where his little charge could have gone, when he realised the slight pressure on his leg, and the hand in his. Romano was drooling slightly, causing a dampness on Spain's trousers.
"Roma," he said, putting his free hand against Romano's forehead. "Much too hot. Roma, we need to head home now." Spain shook the little boy awake, ignoring the words of abuse as he stirred into consciousness.
"I don't feel so good, bastardo," Romano whined, clutching his suddenly aching forehead.
"You've been in the sun too long, let's go home and make dinner, sí?
Romano nodded, shakily getting to his feet. He wondered if Spain had found the flower yet, if he was delighted at the gift, despite it being small. He didn't say anything though, he just picked up the basket and followed Spain back to the house. He was happy they lived near the fields, that the trip to the large mass of land where he could play and run to his heart's content was only a few minutes by foot.
"Do you want to help with dinner, Roma?" Spain asked once they were back in the coolness of the house. "Or would you rather lie down?"
"I want to help dammit."
Spain pulled up a stool so Romano could reach the side comfortably. Spain and Romano worked in a comfortable silence, the only sounds being Romano knife clumsily hitting the side every time he attempted to cut into a tomato. Spain watched out of the corner of his eye, making sure his little henchman didn't cut himself. Thankfully, the cooking went smoothly and in the quickest time Romano could remember, the food was served and he was happily digging in.
After dinner, Spain and Romano moved into the sitting room, where Romano settled on the floor with his paper and the pencil Spain had gotten him from France. Spain sat down beside him, watching as Romano drew patterns across the page, not really meaning to be anything, but also knowing Spain would hang it up somewhere, so he made as good as he could.
"Roma, boss needs to go get your sleeping attire ready, so finish up here and meet me in your bedroom."
"Whatever."
Spain patted the boy's head, stood up and headed out of the room. As soon as Spain was gone, Romano turned the page to his unfinished drawing. Usually, Romano hated his drawing, for they would never be as good as his brother's, but this one he liked. He had gotten Spain's curly hair, and large, bright eyes perfect. Romano continued the drawing, sketching out the clothes he preferred to see Spain in, his sleepwear. The blue nightshirt with the too long sleeves, meant Spain was there, and he wasn't going anywhere. He was home, and he was sleeping in the room next door.
Romano could hear Spain shuffling around, getting their night clothes ready, so Romano shut his book, slipped it back into the space under the loveseat Spain had recently brought, then headed upstairs to Spain.
"Does Roma want Boss to read to him before sleep?" Spain asked, pushing Romano's thin covers to let the little boy climb into bed.
"Do whatever you want, bastard."
Spain grinned, picked up a large book then opened it to Romano's favourite story. He began reading, his silly voice and wild gestures keeping Romano awake more than helping him sleep, but really, Romano didn't mind. He watched Spain move around his room, arms spread out as he re-laid the story he knew by heart to Romano. Spain turned suddenly, eyes wide and happy. Romano knew what was coming, he knew Spain's next move, and he loved it.
Spain bounded towards the bed. "And then!" He exclaimed, scooping Romano into his arms and lifting his shirt slightly. "She blew!" He followed his exclamation by blowing a raspberry into Romano's stomach, who giggled loudly and thrashed in Spain's arms. "And she blew!" Another raspberry, this one longer. Romano's giggled bounced around the room, so loud and happy it made Spain feel just as happy. "Until all the fire was gone." Spain put the young boy down, pulling his night shirt back down to cover him. "And they all lived happily after." Spain pulled the covers up Romano's body, tucking them around him. "The end." Spain kissed Romano's forehead.
"Spagna?" Romano blinked at him tiredly, the energetic day of playing finally catching up to him.
"Sí?"
"Can you sleep with me tonight?"
"Are you sure?"
"Sì."
"Of course." Spain settled into the bed side Romano, his arms wrapping protectively around his small charge.
"Bastardo?"
"Sí?"
"Will you still be here in the morning?"
