cutthroatpixie (
cutthroatpixie) wrote2009-08-21 11:44 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Fic: Slipping Through My Fingers
Title: Slipping Through My Fingers
Author/Artist:
cutthroatpixie
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Spain and Romano
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: After a tomato picking induced injury, Spain takes care of Romano. Written for
hetalia_kink
It was one tradition that Romano had to grudgingly admit he actually enjoyed sharing with Spain: the harvest of their much beloved tomatoes. Many days were spent out in Spain's tomato fields, under the warm summer sun, Romano actually doing work for once. Spain enjoyed every moment of it, sampling the soft, delicious fruit, laughing as he lifted Romano up to pluck some tomatoes the young nation otherwise couldn't reach.
Spain held Romano to his chest, snuggling the small boy as he dropped tomatoes into the baskets on the ground. "So cu~te," he sighed happily, earning a glare in return.
"Let me go, bastard," Romano growled, letting go of the tomato he was using and struggling to be let down. "I can pick the tomatoes just fine myself!"
"Aww, but this is so much better." Spain refused to let up, clutching Romano in a tight hug, any pretence of productivity gone as they both struggled for control, Romano kicking and punching, Spain hugging and snuggling. "Stop that, Lovi, this is so uncute."
"You stop!" Romano brought his foot forward, kicking back and hitting Spain square in the gut. With a surprised grunt of pain, Spain momentarily lost grip of Romano, who went tumbling to the ground, crashing into one of the empty baskets below. Romano's head banged against the basket's edge, and tears clouded his vision. "You're not supposed to drop me, idiot Spain!"
Spain's own pain was immediately forgotten. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Are you okay?!" He scooped the boy up, wiping his tears and checking for injuries. "We've done enough for today, lets go home and I'll have somebody else get the baskets."
Romano sniffled and buried his face in Spain's shoulder, attempting to hide the tears that were quickly soaking Spain's shirt. After briefly speaking with another man who was out working in the field, Spain started walking back home, rubbing Romano's back the entire was as he cried.
The two were quickly back inside Spain's house, and Romano was laid down in bed while Spain went to the bathroom to grab a large bundle of cloths and bandages. He kneeled next to the bed, frantically looking at all Romano's small nicks and bruises, covering them up as soon as he saw them.
"I'm not bleeding, stupid." Spain wrapped some strips of cloth around Romano's bruised head, planting kisses on each little scrape and sore spot, much to Romano's chagrin. Spain frowned when his light pecks caused Romano to wince and tear up again, and he sat on the bed, pulling Romano into his lap.
"I'm sorry, Lovi." Spain gently stroked Romano's hair, carefully avoiding the sore spots.
Romano sulked and cuddled into Spain's lap, enjoying the comfort Spain was offering far more than he would ever admit to. "You better be."
"I am."
"Good."
Spain laid back in the bed, bringing Romano with him. "We'll do better tomorrow."
Neither said anything for awhile after that, simply laying there together as Romano's tears died down.
The calm silence didn't last forever, of course. "I'm hungry, bastard, when are you making dinner?"
Spain laughed and ruffled Romano's hair, simply glad the boy was feeling better. "I'll do that now."
Author/Artist:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Spain and Romano
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: After a tomato picking induced injury, Spain takes care of Romano. Written for
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
It was one tradition that Romano had to grudgingly admit he actually enjoyed sharing with Spain: the harvest of their much beloved tomatoes. Many days were spent out in Spain's tomato fields, under the warm summer sun, Romano actually doing work for once. Spain enjoyed every moment of it, sampling the soft, delicious fruit, laughing as he lifted Romano up to pluck some tomatoes the young nation otherwise couldn't reach.
Spain held Romano to his chest, snuggling the small boy as he dropped tomatoes into the baskets on the ground. "So cu~te," he sighed happily, earning a glare in return.
"Let me go, bastard," Romano growled, letting go of the tomato he was using and struggling to be let down. "I can pick the tomatoes just fine myself!"
"Aww, but this is so much better." Spain refused to let up, clutching Romano in a tight hug, any pretence of productivity gone as they both struggled for control, Romano kicking and punching, Spain hugging and snuggling. "Stop that, Lovi, this is so uncute."
"You stop!" Romano brought his foot forward, kicking back and hitting Spain square in the gut. With a surprised grunt of pain, Spain momentarily lost grip of Romano, who went tumbling to the ground, crashing into one of the empty baskets below. Romano's head banged against the basket's edge, and tears clouded his vision. "You're not supposed to drop me, idiot Spain!"
Spain's own pain was immediately forgotten. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Are you okay?!" He scooped the boy up, wiping his tears and checking for injuries. "We've done enough for today, lets go home and I'll have somebody else get the baskets."
Romano sniffled and buried his face in Spain's shoulder, attempting to hide the tears that were quickly soaking Spain's shirt. After briefly speaking with another man who was out working in the field, Spain started walking back home, rubbing Romano's back the entire was as he cried.
The two were quickly back inside Spain's house, and Romano was laid down in bed while Spain went to the bathroom to grab a large bundle of cloths and bandages. He kneeled next to the bed, frantically looking at all Romano's small nicks and bruises, covering them up as soon as he saw them.
"I'm not bleeding, stupid." Spain wrapped some strips of cloth around Romano's bruised head, planting kisses on each little scrape and sore spot, much to Romano's chagrin. Spain frowned when his light pecks caused Romano to wince and tear up again, and he sat on the bed, pulling Romano into his lap.
"I'm sorry, Lovi." Spain gently stroked Romano's hair, carefully avoiding the sore spots.
Romano sulked and cuddled into Spain's lap, enjoying the comfort Spain was offering far more than he would ever admit to. "You better be."
"I am."
"Good."
Spain laid back in the bed, bringing Romano with him. "We'll do better tomorrow."
Neither said anything for awhile after that, simply laying there together as Romano's tears died down.
The calm silence didn't last forever, of course. "I'm hungry, bastard, when are you making dinner?"
Spain laughed and ruffled Romano's hair, simply glad the boy was feeling better. "I'll do that now."