Chapter Text
Shamrock and Shanks were twins, but that was about all they had in common. Shamrock was the serious, no-nonsense type who kept things neat, focused on school, and had his life together. Shanks, on the other hand, was... well, a mess. A charming mess, but a mess nonetheless.
Lately, Shamrock had started noticing things around the house that didn’t add up. A makeup brush on the bathroom sink. Black nail polish in the living room. A silver ring on the coffee table. The faint scent of a perfume that definitely wasn't his brother’s usual cheap cologne.
He didn’t say anything at first—maybe Shanks had a girlfriend he wasn’t mentioning? But then, he found the blue hairs. Long, electric blue strands kept appearing on the couch, on their laundry, and even in his own damn room.
So, naturally, he started teasing his brother.
—"Hey, Shanks, ‘bout time you introduce me to your girlfriend, don't you think?" Shamrock smirked, leaning against the kitchen counter one afternoon.
Shanks, halfway through eating a sandwich, froze for half a second before brushing it off.
—“Nah, it’s nothing serious.”
Which, of course, only made Shamrock more curious.
The evidence kept piling up. A half-empty bottle of dark lipstick rolling under the TV stand. Silver hoop earrings tangled in their laundry. A hoodie that smelled like a mix of smoke and candy. Then, one night, Shamrock found something that actually made him pause.
Lashes.
A pair of thick, long fake eyelashes sitting on the bathroom counter.
Now, finding makeup was one thing, but this? This was commitment. This meant whoever Shanks was seeing had stayed over long enough to take their lashes off. And if someone was comfortable enough to shed their lashes in your home? They lived there now.
That was it. He needed to know.
The final straw was when Shamrock discovered lipstick stains on one of his favorite shirts—the one he had set aside for a special event. His irritation boiled over.
“Shanks, why are you using my clothes? This was for a special occasion! You’re going to pay for this.”
Shanks shrugged nonchalantly. “Relax, bro. It’s just a shirt.”
Frustrated and determined to uncover the truth, Shamrock decided to follow his brother. He needed to know who this mystery girl was and why she was leaving traces all over their home—and his wardrobe.
The next day, he trailed Shanks through town. At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Shanks hung out with his usual group of friends at the park, grabbed snacks at the corner store, and wandered aimlessly. Just as Shamrock was about to give up, he noticed Shanks slipping into a drugstore. Moments later, Shanks emerged, discreetly pocketing a small box. Shamrock’s eyes narrowed as he recognized the packaging—condoms.
His curiosity now piqued to the maximum, Shamrock continued his surveillance as Shanks headed home. To his surprise, Shanks went straight to Shamrock’s own room. Peering through the slightly ajar door, Shamrock’s breath caught.
On his bed lay Shanks, tangled up with someone. But this wasn’t just any girl. She had a slim, athletic build and an irresistible charm. Her electric blue hair flowed over broad shoulders, standing out against her pale skin. Smudged eyeliner gave her a smoky, alluring look, and multiple rings sparkled on her fingers. Fishnet stockings hugged her toned legs. But the most eye-catching detail? A clown nose.
Shamrock’s mind raced. The sensual curves and beauty had led him to expect a woman, but the reality was a mesmerizingly attractive man whose presence was both confusing and captivating.
Buggy sat up, the sheets slipping to reveal a pale chest and a confident smirk playing on his lips. His electric blue hair framed a face that was both delicate and sharp, eyes gleaming with mischief.
Shamrock stared, struggling to process the scene before him.
Where was the long-haired goddess he’d imagined? The soft, mysterious girl who left traces of perfume and lipstick around the house?
He looked at Buggy.
Buggy raised an eyebrow.
Shanks awkwardly scratched the back of his head. “he he he, I can explain”
Shamrock inhaled.
“…I have so many questions.” said rubbing the bridge of his nose and squishing his eyes shut..
Buggy’s smirk widened, his voice a low, alluring tone.“I’ve got time.”
….
To be continued
;9