Archive of Our Own

“Okay, now this one is fra diavolo,” Luigi guided the wooden spoon up to Bowser’s lips. The Koopa King sniffed it curiously and sneezed a puff of smoke. He went adorably cross-eyed trying to glare at the spoon. Luigi went on, “It’s similar to arrabiata, but we add white wine and more herbs so it goes better with seafood. My family also likes to make ours a touch spicier than the arrabiata, so-” he was cut off by happy slurping sounds. Bowser had lost patience.

“Now that’s got some zip to it!” Bowser smacked his chops in appreciation. “This one gets the fire-breather’s stamp of approval, Greenie!”

Luigi blushed and giggled. “Oh? Did we finally find something to dethrone the Calabrese?”

“GWAHAHA! In yer dreams! Spice is nice but nothin’ beats a mouthful of meat!” Luigi’s blush surpassed the sauce for redness. Bowser, whose entendres were rarely intended, lit up with an idea. “Hey, how about we use this as a base for Calabrese?”

“Tartaruga sciocco, I just told you this sauce is for-”

Bushes rustled outside the cottage. Luigi yelped and jumped with the saucepan still held in his hand. Half the sauce jumped with the green plumber. Half of it jumped further, splattering Bowser full in the face. He started in surprise and broke the chair he was squeezed into, falling on the floor with a thud.

“Sorry!” Luigi set the pan down and rushed forward with a cloth. Bowser wasn’t moving, just sitting in the wreckage of a chair with sauce dripping down his face. “Sorry! Sorry!”

The king took a deep breath, and waved him off, swiping the cloth for himself. He wiped his eyes and nose, then stuck his tongue out and licked up as much of the sauce as he could reach. “Yer lucky this stuff is so tasty,” he finally smiled at Luigi.

Luigi let out a breathless, relieved chuckle. “Sorry,” he winced when he realized he;d said it again. “I know I was the one who wanted to do this at my house, I’m just… nervous.”

Bowser rolled his eyes at his anxious boyfriend. “I told you, my new tail powerups are top-notch. Red won’t be back for a while. Goombash’s gonna make sure of that.”

“Still, I think, next time we do one of these, I’d like to do it at the castle.” He hesitated. "Uh, if that's alright?"

“You kidding? We’d love to have ya! Gourmet Guy says he’s finally got a meatball recipe that’ll show you up after last time. Won’t even let me try it until you approve. Hold on, though.” Something occurred to Bowser, and his expression went from amused to deadly serious. “If you make your family recipes at the castle, it’s not gonna taste as good. That’s what you said.”

Luigi snickered at the earnestness in his tone of voice. Bowser probably thought there was an actual deliciousifying spell at work. “I said they’d taste better if I could make them at home. And… I’ve been over to your place so many times, it already kinda feels like home, you know? I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Luigi…” Bowser’s eyes were tender for a moment, then cockiness reasserted itself. “Makin’ me blush over here, Greenie. Come on over and lemme lay a spicy kiss on ya.” He held out sauce-speckled arms. His face was a mask of red, even after wiping.

“Uh, no, that’s okay.” Luigi held up his hands and backed away slowly.

Too slowly. Bowser snagged him around the waist and pulled him in to plant a sloppy smooch on his cheek. He laughed and tried to push the enormous sticky face away, only to find a pushy snout nuzzling into his chest. “Bowser, stoo~op! Heeheehee! C’mon, you’re staining my apron!”

“I’ll have a custom one made for you,” Bowser pushed past resistance to nibble Luigi’s ear. “With a funny saying on it. Whaddya think about ‘Protector of the King’s Paunch?” He moved his lips to Luigi’s neck and breathed out before closing the gap, knowing it was a ticklish spot. As Luigi’s protests disintegrated into peals of laughter, he let the tip of his tongue graze under his jawline.

They were so preoccupied they didn’t hear the door open, but they heard it shut. Mario’s voice rang out, “Hey Lu! Turns out it was a false alarm, some Goomba with a spiked Tanooki tail that didn’t even have-” He turned after kicking his shoes off, to see his brother, frozen in Bowser’s arms, with sauce smeared all over the two of them.

Nobody spoke or moved for what felt like hours. Bowser finally remembered to tuck his tongue back into his mouth, which in turn brought Luigi back.

“Mario!” he shouted, “It’s… it’s not what you think!”

“Yeah, it’s better,” Bowser said.

“Shhzzt!” Luigi made a panic noise through clenched teeth and tried to stand up.

