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silenzahra · 2 months

Note

🥰 for the writing prompt? Writer's choice!

Referring to this post ✨

This fic was loooong overdue! I am really sorry to have kept you waiting for so long, but I hope it was worth the wait! 🙏

Thank you sooooo much for sending me this prompt! It has truly melted my heart to work on this idea 🥺 I really hope you like it! 💖

Are you ready for some brotherly fluff? 🤭💚❤️

Here's the link to AO3 in case you'd rather read it there! ✨

Wordless Love

When Luigi arrives home, Mario still hasn't returned.

Luigi sighs and closes the door behind him. The pipes in the castle really must be clogged. He wonders if he should come to his brother's aid, but he knows that, if Mario needed his help, he would have called him.

Besides, this gives Mario and Peach a chance to spend some more time together.

With a somewhat amused smile, Luigi leaves the toolbox on the entrance cabinet and hangs his hat on the rack. He's feeling very tired after a long day of single-handedly serving his Brooklyn clients, and all he feels like doing is taking a shower, grabbing a quick dinner, and going to bed.

But he can't go to sleep without Mario. Even though he knows his big brother is safe and sound in Princess Peach's castle, Luigi needs Mario to, at least, be home so he can fall asleep.

So he heads to the bathroom and takes a fast, but warm and relaxing shower. When he finishes, and since Mario isn’t home yet, Luigi opts to leave everything ready to make dinner later and goes out into the garden.

It's cool, as autumn is coming to the Mushroom Kingdom, but that doesn't stop him. Luigi smiles as he walks through his small garden, the one he has cultivated with so much care and attention since he and Mario moved there. He looks closely at each plant, each flower, and makes sure to irrigate the ones that need some water. He talks to each and every one of them, tells them how beautiful they are that night, and quietly sings a little song during his walk. He also makes sure to check that the automatic watering system he installed with Mario's help is still working perfectly, and smiles to himself, satisfied, after verifying that it is.

These flowers, this garden, are his pride and joy. Every day he’s more and more happy for the good fortune of having a small corner in which to raise his favorite flowers. When he lived in Brooklyn he had to make do with a couple of flowerpots, but, in the Mushroom Kingdom, there’s room for all the plants in the world. So, without a second thought, Luigi transplanted his first two flowers and, since then, he’s grown many more.

And now his beloved garden looks beautiful in broad daylight as well as under the faint, bright glow of the full moon. Each flower has a particular beauty and scent, and Luigi has learned to recognize each one by its fragrance before he even sees them.

When he re-enters the house, he realizes that he has spent a whole hour outside, walking among his plants and singing to them. However, just as he closes the garden door behind him, the front door, which is opposite him on the other side of the living room, opens at last.

“Mario!” he exclaims as soon as he sees him enter, and runs towards him. “You’re back!”

Before his brother has time to drop his tools or close the door behind him, Luigi pounces on him. Mario lets out a loud laugh of surprise and staggers back a little at his impetus but does not hesitate to return his brother's embrace with the same heartiness.

“Yeah, I’m back,” he mumbles, laughing, as he pats Luigi’s back.

They smile at each other as they part, happy to be together again. Luigi takes Mario’s hat from him and hangs it on the rack next to his.

“Looks like there was a lot of work at the castle today, right?” he says meanwhile.

“Oh, you just can’t imagine!” Mario exclaims, dropping his tools any which way on the entrance cabinet. “I think we’d better go together next time. We’ll simply postpone all the appointments we have with our Brooklyn customers.”

Smiling, Luigi carefully sets each tool in its place inside the toolbox he’s been carrying all day.

“I thought about coming to help you,” he admits, “but I didn’t know if you’d be... busy.”

He wonders if Mario will understand what he’s referring to, if he'll catch the hidden meaning beneath that one word, but he senses he'll have to keep that joke to himself.

“Busy?” Mario looks at him with a raised eyebrow, confused. “What do you mean by that?”

Luigi lets out a low chuckle as he places the last tool.

“It’s nothing, don’t mind me,” he says, amused, and grabs Mario’s hand to lead him to the kitchen. “Come on! Are you hungry? How about I make you a lasagna?”

“Lasagna?” Mario repeats, his face suddenly lighting up like a lighthouse in the middle of the darkest night. “But of course! What kind of question is that?”

Luigi lets out a chuckle, cheerful and touched in equal parts. His brother will never change, and Luigi adores him more and more every day for that.