Spain kissed the back of Romano's head. "I'll still be here in the morning, Roma. Now, go to sleep, we've had a long day."
Romano snuggled himself in Spain's arms, a content smile on his face as sleep took over.
When Romano woke up the next morning, Spain was gone. He searched the entire house, but Spain was nowhere to be found. He looked for a note, a sign on where his boss had gone, but nothing. Eventually he flopped down in the living room and sulked.
"Romano?" Belgium said, walking into the room. "What's wrong?"
"Where's Spain?"
"He had to go away for a while, he didn't tell you?"
Romano crossed his arms over his chest, knowing exactly what 'going away for a while' means when it comes to Spain. It means being away for months at a time and coming home covered in blood, cuts and bruises. "No. The bastard doesn't tell me anything. I hate him. I hate him so much."
Belgium smiled sadly, knowing the true meaning behind the little boy's words. Knowing what Romano really wanted was Spain's return, safe and well. "Why don't we make dinner together tonight?"
"Sì."
"Oh, and thank you for the flowers, Spain said you spent hours picking them for me." Belgium ruffled Romano's hair, giggling at the bright shade of red spreading across his cheeks. "Come on, let's go down to the market," Belgium said, holding her hand out.
Three months had passed since Spain left. Every day Romano waited, sitting in front of the door just hoping that Spain would walk through them, drop to his knees and engulf him in the usual hug that Romano claimed to hate, but really melted into, happy that Spain was home again.
His mood had deteriorated fast, he went from being usual moody Romano to the Romano no one wanted to talk to, scared they'd be under wrath of his fists. Not that Belgium, Netherlands or any of the other servants were scared of the little boy, quite the contrary, they pitied him. Belgium couldn't stand to see the little boy so sad, so scared that maybe this time his boss wouldn't come home.
Romano was on his stomach in his room when the tell-tale sounds of the front door opening resounded through the empty hallways. Romano threw down his book, got to his feet and bounded down the stairs. He knew Spain was home as soon as he smelt the tangy scent of blood. Romano turned the corner, and there he was, Spain covered in blood setting his axe up against the wall. Romano stared for a moment, wondering when Spain was finally going to notice he was there.
Spain stared at his axe, lost in thought, when Romano cleared his throat, sick of waiting for the clueless Spaniard to notice his presence. Spain looked in pain, Romano noted, glancing at the pained look in Spain's eyes.
"Roma!" Spain exclaimed, bending down and opening his arms. "I'm home."
Romano was angry for a second, remembering that Spain hadn't told him he was even leaving, in fact he'd strictly told him he'd still be there in the morning, but as soon as Spain flashed a blinding grin his way, Romano melted. He bounded at Spain, flinging himself at the older nation, knocking them both backwards.
"Welcome home, bastardo," Romano mumbled, nuzzling his head into Spain's chest.
"It's good to be home," Spain replied, holding Romano as tight to his chest as possible. "Thank you for the flower by the way, I kept it with me for good luck!"
"What flower?" Romano pretended he had no idea what Spain was talking about, twisting his fingers into Spain's blood soaked jacket.
"Right, what flower? It was wilted, and crushed, but I loved it. Thank you."
Romano's face heated up momentarily before he pouted. "I'm hungry, jerk-bastardo, make me food!" Romano wiggled out of Spain's arms, and stood up.
"Anything for you, Roma." Spain got to his feet and led Romano to the kitchen where Belgium was cutting some tomatoes.
"Spagna is cooking, Bella," Romano said, flashing a toothy smile at the girl. "Don't dirty your pretty little fingers for the likes of him."
Belgium giggled, happy to see that sparkle back in Romano's eye, the one he only had when he knew of Spain's safety. "Good to see you in one piece, Spain. And I don't mean to sound rude, but I think you should have a bath before you cook."
"Of course! I'll go right away!" Spain grinned, all pain forgotten.
"No!" Romano screeched, tugging on Spain's hand. "He's fine."
