I don't own Hetalia! End/AN/

"If I had an extra nose, that would make me the happiest."

There had been a lot of things Moldova had said that had caused Romania to do a double take. One was the time he wished he could live in an acorn. Another time had been when he'd proposed that they try using plastic bags to jump off of the roof of the house and fly.

But this seemed to take the cake. He looked at Moldova amusedly, saying, "Okay, I give up. Why?"

Moldova started to chew on a finger, obscuring what he said until Romania took the finger away. "…pies."

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch most of that. Repeat it?" Romania didn't get impatient with Moldova, generally speaking. It was hard to get impatient with someone you didn't see for a while and then you suddenly got reunited.

"I said, if I had two noses, then I could smell even more cakes, chickens, and pies." Moldova looked at him innocently, as though all those things really belonged in one group.

"You do mean cooked chickens, right? It'd be sort of strange if you went around smelling chickens," Romania said, poking Moldova. "But hey, what makes you think you'd smell more if you had two noses? Maybe you'd smell less."

"No, I'd smell more, double as much! I could smell like a dog!" Moldova said, sounding absolutely enchanted with the idea. He smiled, little fangs sticking out like the crooked little teeth they were. They weren't technically fangs, but that was how Romania liked to refer to them.

Romania grinned, grabbing Moldova's cheeks. "And you'd be such a good dog! We'd put you to work sniffing out drugs or something. And you could even have a dog treat if you do a good job!"

Moldova huffed, saying, "I wouldn't want a dog treat, I'd want a kid treat."

"Okay, kid treats it is." Romania pinched his cheeks, then let them go. "We could call you Nosenose. That would be a memorable nickname."

"Nosenose isn't a real name," Moldova pointed out, as though that was the most unlikely part of the whole scenario.

"Okay, okay, we wouldn't call you Nosenose. How about I just call you Mol?" Romania compromised, biting back a grin.

"I like that. That's my favorite nickname," Moldova confessed, leaning in closer to his sitting brother.

Romania seized him, pulling him into his lap and cuddling him close. "You know what, Mol? How about a kid treat?"

Moldova cheered, and clung tightly as Romania stood, holding him on his hip like a mother might hold her child. "I love treats! You're my favorite brother!"

Romania beamed, and walked over to the cabinet. There, he got out a cookie, and fed it to Moldova.

Being a brother was the most important thing in his life, he thought. He was lucky to have his brother back, whatever the circumstances.

/AN/ Just a little drabble based off of similar conversations I've had with my little brother. That kid comes up with the weirdest stuff, I swear… weirder than wanting a second nose. I'm feeling up to writing a lot today, so if y'all have any prompt ideas, send em my way, I just might write it!