Amid jokes and laughter, the brothers enter the kitchen. Luigi, after putting on his green apron with a pattern of orange flowers, starts cooking immediately, and Mario, instead of sitting down, stands next to him and passes him the ingredients and utensils needed to prepare the lasagna. In the meantime, he tells Luigi how his day has been, as they separated in the morning to go to work in different places, and explains how difficult it was to unblock all the pipes in the castle. Then, always ready to listen to him, Mario asks Luigi how his day has been, but Luigi, more focused on the cooking, shrugs and quickly summarizes what has been a very normal working day for him.

“And how’s Peach?” he asks casually as they wait for the lasagna to be ready. “How did things go with her?”

“Just as usual.” This time it’s Mario who shrugs, but Luigi doesn’t fail to notice that a slight blush is now covering his brother’s cheeks. “You know her. She’s very... kind and sweet. Just as usual,” he repeats, looking away.

Luigi covers his mouth with his hand to hide a giggle. He would love to hear more, to encourage Mario to tell him more about those feelings that have undoubtedly blossomed in his heart after meeting the beautiful princess, but Luigi doesn't insist. He knows his brother so well that he’s convinced he will open up when the time comes, when he feels ready, and Luigi wouldn't want to pressure him for anything in the world.

It doesn't take long for the lasagna to be ready at last. As he does every night, Luigi serves his brother first, and smiles at the keenness with which Mario takes the first bite. As he sits down, his plate already full, he notices his brother's satisfied expression, and the soft "Mmm!" Mario emits as he chews causes Luigi’s smile to widen.

“My goodness, Luigi,” Mario exclaims admiringly. “Your cooking gets better every day!”

Luigi blushes and laughs nervously.

“Th-thank you,” he stammers, embarrassed, before starting to eat too.

During dinner, however, Luigi realizes something that makes him uneasy: his brother is tired. More than him, even. Luigi knows this because Mario, who usually talks non-stop between bites, remains silent this time, just centered on savoring the lasagna, a clear indication that his energy has diminished considerably since he came back home. Luigi sees it in his eyelids, which appear somewhat droopy, no doubt exhausted and eager to close until the next day. Luigi senses it in the slowness with which Mario gradually puts the food into his mouth. Still, every time their eyes meet, Mario gives him warm smiles and makes sure to keep telling him how delicious he finds the lasagna.

Luigi loves to cook and always feels flattered that his brother so enthusiastically enjoys the dishes he lovingly prepares for him.

But tonight there is something more important.

Tonight is not just about having dinner with Mario and spending some quality time with him before going to bed, but also about taking care of his exhausted older brother.

“Come on,” he says as he gets up, once they’ve both finished dessert. “How about I run you a hot bath to help you relax?”

Mario smiles, and his grin, although full of affection as always, is also a true reflection of the fatigue that plagues him from within.

“I’d love that, Lu.”

Determined, Luigi begins to pick up the dishes, but, when he’s about to start washing them, meaning to do it quickly so that he can take care of Mario, he senses some fingers on his shoulder that make him turn around. He meets again his brother’s sweet smile, who reaches out his other hand to take the plate that Luigi had grabbed.

“I’ll wash them,” Mario offers.

“Oh, no, that’s not necessary,” Luigi refuses, worried that Mario’s tiredness will increase.

“I insist, Lu.” Mario, unwilling to surrender, gives him a gentle and playful hip thrust to softly push him away. “You made dinner. It’s only fair.”

Luigi knows Mario's determined expression too well to know there's no point in trying to stop him. Defeated, he agrees to step away from the kitchen sink with a resigned sigh and watches his brother with a hand on his hip.

“All right, you win,” he concedes, at which Mario’s smile widens. “I’ll go draw your bath.”

Mario nods with a chuckle as he does the dishes, and Luigi takes off his apron, which he had inadvertently left on during dinner, and goes into the bathroom. The first thing he does is close the door and turn on the heater to warm up the room. After putting the plug in the bathtub, he turns on the hot water faucet first and lets the tub fill up a bit before turning on the cold, but not too much. He wants the water to be hot and to last like that long enough for Mario's muscles to relax after today's hard work.

In the meantime, he hangs Mario's bathrobe on the rack next to the tub and places a small towel on a stool in case his brother wants to wash his hair. Luigi also prepares the shampoo, soap and sponge, and puts them on top of the towel so that Mario can reach them from inside the bathtub. He takes the hairdryer out of the cupboard where they keep it and carefully sets it in a corner of the sink, because he knows that Mario does not like to go to bed with wet hair, so he will need it if he decides to wash his head. Luigi quickly leaves the bathroom to go to his bedroom for a moment: he hurriedly opens the top drawer of the dresser they share, takes out Mario's favorite pajamas and returns to the bathroom at lightning speed. He then pours some soothing bath salts into the water and places a towel on the floor, in front of the tub, so that Mario won't slip.

