in italics, usually mean they're saying it in italian. especially a whole phrase and all.

a/n: pointless brotherly interaction, no real purpose. implied spain/romano. feli and roma: their relationship is closer compared to real canon. this is just about family. so don't expect much.

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our thing

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From the look on Romano's face, Veneziano Italy could already guess what his older brother wanted to say. Another giveaway were the papers and the unassuming briefcase he carried in his hands. His lips quirked up in a whisper of a smile, uncharacteristic for the usually happy-go-lucky nation - as he subtly changed the way he sat, a trifle straighter, an edge in those nutty brown eyes.

"Ve, older brother," he greeted cheerfully, voice high and clear. Germany sat with shoulders tense and arms crossed while Japan inclined his head respectfully. Both of them were conversing about miscellanous things to catch up on old times; an activity they found themselves indulging quite frequently during breaks between conferences or in this case, free time when there weren't any pending disasters to handle. "Were you looking for me?"

"Feli." Romano's ever present slight frown deepened when he saw the company his younger brother was dancing attendance to. Just because that son of a bitch wasn't stringing his brother along in one of his schemes anymore didn't mean he had to like him. "What did I tell you about hanging 'round potato bastards?"

It was as if a script was being read. Feliciano chuckled, shaking his head. "I like them. And you should try to be nicer, Roma." His smile was fleeting. "You might just like them too."

"Fat chance. I want to talk to you," so get these bastards out, was what he would've said, if Feliciano wasn't going to pester him about calling his friends like that. Feli's smile widened, before turning to his companions.

"You don't mind, do you, Germany? Japan?"

Germany shook his head, while Japan started to push out of his chair quietly. "I was about to leave actually, there are some matters to attend to, so it's fine. It was nice catching up with you both; Kiku, Feliciano. Lovino."

"And I as well." Japan nodded at both of the brothers, before following Germany out of the room.

When the door closed, Feliciano laughed, genuinely amused at the petulant expression on his brother's face. "Ve, Roma. One of these days your childish attitude would be the death for the both of us. They aren't as bad as you think."

"Don't talk to me about being childish," Romano muttered, throwing the papers down on the table haphazardly, almost causing a good portion of them to tumble over the edge. Feli caught them as Romano busied himself by getting a chair from the opposite end of the room. "You have to stop hanging out with that lot, you hear? As good as still sucking on mama's tits. Next I would hear about you wanting to keep peace with everybody."

"And now you sound like Mama. You don't fool me, Roma, you like the quiet."

Romano snorted, conceeding. "Fine. It still doesn't stop me from missing the days of street brawls for rackets, the time when hats off executions were stylish - the women were women - and we got to blow some bastard's brains out for looking at one of our familigia's wives funny."

"Aw, Roma. You still do that," Feli placated distractedly, already leafing through the papers when Romano settled heavily on his chair, kicking aside the one Germany used previously. "And hats off are still stylish."

Romano snorted, popping his knuckles.

"Not really. It's gotten too messy these days, now we just do away with them by quiet sniping. I have to at least settle on getting off of Molotovs and the one or two bribes to relive the glory days, you understand."

"There was the cruise."

"You mean with Luca and his bitch? I had to teach some of the boys how to hold down a man properly while I cemented his feet. All this technology is making them useless, you can't even get a decent man who knows how to garotte - they think when they have guns and computers they're invincible."

"America was nice."

"America was nice," Romano agreed. "But thanks to him, and Coppola -"

"Please, brother, you liked Connie."

"She was a woman."

"You almost shot the movie screen when Sonny pulled up at the toll, we watched all three, and you liked the horse. They even have a game about it, do you know? Do you have a pen?" Feliciano asked, reaching out for the stationery when Romano held it out. "Thank you."

"Welcome. And I said that the horse was creative, not that I liked it."

"You tried it. That means you liked it."

"You mean the time with Clemenza?"

"He did a very good impersonation of Woltz," Feli said brightly.

Romano's twitching lips gave away a hint of a smile. "I wasn't trying to fuck with the bastard's brain, I just wanted him to be a little freaked out, that's all. Not start screaming like a baby not able to suckle. Just look at the goddamn papers, Feli."

"I'm looking," Feliciano insisted, grinning when Romano scoffed, before jotting down a quick note on the list he was going through, and then circling a name. "Auri called me the other day. By the way, Luciano's stirring up some trouble up with Garcia." He passed Romano the paper.