Mario finally unfroze. “I fuckin’ knew it,” he said with a sigh.

“Look, I'm sorry, I swear it just- Hold on, wha- you- bro, when did you-”

“Look just… clean up after you’re done, I gotta go to the castle. I owe Peach some money.” Mario opened the door and walked out shaking his head. He didn't put his shoes back on.

The door closed on Bowser snickering as Luigi yelled futilely after his brother, “Wait! Mario! How did you KNOW!?”

Alone.

Why Luigi had thought this would be a good idea was beyond him. If only he could resist those precious, pleading blue eyes.

The blue eyes glaring daggers from across the table were far less appealing to him. Nevertheless, Bowser tried. With an awkward grimace that could almost be mistaken for a smile, he raised the goblet at Mario like he hadn’t just upended it into his maw. “So… catch the latest race-?” 

“Howzabout we skip the playacting and just get to business? You don’t wanna spend a whole meal alone with me any more than I do with you.” It was the first thing he’d said since he arrived.

Bowser frowned. The pipsqueak wasn’t wrong, but- “Luigi wants us to at least try gettin’ along, Red, so-”

“Stop it!” Mario snapped. “Stop pretending you care what my brother wants!” He jumped up from his seat. “He fucking loves you, you piece of shit! He said he’d actually consider marrying you if you asked!” He spat the word “marrying” at Bowser like a particularly slimy shroom.

The king could only stare. They hadn’t said “I love you” yet. And he’d been so scared about falling into the fuck-ups of failures’ past and driving his perfect Green Bean away that he hadn’t even joked about marriage yet.

Mario’s expression grew darker as Bowser struggled to catch up. “You don’t even care, do you? You don’t even care that he’s so head over heels for you he’d fucking pack up and shack up with you tomorrow.”

Bowser‘s eyes dilated and a wisp of excited white smoke threaded from his nostrils. Would Luigi really move in with him? Should he ask, or better yet, DEMAND- “Gah!” He waved his arm, at Mario and the thoughts. “Quit tricking me into doing something I’ll regret, you sabotcher! I ain’t making a single move until Luigi tells me all this himself-” Hold on. Bowser finally finished processing the rest of Mario’s words. Did he actually think Bowser wasn’t serious about Luigi?

“I’m gonna warn you one last time, you stupid turtle,” he hopped up onto the long table and approached Bowser at eye level. “Drop. The act. And tell me. What you want.”

“What I- top of the list is you gettin’ your fucking filthy shoes off my tablecloth, you red menace!” Bowser was almost too offended to get angry. “Where the hell is this coming from? I’ve been dating your brother for six months! You think I’ve got the patience to play nice with someone I don’t actually like for that long?”

“You’ve been obsessed with my girlfriend longer than I’ve known her, so yes, I very much fuckin’ do think you’ve got the patience to put up with my brother for six months!”

“WHY WOULD YOU EVEN BRING HER-” Bowser stopped, took a deep breath and lightly prodded his knuckle into his forehead three times. Luigi, he thought. Luigi, Luigi. He opened his eyes and just managed to let his breath out as a sigh, rather than a growl. It was difficult. Something about this was wrong. Something was bugging him about the way Mario was talking. It was hard to pinpoint because everything the little pimple did was annoying by default.

Speaking of Mario, he was almost at his side of the table. Bowser faced him and said, as calmly as he could,“this is not about Peach.”

“What else could it be about!” Mario threw up his hands. “Is it me!? Are you doing this just to piss me off?”

Bowser’s jaw dropped. “Wha- get over yourself, shorty! All this is ‘about’ is Luigi. WHAT is so hard to believe about that!? There’s no secret evil plan! I am with your brother because I WANT to be with him, end of story!”

“WHY!? What do you get out of it!?” Mario practically screamed it into Bowser’s face.

“I- huh?” Bowser frowned. The answer to that question was so obvious it didn’t bear asking, why was Mario…

“You heard me!” he yelled. Some spittle hit Bowser’s cheek. Bowser ignored it. He was thinking.

Mario had accused him of “putting up” with Luigi. This whole time, he’d been so adamant that Bowser must have an ulterior motive. He must be after something else. 

As though Luigi wasn’t even worth considering.

Bowser started growling. He rose from his seat to loom over Mario once more. The plumber backed up a step and took a fighting stance.

Quiet, Bowser told himself. Relaxed. He’s expecting loud, he’s expecting angry.

I can do ‘quiet’ at least.

