He never liked it with that idiot Spain had his friends over. They were so loud and obnoxious, especially when they started getting drunk. Sometimes he wished his stupid caretaker would kick them out but that day would never come. The Spaniard loved his friends and always looked forward to when they'd come and keep him company. He'd always tell Romano to be polite and keep his mouth in check when they visited. So the little Italian would hide in his room until the next morning. He'd throw tantrums and make demands of Spain so that all of his attention was him, no one else. Not that Romano would ever confess that out loud and even in his mind he'd deny it.

S-stupid Spain. Stupid friends of Spain. Romano huffed as he buried his face into his pillow. I don't need him! I can do things by myself! And I'm going to prove it! I'm going to pick tomatoes by myself and he'll be so proud but he can't have any of my tomatoes! Then he'll be jealous!

With this plan in mind the little Italian rolled off his bed and made his way down the hall but stopped mid-step at the top of the stairs. He could hear singing and judging by the accent it was Spain. Romano became curious as to who he was singing for. Certainly not those idiots. There had to be someone else. Maybe Miss Belgium? No, she wasn't here right now.

Who is that idiota singing for? Romano's cheeked puffed up as he stomped down the stairs and peered around the corner into the room where the singing was coming from. He could France and Prussia, both listening with smiles on their faces and drinks in hand. There's no way stupid Spain is singing for them! So who is-? His train of thought derailed.

Spain was indeed sitting in a chair singing and sitting in his lap was Veneziano, Romano's twin brother. The sweet little boy was singing along in a softer voice and using his own language. The two sounded- Well it was near perfection. Romano thought it sounded nice but no matter how nice it still made his blood boil and tears built up at the corner of his eyes. What was his brother doing here in the first place? Did one of those idiots bring him here? Or maybe-? Was Spain giving him up so he could have Veneziano?

He already tried trading me once. Would he try again? Does that idiota hate me that much? Romano took a few steps back as the tears threatened to spill. He brought a tiny hand up to his mouth in case any sounds came out that would give him away. I knew it! Everyone likes Veneziano better than me! I, I can't blame them. He can paint and cook and sing... so much better than I ever could. Well, fine! Spain can have him! I don't care! I don't need him!

Romano ran as fast as his tiny legs would carry him. They brought him out the door and towards the tomato orchard that Spain and he started years ago. He sniffled as he took a seat between two of the larger plants, hoping that leaves would keep him hidden. He buried his face into his apron, letting the white fabric soak up all the tears.

Stupid Spain. If he doesn't need me, well, fine! I don't need him either. He repeated before his eyes fluttered shut and his mind slipped into a uncomfortable slumber.

It was late into the night when France and Prussia left with little Ita-chan. Spain saw them out and said his goodbyes before shutting the door. He turned and grinned but it faltered when he realized something.

"Hmm, I haven't heard a peep from Romano. Usually he's yelling at me to cook him dinner or to clean his room by now," Spain said to no one in particular as he ascended the stairs. "Usually he likes to hide when I have friends over. Maybe he fell asleep! Well, I can't let mi pequeño tomate sleep with an empty tummy!"

He approached the door and was about to knock when he realized the door was open just enough for someone as tiny as Romano to slip out. The Spaniard tilted his head and pushed it open, peering inside. The room was dark and the bed was a mess; a clear sign that his little henchman was in here. He ventured in and moved the comforter and sheets around but Romano wasn't occupying it. Spain sped out of the room and started to check everywhere for his fledgling but there was no sign of the boy.

"Romano! Come out now, you're starting to worry boss!" There was no cynical laugh or shout for food or cursing about how stupid he sounded. Spain bit down on his lip and walked to the kitchen but Romano wasn't there either. He sighed as he glanced out window that gave him quite the view of his tomato garden.

The tomato garden! Spain's mind clicked as he practically ripped the door off it's hinges and ran out to the garden.

"Romano! Romano, are you out here? Answer boss, Romano!" He shouted frantically as he weaved in and out through the plants, looking for any sign of his little tomato. He was becoming more discouraged when his search was failing to give him results. The Spaniard was about to give up and go inside, wondering if his little henchman had found a really good hiding spot in the house. But as he turned a sound caught his attention; a soft whimper. It was coming from the right. He slowly walked over and crouched down when the sound got louder. He brushed aside some wilting leaves.

"Romano!" He was about to pick up the sleeping child but paused. Romano was whimpering in his sleep and there were tears falling down his chubby cheeks. "Oh, Romano, what's wrong?" Spain picked up the little Italian and cradled him close to his chest, one hand rubbing his back soothingly.

"It's all alright now. I'm here to protect you," He whispered softly. Romano stirred ever so slightly and his amber eyes started to open. When his sleep fogged brain was finally able to register where he was and who's arms he was in he went on the defense almost instantly and began to struggle.

"P-Put me down! Stupid Spain!" Romano's tiny hands pressed against Spain's face, a weak attempt to get away from his caretaker. The Spaniard's grip tightened but just enough so that the little one couldn't get away. "Hey, hey! Don't squish me! Put me down! Go back to Veneziano! I don't need you!" Spain blinked.

"Roma, is that what this is about? Did you hear boss singing with Ita-chan?" Romano looked away. His face was red and his cheeks were puffed up angrily. Spain laughed. "You look so cute, like a tomato. Mi pequeño tomate." Romano blinked as Spain's face rubbed against his.

"Romano, it was just singing. Veneziano went home with the others, so it's just the two of us now."

"I, I don't care! I don't need you," The little one shouted as he started to hit Spain's chest with his tiny fists. The older man chuckled softly as he started walking back towards the house, humming softly. Romano ceased his hitting and looked up at his caretaker. He recognized that tune. Spain would sing it to him before bed time. He bit down on his lip for just a moment before opening his mouth,

"A la nanita nana nanita... Ella nanita ella, Mi nina tiene sueno bendito sea, bendito sea."

Spain chuckled before joining his little Romano,

"A la nanita nana nanita... Ella nanita ella, Mi nina tiene sueno bendito sea, bendito sea."

Together the two of them sang. Spain's steps slowed, making the walk back a little longer.

TRANSLATIONS

*I use google translate. So yes, things might be wrong.

Idiota (Italian) = Idiot (Like I needed to tell you that)

Mi pequeño tomate (Spanish) = My little tomato

Another story because I'm slowly trying to get into Hetalia writing. And yeah. I adore SpainxRomano, whether it's as parent and child or romantic. I'm a sucker for these two. /flails

I know this has probably been written before but I don't know. I just wanted to write something cute and this came to my mind instantly.