The older of the two scanned Feli's notes before nodding. "I'll teach him a lesson, that boy's been giving me shit since the day he turned Capo in the Cazale. Cross him out. How's Auri?"

"Doing well. He's got a baby girl; she looks like she's going to break hearts in the future. Her name is Anna. He's now dealing firearms with the Raikovs but they're giving him a hard time. I heard that the Raikov junior just harassed Bella the other day."

Romano hissed, cracking a knuckle again. "What the fuck is up with good for nothing pussies and a good man's wife? Do they want me to rip them new ones and make them swallow their -"

"Call Ivan. He'll deal with it. Doesn't he owe you a favour from that mess by Solntevskaya?"

"You call the vodka bastard, he likes you more than me."

"It's because I don't call him a bastard," Feli said promptly, tapping the pen against the table. "So was it Michel or Leo who got the two million last month?"

"I don't remember. The one who didn't piss me off in Sicily..."

"Leo it is then." The younger man made a note again, before flipping to the next page.

"Oh, Leo - I remember the sister. She loved the 1952 and the roses I sent -"

"That was you? She spent a great deal talking about this 'tall, dark and handsome' the whole night I dined with Leo and his family; though I have to wonder about the 'tall' in the description." Feli smiled impishly, and Romano knew that it was the kind of expression reserved for only the both of them and one or two others. It warmed Romano sometimes to see Feliciano like this, and he was about to smile back - before realising what Feli implied.

"You just said I was short."

"I didn't say that."

Romano rolled his eyes. "You might get off on fooling everybody you're the naive idiot who needs to be taken care of everyday of your life -"

"That's true."

"- and you're succeeding, but it's not working on me."

"I've been working so hard for that image," Veneziano whined, eyes never leaving the documents he checked. "I like being taken care of. And of course it doesn't work on you, Roma, you've known me your entire life. You highlighted Puzo's family?"

"Oh, they want that channeled to Florence," Romano said flippantly, waving a careless hand, "Don't care what you do with it, as long as it goes there. I considered it as a present for their ailing grandmama. She used to give me tips to improve that Alfredo sauce you like so much."

Feliciano hummed contentedly, and then frowned at the next page. "You know, this one - Vecchio - is recyling the money I'm recycling. I'm guessing the son's doing all the work, since I'm working through the father. Still, nothing's getting done if he's dirtying the money I'm trying to clean."

"Vecchio? Fuck. You want me to make a hit on him?"

"No, he's actually good at what he does. Though you should handle him instead of me," Feli joked, laughing. "So get to it before he starts acting up like a big fish... Though I doubt it, ve. I especially think that you would like him and I've seen him before; very charming man, tall, broad - with large, soft black curls on his head; quite dense at moments, but clever as a fox when he wants to be. He really likes tomatoes."

Romano scowled severely when a mental image of Spain popped up. "You ass. I like women."

"And dense handsome men. How is he?"

"He's fine," Romano grumbled, cheeks a dark pink. "Had dinner with him two nights ago. And I almost punched him over the table incident."

Feliciano smiled fondly at Romano's poorly hidden happiness. He made another motion with his hand, towards the paperwork. "Which means he was sweet. By the way, Ferrara is using the money very nicely. He's very glad for the investment and insists on thanking you. You should try his wines sometime - I'll have one around the house when you come over."

"Make sure the potato bastard's not there," Romano said sourly, making a mental note to ask about Vecchio later. "Are you done?"

"A bit more, I'm thinking about the assets going to Venice. There's also Turin - and Naples, but both of them just need a quick once-over since I already looked through it last week."

"Sure," Romano said, eyes straying towards the window to the scenery outside. How long have they been doing this? Not for very long, but it was as if they've done it since forever. The way his brother would pick up what he had in excess, recycling it for a better purpose; as he dealed in the underground with the bastards and the cocktails and the guns. It was natural, something passing easily, their lives.

He remembered the first bullets he shot through someone's head, remembered the days he travelled in hot rods with America and exchanged guns with Russia - the honour and the Family, the blood and the brutality, the shit you had to put up with and what it meant to be in the Mafia. He remembered the way Feli said it wasn't his thing, and it was okay, I'll clean it for you, Roma. You do what you do and I do what I will be good at.

Business was business, sure, but family was everything to keep it alive. And Feli turned out to be good at turning it good.

