"…and then you move the rame like this! Back and forth and back and forth! See! It's easy!" Feliciano laughs brightly and frolics around at the rear of the gondola as if he were dancing, making the fucking boat rock and crash into the canal wall and oh God they are going to die!

"I'll haunt you, I'll fucking haunt you!" Lovino threatens in a very manly voice because he is damn well not whimpering, make no mistake there.

That earns him a giggle from the oar-wielding sadistic demon who has replaced his sweet little brother. He joins Lovino in the passenger section of the gondola and thrusts the huge oar at him. "It's your turn now!"

He stares at Feliciano, stares at the oar and stares at Feliciano again. Hm. He crosses his arms in front of his chest. "No fucking way."

The pout, the wobbly bottom lip… It's a bit sickening to watch.

"Please? Please please please please please? I'll make you extra special yummy pasta tonight!" He pauses to take a deep breath and raises a finger. "I'll make you spaghetti alla marinara!

Lovino ups the glare by several hundred percent. "What part of no don't you get?"

Feliciano gapes at him stupidly for another long moment and then, surprise of all surprises, he actually gets it. Lovino can see it in the way his shoulders slump, his eyes dull and even the stupid curl droops. "I understand. I'm sorry. I just wanted…" He cuts himself off, biting down on his bottom lip. He's blinking an awful lot, too.

Under any other circumstances Lovino would snort and compliment him on his acting skills, except he gets the feeling that Feliciano isn't acting. He is a crap actor anyway. "You're pathetic!"

"I'd just wanted to teach you something I'm good at," Feliciano whispers.

Lovino huffs because that's just plain ridiculous, perfect little Veneziano is better than him at everything. Except they both know that perfect little Veneziano is also dumb little Veneziano whose grand achievement of the 20th century was to learn to tie his own shoes…

"It looks stupid," he insists; yet he knows that's a lame excuse, Feliciano makes breathing look stupid.

His brother peers at him from underneath long lashes with a newly kindled spark of hope gleaming in his eyes. "I think you would be really good at it! You're good with boats. We both are."

Lovino uncrosses his arms and crosses them the other way, he averts his face. The water is far more interesting than his brother's face anyway. "I'm going to look like a fucking clown… and I'll lose my balance."

"I'll hold you," Feliciano offers without missing a beat.

What he does miss is the fact that Lovino's face turns bright red. What maritime nation needs to be held by his baby brother when he's rowing a pathetic little boat? He has never had a merchant fleet like Venice's but he was raised by the Spanish Empire. "I don't need your fucking help! I'm a better gondolier than you!"

Feliciano hums a noncommittal sound that Lovino is going to pretend signifies agreement. Then he tilts his head with comical slowness. "Ve~ does that mean you're going to try?"

He grumbles and spits curses and glares. Nevertheless Lovino joins Feliciano at the rear right of the gondola with no good grace at all and turns his glare on the oar as if it were his personal enemy. Which it just happens to be today, actually. "Get on with it," he huffs, "you're wasting my time!"

Feliciano giggles sweetly, rubs his cheek against Lovino's chest and beams at him. He performs the dumbest little hop-skip-twirl victory dance without ever rocking the boat or letting go of the oar. Lovino would hate to admit it, but he's impressed. "You only have an oar at one side, so you have to be really careful! Don't push the rame too hard at first. When you push, the boat drifts to one side, but when you move forward the boat straightens again." That said, Feliciano places his hands over his own, adjusting his grip on the oar gently. "Yes, yes, just like that! Now push."

Frustrated with Feliciano, himself and fucking Venice, Lovino pushes with all his strength.

The boat moves. Mostly sideways.

Lovino's legs move as well, they buckle.

It's only Feliciano's steadying grip on his waist that saves him from swallowing canal water while he's doing his very best to shout every single insult known in the Italian language.

"Gently!" the idiot chirps. "I said gently. Ve~ caress the water like you would caress a pretty woman!"

"What the fuck…?!" Lovino twists around in his embrace to shoot him an unimpressed glare, but Feliciano ruins all his hard work with a dazzling smile.

