Chapter Text
There was a lot to being a plumber in Brooklyn: days spent clearing sinks, fixin' pipes, making beat-up water heaters work again. Going around the same block you've seen a thousand times, looking for parking, grumbling as your ol' man would. Each day was honest work, and more so if you worked with the right people.
Mario and Luigi had been in the plumbing business for a long time—long enough that they got thrown into other worlds, and still chose plumbing. They could say they had really seen it all, especially now that they helped around the Smash Bros mansion. Different rooms, different people, different problems. A shower drain clogged with bananas (Diddy Kong's fault); a ring down a sink drain; and a puncture through a water tank that Ridley got mad at. Each day was a new adventure in plumbing, and this was on top of all the fighting and sparring they did. There was never a dull moment in the mansion.
You had to guess when Mario and Luigi took breaks, though. Sure, they had the occasional trip to the Seaside Kingdom, or back home to visit family; even to their favorite Italian place. Those were breaks, but that was all in the past. Today, they were busy, and the fatigue was starting to show. A slowed step, a yawn here or there, and a long, slow blink, which meant being zoned out. It started small at first, but over time it was noticeable.
"Mario..." Peach would start, tentative. "Maybe you should take a break."
"Luigi, too! They got you two working more than you should!" Daisy would pipe up, gloved hands flying to her hips.
Mario looked at Peach, then at Daisy, eyes flicking down in contemplation. It was a lot of work, but it was also something he had become used to, and liked. Though he could take a break if Peach asked him. He knew her and trusted her, second only to his brother.
"Maybe I should," he mumbled, rubbing his mustache. "Make a day of it," starting, "The beach, food, and then a good bubble bath at the end of the day!"
"That sounds wonderful!” Peach chirped.
"I'll make a fruit platter for the beach!" Daisy almost sang.
"Don't forget to bring sunscreen!” Luigi laughed sheepishly.
Now that was a good rest day, Mario thought. Time in the sun, a good meal, and a bubble bath to wrap it up. Mario could already imagine climbing into his nighty and lying down, pulling the covers up to his chin and falling asleep. Waking up to a relaxing adventure the next day.
beep....
beep....
BEEP!
Shrill beeps of an alarm clock. The taste of morning breath. Eyes barely able to open. A nostril clogged. Then, knocking: incessant and loud.
"Mario!"
"Luigi!"
Mario smacked his lips, brows furrowing as the morning breath really set in. He could taste the pesto pasta sauce from last night, even after he brushed his teeth three times. He opened his eyes, sight foggy, then closed them again.
Beep...
Beep...
Beep...
He lifted his hand and plopped it down on the alarm clock, silencing it. Letting the room be at peace for a moment.
"Mario! Are you in there?"
That didn't last long. It was Chrom at the door with a plumbing issue. Not a small one, either, but a big one that involved several rooms (or so Chrom says). Mario wouldn't know what the issue was directly until he got up. Sliding on his overalls, buttoning up his shirt, pulling on his socks, then shoes. The last thing was his hat, which he pulled down on his head. Now fully equipped to go and ready to assess the problem.
He grabbed his toolbox on the way and headed down to the basement, stairs creaking with each step. Everything got darker as he went down, easily remedied by the flick of a light switch. Bulbs flickered on one by one, revealing the old basement. Dusty, damp, and hadn't seen a day of cleaning since Brawl. Boxes stacked up high, tarps draped over old furniture, and filing cabinets. The thing he noticed the most was the sound of water; drip, drip, drip. Pipes stretched along the wall, coming to a central point at the far end of the basement; a large boiler. And the issue, he found, was with a worn seal. Worn down over time due to a valve not being set correctly. It would require a new seal, and a properly set valve. Something Mario could do quickly.
He grabbed a small screwdriver from his toolbox, placing it into the screw that held the pipe clamp together. The screw squeaking against the metal clamp with every twist. The clamp itself was rusty too, on the verge of snapping in half. When the screw came out, the clamp loosened, sending water spurting forth from the pipe, into his face. He shielded himself before scrambling down to his toolbox, looking for a new rubber seal and clamp. He really wished he had organized everything earlier, it would have made this so much easier. It took a bit to apply a rubber seal, then to add on the metal clamp. It only took that long because of the water, and he was soaked by the end of it. And the valve was no problem compared to what happened, no more than a simple shift to the left.
Once he was done, he'd put his tools away and picked up his toolbox. Looking at his handiwork one last time before turning to leave. Now that he was here, though, he felt he could do a little more than just fix the pipes; even though he was soaking wet. The boxes, the furniture, the filing cabinets; they could all be organized. The floor could be swept too. No big deal, just like the pipes. He pushed boxes into neat stacks and rows, dusted the furniture before putting them in a dry corner, and organized the filing cabinets. He'd sweep the floor too, dust kicking up everywhere. Making him wish he brought Luigi's Poltergust. That thing not only sucked up ghosts, but it could suck up so much dust without needing to be emptied.
Mario emerged from the basement, carrying his toolbox with a small slouch. Even covered in dust and cobwebs, and soaking wet, he went to each and every person who was affected by the plumbing issue. Making sure that everything worked, and that they were content. The people were his first priority, and he'd make sure they knew that. He only hoped after that, he could quickly freshen up, and get to the beach. He was ready to lay in the sun, eat fruit, and play in the water. The idea slowly got further and further away, however, as he was pulled into other tasks and errands. Everyone looked to him to help, and he didn't object.