"I'm done," Feli said abruptly, startling Romano from his thoughts, and he gave a rare smile when Feliciano passed half of the papers back to him. He passed the briefcase to him afterwards, and Feli handled it as if he's been handling them for many, many years - opening it with a sleight of hand as if his fingers merely danced over the locks.

He inspected it carefully before smiling. The amount of money in the case would be enough to set up a lifetime or two.

"You just make sure your people don't mess up the transfers. Again."

"Like I told you the last time, that wasn't my fault. Milan never happened, you hear me?" Romano retorted without real heat, before smirking. "If my boys do mess up, though, it's okay. I've been needing good target practices, and you're coming with me this time -"

"Roma," Feliciano admonished, and Romano snorted inelegantly. Feli snapped the briefcase shut.

"No excuses. I need to beef you up from getting sissier. I told you, sooner or later you're gonna turn out like a fucking squid hanging out with those morons." Romano got up from his seat the same time Feli did, and they hugged each other, with Feliciano kissing his brother on the cheek. "I mean it," Romano continued when they separated, adding a light punch to his brother's shoulder.

Feliciano stuck out a tongue, rubbing the violated body part as he eased back into his usual childishness. "Stop bullying me."

"Don't let me see that potato bastard's face again in your house, then maybe I will." They were already halfway towards the door.

"Okay," Feli replied dutifully, before brightening up. "So are you coming over later?"

"Can't. There's some shit to settle at New York." Romano watched his brother nod at this, and moved to open the door. They walked together all the way towards where they were supposed to have their lunch, but Romano was only dropping off his brother there. There was America, and Russia, the potato bastards and dumb, dense idiots; at least from where he could see.

The morons noticed and were already making their way towards them. "I'll be back in two days, though."

"Stay safe, Roma. Germany! I didn't see you -"

"Stay the fuck away from him," he barked at Germany immediately, eyes narrowed, before glaring at Spain who smiled at him brilliantly.

"Where are you going, Romano? We've only just started to catch up..."

"I -"

"- am going to meet up with a nice young man named Vecchio, right big brother?" Feli interjected, with a curious - obviously faked, that bastard - and innocent - fakefakefake - look on his face, head tilted slightly to the side. Romano swore loudly, and it picked up in vulgarity when Spain suddenly blinked.

"Vecchio?"

"None of your business," Romano replied before his brother could get a word in edgewise; but Feli shrugged it aside anyway, in true Veneziano fashion.

"He's having dinner with him later, going to ask around about him. Right?"

"What the fuck - that's not -"

Spain's eyes narrowed immediately in a dangerous fashion, uncommon for the cheerful nation, giving them the glint of the days back when he was Imperio Español. "I've never heard about you going out to dinner with a man -- who's this Vecchio? Lovino."

"Fuck you, Feli, I'm going to cut open your stomach and shove a - it's no one important -- Spain!"

North Italy smiled innocently at Germany, while the blond shook his head. "What exactly is that about - wait. No. I don't think I want to know."

"- Romaaaaaaa -"

"- damn it you fucking bastard --"

"Ve," Feli said, then went off to the buffet table, securing his hold on the papers as he did, sliding the case out of view. "I think they'll be just fine. Let's eat, Germany, I'm hungry for some pasta."

"What are those papers for?"

Veneziano smiled. "Family business."

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a/n: just a mindless one shot i wrote a long time ago but i never posted it anywhere. anyway, time to explain a few things, but not all of it. you can ask about stuff you don't get.

i saw a request in the meme about n. italy having a mafia that cleans up the money from s. italy, so, this is basically what it's about. there's a shitload of references to a lot of things. feli was talking about the three godfather movies, the one about sonny and connie and everything. 'solntevskaya' is a russian mob, and supposedly one of the most dangerous in the world, if not the most dangerous.

the random italian names are names of random made-up mafiosi.

and it's apparently a freaking crime within the mafia to look at another mafioso's wife.

when they were talking about the 'horse', in the godfather, basically 'woltz' is a guy who pissed off the corleone's godkid. he got a present on his bed, which was his beloved's horse's severed head. also, generally; 'capo' (caporegime/capodecima) is like a captain to soldiers (basic mafiosi). basically a rank before the underboss and consigliere, which are below the don. for more details you can look 'em up yourself.

i gotta write a mafia fic about ivan, roma and alfred soon. i think it'll be cool.