Chapter Text
Mario stirred awake with a groan. He peered out the window and looked at the stars, then looked at the clock. 4:57 AM, Luigi’s going to be up soon. He groaned and forced himself out from under the covers, hoping to get coffee in his system before he had to listen to Luigi’s daily tangent.
He trudged to the kitchen, careful not to disturb his younger brother’s beauty sleep as he walked by his bedroom door. He headed over to the coffee machine and stared at it. He prepared it last night, so all he had to do was press a button and rich, steamy coffee came out.
He grabbed himself a mug and poured the cherished liquid in, as well as a bit of creamer. Just as he was about to bring it to his lips, he heard someone stomp into the kitchen.
“MARIO! DID YOU SCOOP UP MY NEST LAST NIGHT?”
Here we go.
“I told you to stop destroying them! Do you know how long it takes to make them?”
“Five minutes.” The older brother took a sip of his coffee, even though he couldn't enjoy it as much as he wanted to. “It’s just a pile of blankets and my hoodies.”
He gasped and placed a hand on his chest dramatically. “FIVE MINUTES!? More like five HOURS! I need to make it just right or else I will blow up and DIE!”
Mario simply nodded, he’s too tired to argue.
“Do you know how hard it is to be me, Mario?”
“You tell me every day, bro.”
“No, really do you KNOW!?”
Mario sighed and took another sip.
Luigi plopped down at the table, his chair almost tipping over from the force. “Of course not, you’re the big strong alpha that’s absolutely perfect! Oh look at Mario, he’s so strong and knows exactly what to do!” He ran his hand through his messy hair, causing some of it to fall into his face. “Meanwhile every time I go out in public I get treated like a soft, delicate flower that will DIE if you breathe too hard!”
Mario sat down across from the ranting man. “Luigi… you would die.”
He gasped again. “Excuse me!? I would not!”
“You cried because a moth flew by you the other day.”
Luigi pouted and crossed his arms. “It was scary… and really close.”
Mario smirked. “It was 6 feet away and was the size of a pea.”
He flung his arms in the air. “Okay then Mr. Know-It-All! Did you know that I’m able to snap a wrench in half? With ONE hand?”
The older brother nodded. “Watched you do it.” He took another sip of his coffee.
“Well other people don’t! They probably think I knit scarves in my free time!” Luigi got up to pace. “I mean, I do, but that’s not important! What I’m saying is that I’m tired of being seen as weak.”
He reached out and grabbed onto Luigi’s arm, causing the green plumber to stop and stare at him. “Luigi, you’re not weak. You’re a coward and a crybaby, but you’re not weak.”
Luigi’s stern expression softened for a second, then he scowled. “I’m going to ignore that second part.” He went over to the stove. “Anyways, you want an omelet or did you already make yourself something?” Luigi grabbed a bowl and set it down on the counter.
“You already know I didn’t make myself jack shit.” He got up and set the now empty mug next to the sink. “My cooking isn’t as good as yours anyways.”
He gestured at Mario to get him the ingredients from the fridge with a spatula. “First you insult me, now you compliment my cooking?” He took the egg carton from Mario with a small chirp and cracked a couple eggs open. “You’re lucky we’re brothers or else I’d be beating you upside the head with a pan.”
Mario chuckled and set the sliced cheese and lunch meat next to the bowl. “You’d do it anyway, you feisty chihuahua of a man.”
THUNK!
“Yeouch!” Mario rubbed the top of his head. “See!?”
Luigi grinned as he tore up a slice of cheese and dropped it into the egg and meat mixture. “I guess so. Turn the stove on.”
Mario did what he was told, not out of fear of being hit again, but because he really… really didn’t want to hear Luigi complain again about how omegas have to do everything.
The brothers stared at the pan like they were going to heat it with their minds. They looked at each other, then back at the pan.
Mario tapped his foot impatiently as Luigi poured the slime on the hot metal. “How long does it even take to make an omelet?”
Luigi sighed. “We go through this every day, I do 5 minutes on each side. Go make yourself toast to munch on while you wait.”
“But I want it noooooowwww!” Mario whined. He even stomped his feet for good measure.
Luigi snickered, then let out a full blown laugh. “How old are you, two?” He put two slices of bread into the nearby toaster and pushed the knob down.
“I’m 26”
“I- Mario you…” Luigi sighs. “It was a rhetorical question, you oaf.” He jabbed the semi-cooked concoction with his spatula.
Mario grumbled. Luigi snickered again.
After what felt like decades for poor ol’ Mario, breakfast was ready. He insisted on cutting the omelet and toast in half, despite Luigi’s protests.
“You’re holding the knife upside down.” Luigi snarked. “Just let me do it!”
Mario let out a small growl and rotated the knife. “I don’t trust you with sharp objects.”
The omega scoffed. “I’m clearly better at handling them.”
Mario growled again as he struggled to cut the slice of toast.
Luigi simply watched, amused by his brother’s inability to do such a monumental task with no help. “Are you sure you don’t want help?”
“I’m sure.”
“You’re struggling to cut cooked bread, Mario. Bread.” Luigi snatched the knife from his brother and effortlessly sliced it in half. “It’s not that hard.”
Mario went to protest, but was interrupted by a mouthful of egg.
“Shut up and eat, you need to get ready for work soon.” Luigi prepared his own plate, then sat down with it at the table and slowly nibbled on his toast.
The older brother looked down at his own meal, upset that he wasn’t able to help his dear brother make it. He jammed another forkful of his omelet into his mouth, hoping that the feeling of helplessness would go away soon.