"Romano, he's all dirty, you could get ill, and so could he. He won't be gone long, okay?"
"I don't care how long he takes! I'm hungry now dammit!" In truth, Romano wasn't all that hungry, he just desperately didn't want Spain to leave again, even if it was just for a quick bath. He practically hung on Spain's arm, trying to stop him walking out from the kitchen.
"Roma, don't shout. Boss'll be quick, and then we can make food together, sí?"
Romano looked between Belgium and Spain, noticing the silent conversation they were clearly having between them. It only lasted a few seconds before Belgium turned her attention to Romano.
"Roma, why don't you go with Spain?"
"I'm not a child, I don't need to bathe with an adult anymore."
"Not to bathe, but to make sure he doesn't pass out in the bath. You know what he's like, be a big boy and make sure boss here is okay. Make sure to patch him up too, some of those cuts look bad."
Spain went to interject, but Belgium put a finger up to silence him. "Be a big boy for me, yeah?"
Romano blushed, but nodded his head. "I'm a man, I can do it!"
"There's a good boy."
After Spain's bath, Romano made work of the cuts across his back and chest, making sure to cover them properly, the same way Belgium and Spain had done for him for many years. For the most part, Spain sat in silence, only wincing when Romano pressed too hard, or didn't clean a wound properly.
"You're done, bastardo," Romano said, heartily slapping a hand on Spain's shoulder. "Make me dinner now."
Spain grinned. "Gracias, Roma. Let's go and cook now."
"Forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty, ready or not here I come!" Romano could hear Spain's shouting from his hiding place under Spain's bed. He held his breath as he saw Spain's feet walking into the room, his bare feet sinking into the fluffy carpet.
"Roma, Roma, Roma! You know boss'll find you!"
Romano slapped a hand to his mouth to stop himself laughing as Spain knelt on the bed above him, still calling his name.
"I guess Roma's not in here." Spain sighed, lying on his stomach over the bed.
Romano was sure he'd given up, so when two arms pulled him from under the bed, and threw him in to the air slightly, and catching him Romano was freaked. He pounded on Spain's chest as Spain tickled his sides, laughing and grinning like a hyena.
"Stop! Stop! Are you trying to kill me dammit?"
Spain's fingers came to a halt, and he sat back on his heels, letting Romano catch his breath. When he had, Romano turned to Spain.
"You know, bastardo, one day I'm going to be bigger than you!"
"Is that so?"
"Yup. I'm going to tower over you, and you're going to worship me."
"I'll keep that in mind, Roma." Spain didn't seem to believe him, Romano noted, he watched as Spain settled back against the pillows. "So, Roma, are you ready to go find Belgium?"
"Sì!"
Romano loved the days Spain set aside for him, he loved the days him and Spain could just play stupid games, games he'd played a thousand times before. He adored the times he and Spain would cook together, making all sorts of dishes that he never could have dreamed of if Spain didn't tell him about them.
Romano looked forward to the times he and Spain would chase each other through the high tomato plants, or bask in the sunny fields. He looked forward to the times they'd read together, and Romano could listen to the silly voices and watch in awe at the unnecessary hand gestures, loving each raspberry Spain blew onto his stomach.
Most of all, Romano loved Spain. He loved the dopey grin, and the happy babble. He loved his pseudo-brother, and the time, albeit small amount of time, were Romano's favoured memories. The games of hide-and-seek that despite all hiding places having been used, Romano never brew bored of. The happy laughter as Spain chased him, ready to wrap his warm arms around Romano's small body.
Romano knew for years to come, Spain would always be his favourite person, and the person behind all his happy childhood memories. Because that's what they were, he was, much to everyone's surprise, a happy child.
A/N: I cut a lot out of this one, as I didn't particularly want a lot of angst, or sadness on Romano's part, so I cut a lot of the times from Spain being away (which I'm thinking of using in a different ChibiRomano and Boss Spain fic).
I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I think this is my first just completely fluffy, family fic, so go me.