Luciano stomped up the stairs of the Southern Italian house grumbling. His clothes blood stained and his knife practically red. He stomped into his brother’s unlocked house, leaving a trail of blood and dirt on the clean carpet. He ignored his brother’s call for him to wash his hands before he touched anything. He dropped his bloodied knife on the coffee table in front of the blond.
The light haired Italian cringed at the dirtied thing and turned to look at the younger who was in the kitchen searching through the fridge for something, “The wine is where is always is.” He called picked the knife up with a napkin his face screwed in disgust.
“Why do you think I always want to get drunk?” Luciano called from where we was; grabbing the bottle of wine. Flavio threw the knife into the sink and started to scrub the stain from his table.
“Because you always do,” he stated wiping his forehead satisfied that the stain was out.
Luciano slightly pouted to himself taking some leftover pasta and putting it into the microwave, “No I don’t.”
“Please don’t drink more than five bottles this time. I don’t want to deal with your drunken self.”
“Shut up you don’t rule my life!” He practically yelled.
Flavio looked at the bloodied, dirt trial is brother had made and pursed him lips unhappily walking into the kitchen, “Take off your shoes…”
“No, they’re fine where they are,” the younger teased earned a comical, kind of ugly, squinted glare from Flavio making the other snort trying to hold back laughter. “What are you doing? You look like you smelt something terrible.”
He older nation crossed his arms, “I have smelt something terrible, your manners have a horrible smell; of dirt and dried blood.”
Luciano frowned as her took his food from the microwave and did a mock bow his voice filling with sarcasm as he remarked in a snide tone, “I’m sorry, your highness~”
The older nation just blinks and brushes it off and gives a small, forced smile, “You test my hospitality, dearest fratellino~.” Luciano only smirks and sits on his brother’s kitchen counter.
“I have no idea what you mean,” he gets a fork and swirls the pasta, “I am being a respectful guest as always.” His smirk grows into a smile as he takes a bite. He watches his older brother as he eats calmly; seeing the tell-tale signs that he is annoyed.
“How considerate of you,” came the bitter remark, “Would you prefer a chair?” His brother eyed him behind his sunglasses. Luciano just shook his head no, keeping his bitter smile. Flavio forced a grin onto his face, “Of course…now I think I have to go call a carpet cleaner, and some maids,…or a guard dog.”
Luciano grinned taking his last bite, “Sounds good, you do that.” He kicks off his boot and watches them slide across the tiled floor of the kitchen leaving a streak of brown and red. Flavio quickly picks them up and rushes them outside, holding them arm length.
Luciano watched, swinging his legs back and forth lazily as he threw the empty container and fork into the sink beside him.
He brother promptly entered shortly after, still with a strained smile. “As much as I lover your visits, Luciano –trust me I do- why are you here?” He giggled slightly in a strained way. His hands folded in a praying motion as he leaning towards his younger brother.
The younger frowned in mock hurt, “What can’t I visit my dear fratello?” He chuckled before his face got serious. “Fine, I need a place to stay 'till Al stops chasing me down. I would usually fight him but I don't feel like getting my house blown up like the last time,” he remarked as he hopped down from his seat on the counter.
Flavio moved to the counter and drummed his fingers on it, “And what makes you think he won’t check here?” He inclined; tilting his head slightly in curiosity.
“He won’t check here because he thinks I hate your guts…or that you are dead and someone else owns the house.”
“And what did you do to the American, Fratellino?”
“I didn’t do anything that concerns you,” he crosses his arms and frowns, “So…”
The blond hums in thought before looking at the other Italian, “Fine, you can stay this once. Just remember Fratello loves you.” He smirks seeing the blush rise on this brother’s neck.
“I am not a baby, you don’t have to say that anymore,” he grumbles and looks away.
Flavio easily brushed off his baby brother’s words, “Since you're here, and... have blown off some steam, as judged by my ruined carpet, why don’t we do something? Like... oh I don't know... brothers?” He quirked a manicured eyebrow up at him expecting the rejection.
The younger shifts under this brother’s gaze, “…what did you have in mind exactly?”
A smirk grew on the blonde’s face, “So you are considering spending time with me? How wonderful~”
Luciano huffed and looked away, “Well I don’t want to be an ungrateful guest.”
Flavio smiled and clapped his hands together happily, “I have to admit, this is a pleasant change of mood,” he states as he stands to full height from where he was leaning against the counter. “So, considering you can't exactly leave without blowing your cover and/or bringing Al back here, I say we find you something nice- and not bloodstained- to wear, good to eat, and...,” he pauses and thinks, “hm…what else…”
His brother eyed him warily, “and what?”
“Well, this is the point where I'd normally offer to take whomever I was spending the day with shopping, as so they wouldn't look as bad in the future. But I don't want to test my luck with my dearest fratello~,” he said in a sing-song voice scooting closer to his brother. His brother only glared at him before sighing.
“Fine, I’ll change, the smell is starting to get to me anyway…and don’t dress me up like you…” he stated reluctantly. Flavio smiles widely and gestures towards the hallway.
“That way to the bathroom,” he chirps happily, “I’ll go find something for you to wear…neutral tones.” Get a grumbled fine, Flavio skipped off to his room and searched for clothes that weren’t so…Flavio.
The younger Italian had gone into the bathroom, snickered at hos girly it was before stripping down and getting in the shower so he could clean off the blood and dirt from his battle. He turned on the shower and got in letting the warm water take away the dirt and grime.