Finally, satisfied with his work, Luigi turns off the faucet, switches off the heater and goes out into the hallway in search of his brother.

“The bath is ready!” he announces with an exaggerated flourish as he enters the kitchen.

Mario laughs, giving him an amused look, and puts the last plate away on the sideboard before following him. Although the bathroom is very close to the kitchen, Luigi guides his brother as if they were inside one of those old mansions with an infinite number of corridors and rooms and opens the door with a graceful bow.

“I hope you find it to your liking, sir,” he says, modifying his voice so that it sounds deep.

Mario lets out a chuckle again but puts his shoulders back and places both hands behind his back as he walks past Luigi into the bathroom.

“Very warm and cozy, butler,” he replies, imitating his brother’s tone.

Luigi, still bent over and with his arm outstretched, is forced to cover his mouth with his other hand to contain the snort that was about to escape from his throat. However, when he straightens up, his laughter is stifled by the tender look, full of gratitude, that Mario, standing in front of him, throws at him.

Then Mario reaches out and wraps an arm around his neck to pull him close, giving him a quick squeeze in which their cheeks squish against the other’s. The moment is so fleeting that Luigi does not have time to raise his arm to reciprocate the gesture of his brother, who, a second before releasing him, turns his head to place a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, Lu,” he says, his voice full of warmth. “It’s just what I needed.”

Luigi's heart beats a little faster, full of bliss, and a touched smile blooms on his face as the blood rushes to his cheeks. Despite the fact that Mario showers him in affection quite often, Luigi just can’t help blushing. Inside him, tenderness and emotion intermingle with a certain embarrassment that makes him feel bashful, as he does not think he deserves so much gratitude. After all, he’s taking care of his brother in the same way Mario has taken care of him and watched over him all his life. That's how they’ve always worked and that's how they will continue to work.

Still, he keeps smiling at Mario, who watches him with his warm grin tattooed on his face as he slowly slides shut the bathroom door. On impulse, when there’s barely a small crack left, Luigi raises his hand and waves it in farewell, and Mario, with a chuckle, reciprocates his gesture immediately.

Luigi sighs, satisfied, when the door finally closes. He’s sure that the bath will do Mario good, so he goes to his room to give his brother some space and privacy. He really hopes it will be to his liking and help him relax.

Once in his bedroom, Luigi feels as if the autumn chill has crept into it through a window. He makes sure all of them are closed and opts to turn on the radiator to warm up the bedroom a bit, especially to keep Mario from getting cold when he finishes his bath. Luigi goes over to his brother's bed, uncovers it and grabs the pillows to soften them a bit, since that's how Mario feels most comfortable. He turns on both nightlights, Mario's red one and his green one, and looks around to make sure everything is in order.

As he stands in the center of the room, Luigi feels a huge wave of exhaustion wash over him. His day has not been as hard as Mario's, but he certainly needs to rest too, although he knows he can't do so until his brother goes to bed as well. He doesn't want to pressure him or interrupt his bath, so Luigi takes his time to tidy up the room a bit, uncover his own bed and put on his pajamas.

Just as he finishes buttoning the top of his green and white striped pajamas, he suddenly remembers something. He almost forgot! He rushes hurriedly out of his room and into the kitchen. Trying to go slowly so as not to break anything with his usual clumsiness, Luigi pulls a glass from the cupboard, fills it with fresh milk and pops it into the microwave.

He’s walking past the bathroom just as the sound of the hairdryer reaches his ears. Luigi sighs in relief, for he knows what that means: his brother will be out in no more than five minutes, so he will find the glass of hot milk waiting for him on his bedside table, where Luigi carefully places it. Satisfied, he picks up the book waiting on his own nightstand and goes to the living room to sit in his rocking chair, where he plans to read while waiting for Mario.

The book is so interesting that it grabs his attention right away, making him lose track of time. When the bathroom door finally opens, Luigi realizes that he has read ten pages almost without blinking. He smiles to himself, for he's loving the story he's reading, and places the bookmark between the pages before looking up.

As he does so, Luigi lets out a little chuckle: his brother, standing in the doorway, has skin almost redder than his pajama top. Mario, hearing him, smiles with resignation.

“I overdid it with the hot water, didn’t I?” he says with a laugh, heading for the bedroom.

“A little,” Luigi replies, amused, going after him.

This time it is Mario who holds the door for him, and Luigi gives him a nod and a chuckle as he enters the room. Gently and smiling, Mario takes the book from his hands and goes to Luigi's bedside table to leave it there, while Luigi, somewhat surprised, closes the door behind him and walks to his bed as well.