He took a quick, deep breath, and let it out. “Y’know,” he tried hard to turn his growl into a rough purr, “A lotta things suddenly make sense about how your brother acts.”

Quiet worked. Mario was put off guard for a second. He caught himself quickly and resumed his stance. Raising an eyebrow he barked, “What are you talking about now?”

“You know what I’m talkin’ about. The way Luigi walks around all scared and anxious, like he doesn’t know what a strong dude he is. How he acts like he has to apologize for takin’ up space. Like he has to constantly justify existing.” The red man’s other eyebrow slowly crawled up his forehead.

Bower huffed, “I know there’s a lotta jerk Toads givin’ him grief, but there’s not much you can do about that. Morons are morons. It took me years to see what he’s worth, after all.” Mario harrumphed, Bowser ignored him. “But that’s not the real problem, izzit?” He bared his teeth. “The real problem is that his own brother doesn’t know how much he’s worth.”

“What!” Mario sputtered. 

“You heard me!” Bowser snarled. “You seriously have to ask what I get out of this? I get Luigi. I get the cutest, smartest, bravest, sweetest man in the whole damned world to smile at me like I deserve it. When I want to burn the world to the ground, he knows just what to say to make me laugh. He cooks my family delicious food and he cares for my kids like he laid them himself. He can take apart an airship engine and rebuild it in a coupla hours and I cannot… tell you… how sexy that is.” Bowser grinned at the face Mario pulled at that. “He’s the best.”

The grin fell abruptly. “And ya know what? No matter how many times I say all this to him, no matter how many times I try to tell him how amazing he is, he has never once thanked me like he believes what I’m sayin’. Now I know why. Because you’ve never told him how amazing he is.”

“You aren’t gonna turn this around on me…!” Mario exclaimed, though he looked troubled. “I love my brother!”

Bowser shot back without missing a beat, “Then why is it so damn hard for you to believe that someone else could?”

“I- You- He-” Mario’s gaze hardened. “Because it’s not “someone.” It’s you. And you proved a long time ago that you don’t know how to love like normal people do.” Mario lowered his head and bent at the knees a little. Getting ready to dodge.

It was so obvious, and Bowser still had to bite back flames. The despised hat was almost lost in the red rage clouding his vision. He wanted, more than almost anything he wanted, to bring his fists down on the table and start the boss music.

He didn’t. He took a deep breath, and he let it out, and all that anger gave way to tiredness. “Not tonight,” he told the wild-eyed man. “You don’t get to be right about anything tonight.” He turned and started walking away. “Get outta my castle. I’m not feeding you.”

Mario watched him go, breathing hard, still tensed for battle.

—

Luigi was only a few chapters into his first pulp novel of the evening when the door to the cottage opened. “Hey, that was longer than I thought it’d be!” he called out cheerfully. He carefully placed the bookmark he’d been fiddling with for the past half hour or so and set the book aside. “Did you actually manage to get through a course without starting something?”  He swiveled to face his brother with a smile. “No food stains on the clothes, that’s a good si- Mario? Is something wrong?”

Mario’s eyes, staring at some distant galaxy, slowly refocused. The thoughtful frown on his face grew deeper. “Luigi…” he hesitated. “You… you know I love you, right?”

“Wha-” Luigi gaped at Mario. Of all the things he’d been expecting, that wasn’t even on the list. He tried to recover, scratched the back of his head with an confused laugh. “Uh… haha, yeah, bro. Obviously I know that. I love you too.”

“I just… I don’t say it a lot, so…”

“I mean, you don’t never say it.”

“Yeah, but still…”

Luigi frowned. Did something happen at dinner? Had Mario even gone to dinner in the first place? He knew Mario had his doubts about Bowser, but- he put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You know… Bowser hasn’t said it to me, either. ‘I love you,’ I mean. I think he’s deliberately going slow to make up for… uh, past, mistakes. But I still know how he feels, because he’s got plenty of other ways to say it. You should hear some of the crazy compliments he comes up with.” Luigi sighed and looked away, grin and blush growing on his face. “Heh, I dunno why he gasses me up so much, but… it is kinda nice, you know? Getting the hero treatment. I don’t know how you don't let it go to your head, haha!"

Mario’s jaw clenched. His breathing was ragged and his eyes grew red and watery. “I’m sorry Luigi,” came out as a choked whimper.

“Mario? Fratello mio, please, tell me what’s wrong- oof!” Luigi was tackled into a hug. His brother’s arms clutched at his back as he collapsed against his chest and sobbed bitterly.

“I’m so, so sorry, Luiigiii!”