Lovino Vargas had a secret that he has been keeping from the entire world (quite literally) for centuries.
No, he was /not/ a woman or anything of the sort, God damn it, stop jumping to conclusions.
Only two people in the entire universe knew of this secret; his little brother Feliciano found out after they were fist fighting (more like the elder beating up the younger) and Feliciano reached out to defend himself somewhat, his fingernails accidentally skittering across his sensitive skin, causing a bark of laughter to tear through his throat before he could even process what had just happened . The sneaky bastard has used it to his advantage ever since.
The other man was, extremely unfortunate for the Italian, Antonio Carriedo-Fernandez.
That damn Spanish bastard.
He hadn't planned on him finding out. He had no control over it. The few times the man had actually been present in his childhood he had decided to try and act like the big brother he was deluding himself into believing; because obviously normal big brothers come home from exploring the world covered in blood, take a nap and a bath, then decide to have a random tickle fight "because (he) looked so cute with that pout on his face!"
Dio he was an asshole.
The small brunette practically melted into a fit of garbled curses and laughter, small body squirming and flailing in all directions to bat away the offending limbs. He ended up getting an opening as the Spainard joined him in his laughter, temporarily stilling his actions long enough for Lovino to headbutt him and escape.
So now, as a very, very grown adult, the Southern Italian personification had to regularly fend off tickle fights from his former caretaker. He constantly wondered why he even put up with the damn moron, but that smile and carefree laughter always caught his heart in a vice grip and reminded him, very painfully, just why he allowed him in his home.
"Get the hell away from me!" he shouted, swatting away the hands attempting to get his sides from behind. He spun around to growl at him, amber orbs narrowed in complete frustration. Couldn't the bastard see he was trying to hang up his new Armani suits?
"I wasn't trying to do anything, Lovi!" Antonio protested, bottom lip jutted out in a pout to complete his act of innocence, the mishivious glint in his eyes telling a completely different story. Dio, couldn't he be surrounded by normal people for once?
He rolled his eyes and returned to his actions, previous troubles forgotten for the moment. When he finished hanging up the last one he heard a somewhat whiny voice pipe up with "Lovinito, are you done yet?"
Frustrated by the lack of patience in this man, he pinched the bridge of his nose, a sigh slipping past his lips. "Si, I'm done, moron. Now stop asking."
"Good!" the elder cried, the grin practically melting into his voice. Lovino heard the sound bed springs squeaking quietly and before he could even yell at him for getting on his bed, hands were scratching at his sides and he was laughing, laughing so hard he couldn't even yell. A second set of laughter melded with his own, both of the men now half-way doubled over, one trying to get hands off of his sensitive sides while the other was desperately trying to keep that laughter going.
"B.. Bastardo..!" the Italian gasped between his bouts of laughter, digging his nails to get him off. Unfortunately, it didn't divert his attention, only made the attack more severe. Antonio led him to the bed, pushing him down onto it to let his hands scramble over his front, hitting all of his sensitive areas. The laughter increased until he was squirming and tears were rolling down his cheek, the grin spread over the normally scowling face stretched to its limit.
"Lo siento," he chuckled, letting his hands rest on the sides of the bed as he leaned down to press a light kiss to his nose, smile quite amused. "I just love your laugh so much I had to hear it again."
"I'll kill you." the man on the bed breathed, letting his grin slowly fade, making the other desperately wish for a camera to capture the moment, to prove he was capable of such a light-hearted smile. He frowned a bit at the loss, quickly promising himself that he would make sure to bring that smile back one day.
"Te amo." Spain cooed, fingertips trailing along his jawbone, a soft smile lifting up the corners of his lips as he watched his former charge catch his breath. He caught a tear on his thumb, rubbing it off on his other fingers softly.
"Anch'io ti amo," was the quiet response, cheeks suddenly heated under his touch. He looked away, scowl once again present on the tanned face as he glared at a pillow as if it had just insulted his style.
"Awwww, Lovi, you look just like a toma-!"
"I hate you you stupid bastard! Get out of my house! Chigi! Moron! Asshole! Ouuuuuuut!"