After dropping the book, Mario turns to face him. Luigi stops in front of his brother and wonders if, perhaps, Mario wants to tell him something or ask him for something else before going to sleep.

But his brother doesn't utter a word: with a warm smile on his lips, he raises his arms and wraps them around Luigi, resting his chin on his shoulder and placing a hand on the back of his neck to bring him closer. Despite his initial astonishment, Luigi immediately relaxes in his big brother's arms and, with a smile, lifts his arms to wrap them around Mario's waist as he closes his eyes. His brother, patting his back gently and running his fingers through his hair at the back of his neck, lets out a deep and resounding sigh while still hugging him tightly.

“Thank you for always taking care of me, Lu,” he whispers, his lips close to Luigi’s ear.

“Oh.” Luigi lets out a nervous giggle. “You don’t have to thank me, Mario. That’s what brothers do, right?”

Luigi feels him laugh in his arms.

“I’m certainly lucky to have you as a brother.”

Luigi's heart warms up, overwhelmed by a deep emotion. He feels his eyes moisten and he embraces his brother with more strength and affection, hoping, wishing, that his way of hugging him will be enough to let Mario know that he is the one who feels fortunate to have him as his big brother. If he had nothing else, if he were homeless and jobless and could not find anything to eat every day, he would still feel the luckiest man in the world if he still had Mario by his side. He doesn't need anything else to be happy.

They remain like this, embraced, Luigi's hands on Mario's back and waist, Mario's hands on the back of Luigi's neck and back, for a time they cannot, and will not, determine. Wrapped in a warmth that comes from both the radiator and their own hearts, the brothers enjoy those brief moments of peace and safety in each other's arms, in which, without the need for words, they express how much they love the other and how important they are to each other.

With a sigh, Mario begins to pull away from Luigi, very slowly, as if he doesn't really want to, and Luigi understands, for he too is reluctant to end the contact. His brother slides his hand from the back of his neck to his cheek and watches him intensely, his blue eyes glistening with emotion.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

And Luigi knows, with absolute certainty, that Mario is speaking from the heart, as he always does when he expresses his affection towards him, as deep as Luigi's for him. With a heartfelt smile, Luigi raises a hand and places it on Mario's.

“I will always be here for you,” he promises, looking into his eyes.

With tenderness shining in his, Mario widens his smile and carefully begins to gently press Luigi's head down as he does the same. Luigi, knowing what his brother intends, lets himself be guided without hesitation and closes his eyes for a second before their foreheads meet. The sigh they release, in unison, as if they had rehearsed it, is deep, intense, and reflects all the peace and serenity that this touch makes them both feel.

“And I for you, Lu,” Mario answers in a soft whisper.

When, seconds later, they raise their heads, they give each other one last smile, as full of love as all the smiles they’ve shared since the day they were born. Mario caresses his cheek while Luigi gives him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, and then he softly gasps when, suddenly, he remembers something.

“I almost forgot,” he says with a chuckle as he walks over to Mario’s bedside table.

He carefully takes the glass of milk in his hands and turns to his brother, who beams enthusiastically as he sees what Luigi is offering him.

“Thank you, Lu!” he exclaims, accepting the glass.

Luigi smiles, moved at the eagerness and speed with which Mario drinks the hot liquid. When he finally finishes it, he lets out a sigh of pleasure and Luigi covers his mouth to hold back a giggle, not only because of his brother's satisfied expression, but also because of the spot that glistens under his moustache. Mario looks at him with a raised eyebrow, though he laughs too, and Luigi reaches over to his nightstand for a napkin to wipe his brother's face. The latter lets him do it and they share a last moment of knowing laughter.

Luigi then takes the glass from his brother's hands and goes to the kitchen to wash it. Before leaving the bedroom, he hears Mario drop like a bundle on the mattress, and when he returns, as he expected, he finds him lying on top of the sheets any which way. With a giggle that is both amused and tender, Luigi comes to his side: he slowly pulls back the sheets from under Mario's body and carefully covers him with them. Mario, eyes closed, smiles and snuggles in, and Luigi gently tucks him in and places a kiss on his cheek.

“Good night, Mario,” he whispers. “Sleep well.”

Mario's smile widens and a deep sigh escapes from his lips. Luigi, hoping that his brother will indeed sleep well that night, gives him a gentle caress on his hair before turning off the radiator and heading, at last, to his own bed.

And just as he is about to turn off his lamp, the last light still on in the room, he hears a sleepy, exhausted voice coming from his brother's bed:

“Good night, Lulu.”

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