He helped someone fix their sink, remove hair from a shower drain, and even taught someone how to use their Keurig. Mario sure could have gone for a cup of coffee, or anything to eat or drink. He never got the chance to grab anything after Chrom knocked on his door. Maybe he'd stop by the kitchen on the way to the next little job and get something. A piece of toast, an apple, or a yogurt from the fridge. Something to hold him over for the next little while.
“Mariooooo!” Luigi called from down the hall, making his way over.
Luigi shuffled over to him in an outfit ready for the beach. It consisted of: a Hawaiian shirt, shorts, flipflops and sunglasses. Even a little towel hung from his neck.
“You-a ready for the beach?” Luigi smiled, patting his brother's shoulder. Smile fading as he quickly noticed the look on Mario's face. A look that told him ‘I have to cancel, and I'm sorry’, body language showing embarrassment and shame.
He took off his sunglasses and held his hand on Mario's shoulder.
“Mario? Tell me whats-a wrong.”
Mario looked up at Luigi, a tired look on his face. If the shame wasn't apparent, the tears beginning to brim at his waterline were.
“I'm sorry, Luigi; I just don't think I can-a make it today,” Mario murmured, looking down. As if saying the words weighed too heavily on him. “There's just a lot I need to do around here.”
“Oh Mario— of course there is. There will always be-a work to do,” Luigi said, very matter-of-fact. “But you don't always have to get to it right away. I know you feel this pressure to do everything, and to do it-a right, but you're pushing yourself too far. Come on, take a break, things will be fine if you leave for a few hours.”
Mario's mouth opened, then closed, phone buzzing in his pocket. More messages from people in the mansion; a favor here; a request there. More things he needed to do, but not if Luigi had to say anything about it. He snatched up Mario's phone, putting it in his pocket.
“I'll-a take care of that,” Luigi said, a smile returning to his face. “Let's just relax, no beach. You look like you need something else anyways.”
He gently put both hands on Mario's shoulders now, guiding him back to their room.
Bubbles floated around the room, drifting lazily from side to side. The bubbles' iridescent surface catching the light in the dim bathroom. Mario sunk into the bubbles, letting the warmth set in. Lathering soap in his hair, smoothing it up into a mohawk; then horns; then spikes. Shaping his mustache into curls, a chuckle rising from him. He can't remember the last time he did this; take a hot bath; not check his phone.
It was nice.
Lunch was late, but that was okay; Luigi made a large amount of dishes for them to sample from. Lasagna, caesar salad, garlic bread, ravioli, pastina, and the classic spaghetti and meatballs. The whole room smelled amazing, tomatoey, meaty, cheesy. It was honestly impressive that Luigi made everything, and he (Mario) was not going to pass up on any of them. He grabbed the biggest bowl they had, a big metal one. Then he took a large scoop from each dish, piling it all in there. Giving it a big stir, much to Luigi's horror.
“What— okay,” Luigi sighed, not even wanting to bother.
They ate and talked with each other, Luigi managing to get a few laughs out of Mario. Doing his best to make him feel better. Putting more in his bowl, getting him more water, and absolutely more napkins. Joking he'd need another bath with how messy he got.
“You make-a everything so good, I cannot help myself!” Mario laughs, wiping his mouth. “Thank you Luigi, I am-a glad to have you as my brother.”
Luigi smiled, not because of the thanks, because he was happy to be his brother too. “Of course, you aren’t so bad a brother yourself,” he huffs and lightly punches his shoulder.
After dinner, Mario and Luigi hunkered down on the couch, controllers in hand; ready to play some videogames. It might not have been the beach, but Mario and Luigi ended up having more fun than if they had gone. They played racing games, platformer games, and party games. Laughter ringing out through the room, hysterical, loud, but happy. Luigi had lost a party game so horrifically that Mario couldn’t stop laughing. Shoulders shaking, eyes tearing up, struggling to breathe right. Luigi would whack him with a pillow a few times to get him to calm down. Which made him laugh more.
“Mario! C’mon! Quit laughing and play-a the game!”
Mario would get back to the game, through giggles. Somewhat distracted as he kept thinking back to the party game. Giving Luigi the advantage to win; getting up and doing a victory dance. He’d do a little pose, then point at Mario.
“Want a rematch? Or are you-a gonna accept defeat?”
Mario would smile, tilting his head back, eyes on the ceiling. “I suppose I will-a accept defeat! Good match bro.” Eyes drifting back to him.
“I hope you didn’t let me-a win,” Luigi accuses, crossing his arms and sitting down.
“No no, you won fair and square, it’s my fault I got distracted.”
“Good!”
Luigi grabbed the TV remote, changing the channel so that they could watch a movie. Going back and forth on the kind of movie they’d watch. Nothing scary, nothing too serious, and nothing sad. They’d eventually settle on a comedy movie, keeping the good vibes going. A good way to enter the evening, and to settle down. They’d yawn, blink their eyes slowly, bodies sinking into the couch. Covering themselves with blankets, truly getting cozy. They only got halfway through the movie before falling asleep, snoring and completely relaxed. A perfect brothers night in.