I was inspired by a song my mom used to sing to me when I was a baby that she had learned in her high school Spanish class. I still ask her to sing it every once in a while.

Conejito

Antonio had just lain down next to his husband, ready for a nice, well deserved night's sleep. He curled up under the covers, wrapping his arms around Lovino, rubbing the belly that was swollen with their second child. Lovino sighed in his sleep and subconsciously snuggled closer to his husband, his back to Antonio's chest.

"Sleep well, mi querido. Te amo." Lovino just gave a slight snore. The Spaniard closed his eyes, trying to let sleep overcome him as well. Just as he followed his husband's lead into unconsciousness, a small voice and an even smaller hand tugging at the covers on his side of the bed brought him back.

"¿Papá? I had a bad dream…" A little boy with tousled brown hair tugged on the covers again, tears in his eyes, threatening to fall.

"Ay, mi hijo, do you want me to read you a story to help you go back to sleep?" Antonio yawned, blinking sleepily as he gazed down at the toddler. The little boy shook his head.

"¿Puedes cantar me el conejito canción, por favor papá?"

Can you sing me the bunny song, please daddy?

Antonio's heart melted at the sight of his son's big puppy eyes, the boy's lower lip trembling as he requested his favorite lullaby from his papá.

"Of course I can, mi hijo!" He said quietly, so as to not wake up his sleeping pregnant husband (that wouldn't end well—it took forever for Lovi to fall asleep already, what with being seven months pregnant. Lovino would raise hell if he were woken up). He quickly and quietly, without disturbing Lovino, got out of bed and picked his son up. He carried the small boy out of the room and down the hall to the toddler's own, laying the boy down in bed gently. He pet his son's hair after tucking him in snuggly and handing him his favorite stuffed animal—Señor Conejito, Mr. Bunny.

"¡Gracías, Papá!"

"De nada. Anything for you, mi hijo. Now, shh, close your eyes and just listen to the song, okay?" The boy nodded his head, his green eyes blinking as his father grabbed the guitar that he had been keeping in the boy's room since before he was born. He began strumming the tune that was so familiar and calming to the boy as his Papá began to sing softly.

"En el bosque, la casita,"

In the forest, the little house,

"Un hombre por la ventanilla,"

A man by the window

"Conejito qué brincaba,"

Little bunny comes over to it

"En la puerta golpeaba."

It bangs on the door

"'¡Ayúdamé, ayúdamé, ayúdamé, señor!'"

"Help me, help me, help me, sir!"

"'¡Me caza el cazador!'"

"The hunter is hunting me!"

"'Ven conejito, ven adentro,'"

"Come little bunny, come inside,"

"Quedate en paz."

"Stay in peace."

Antonio heard a soft snoring from the bed as he looked up to see his son cuddling Señor Conejito and snuggled comfortably under his blankets, fast asleep. Antonio smiled and gave the boy a kiss on the forehead. He stood and put the guitar back in its place before walking to the door. Before he left the room, he turned back to look at his sleeping son once more, his smile never leaving, never faltering. As he shut the door he whispered:

"Dormir bien, mi hijo. Te quiero."

Sleep well, my son. I love you.