"Now you pull the rame back – slowly! No, don't pull it out of the water, this isn't a row boat. Feather it under the water."

Lovino dutifully follows the instructions, only for the oar to pop out of the curved forklike arm it is placed in, nearly pulling him from the boat when the full weight of the wooden oar suddenly jerks at him. "Fucking Venetian crap, who came up with this…"

Feliciano tuts sympathetically. "That happens to beginners all the time," he notes cheerfully. "Put it back in. You can use all your strength for this; you have to work against the waves, the tidal current and the weight of the rame. Careful! Don't knock yourself out!"

"I'm trying! I'm fucking trying, Feli!" The water's jerking at the stupid oar and the boat is drifting sideways and why the fuck did Feliciano think driving lessons on the Canale Grande would be a good idea? It's sheer seething resentment that gives Lovino the strength to haul the oar back into the fork. He peers over his shoulder at Feliciano, impressed in spite of his best efforts not to. How does he do it? He has arms like matchsticks.

"Again~!" Feliciano singsongs. "Gently!"

"As if I were caressing a woman," Lovino echoes mockingly.

Feliciano, oblivious to the mockery, laughs in delight and lets go of Lovino to clap his hands.

Lovino wobbles, suddenly insecure without Feliciano's steadying hold. Yet he quickly realizes it's easier to move if he doesn't have to be careful not to hit his brother with the oar or an elbow. He moves the rame back and forth tentatively, getting a feel for the currents tugging at the oar, for the waves lapping at the boat.

Feliciano does another little dance routine that sends the gondola swaying, but Lovino can feel himself regaining his sea legs more and more with every passing minute. "You're doing great! Let's drive a bit. Head straight down the canal towards the lagoon."

"Hmpf," Lovino grumbles, not-so-secretly pleased. The smug smirk is a dead giveaway and he knows it, but he can't be arsed to care. "Of course I'm doing great, idiot. I'm a maritime nation!" And just like that, the oar pops out of the fork. Lovino has got to give his brother credit for covering up his giggles with a coughing fit.

"Of course I'm doing great," he repeats once the oar is back in the fork and the gondola back in motion. His dignity remains slightly battered.

"Ve~!" Feliciano trills, gives him a pat on the shoulder and sprawls all over the seat.

Lovino's cheeks flush pink from pride that his brother trusts him to handle himself. "It's just like rowing a boat," he huffs and ignores his brother's outraged protests.

Considering these are Feliciano's people, it doesn't surprise Lovino at all that there seem to be absolutely no rules on Venice's waterways. What he wouldn't give for the potato bastard's anal-retentiveness just this once… Gondolas drive on the right, on the left, in the middle, squeeze in between other gondolas and are all around intimidating, especially the speed demon water taxis.

Not that he would ever admit his fear, but Lovino doesn't want to be ground into a clump of human pulp and sawdust, thank you very much. God damn it, he's actually starting to have fun, too – which is yet another humiliating secret he wouldn't admit on pain of death.

Feliciano's head had been dangling over the edge of the gondola, now it jerks up to flash his brother an insulted look. He's not letting this one go. "Gondolas are better than rowing boats!"

"Are not," slips out before Lovino can stop himself. He scowls, annoyed with himself. So much for being mature.

"Are too~! Gondolas are romantic!"

So maybe he had been the tiniest bit distracted by the banter, but that huge fancy tourist gondola appears right in front of him from thin air. From thin air!

Nobody told him where the brakes are.

"Where are the fucking brakes?!" he yells as he starts paddling backwards frantically, which just sends the gondola into a frantic 360 degrees spin. Lovino can feel his heart suddenly beating a mile a minute as cold sweat breaks out on his forehead. His ten meters long monstrosity is utterly out of control and the rear is guaranteed to ram the tourist boat.

Pop…

The oar jumps out of the fork as if it's trying to abandon the ship, jerking Lovino in one direction while the spinning boat pulls him into the other one.

Then Lovino is suddenly the one abandoning the ship… headfirst.

His last thought before the shock of plunging into the water rids him of all coherent thoughts is that he's going to kill his brother.

To be continued...