Chapter Text
Shanks pov
Shanks stared blandly at the tie his brother was handing him.
"Really," he deadpanned, not even bothering to make it a question.
"It's a black-tie event Mihawk organised to celebrate a merging with his associates, you can make an effort for once," Shamrock replied just as plainly.
The two Alphas were currently in the entrance of their shared penthouse, and as a matter of fact, probably should have left for the gala-party-celebration at least forty minutes ago. Shamrock had dressed up because he just loved dressing up and was always ready to use any occasion to put on fancy clothes, but Shanks was of the opinion their common best friend would realise that putting on black slacks, a black jacket, proper shoes and an ironed red shirt was already quite the effort for him.
Even if said ironed red shirt had the first two or three or five buttons undone, because Shanks liked to be able to breathe in his clothes, thank you very much.
"Sham. Shammy. My wonderful twin brother that I would die for any day of the week," Shanks replied teasingly. "The only people who can convince me to use a tie are mom for really tip top super fancy family events and pretty girls who feel a little kinky in the bedroom."
Shamrock stared at him blankly, then shrugged and threw the silky black tie on the nearest piece of furniture.
"When Hawkeyes makes a comment, I'll tell him I tried."
Shanks laughed at that, then looked at the scent blockers they left on the table near the entrance before they left and went for the elevator.
"It's not a scent-free event, right ?" the red-head asked, since he usually forgot that kind of details.
"Not to my knowledge," Shamrock hummed.
"Thank fuck," Shanks muttered in relief.
With him and Shamrock being both Alphas on top of having their scents almost perpetually mingled to some extent, scent blockers were a real pain in the ass and Shanks preferred to never use them. If only because he liked what a scent said about a person, how much easier they became to read, and how he could influence them with his own.
More than a few spies from other mafia gangs or Marines had spilled everything Shanks wanted to know from them just from being suffocated in his more aggressive campfire pheromones. And more than a few pretty Omegas had taken a glassy look just from being exposed long enough to the mixture of lighter campfire and sweet sake that the red-head could exude when he was in the right mood.
And of course, in Shanks' completely unbiased opinion, his scent combination was vastly superior to his twin's leather and steel combo, no matter what said twin claimed. The only thing they agreed on about their scents was that they were better than their dad's but nowhere near as great as their mom's.
They picked a car in the garage, or rather Shamrock did since he would be the designated driver that night. Letting his twin pick the black lamborghini instead of the bright red mazzerati Shanks preferred was a small price to pay for being able to get properly drunk at that party.
Concessions and compromises, yadda yadda.
They arrived to the hotel where the gala was celebrated and made their way in easily, Shanks whistling at the heavily decorated ballroom. He remembered one of Mihawk's associates was a gold guy through and through, and it definitely showed with all the sparkling chandeliers, champagne flute pyramids, and overall very showy decoration.
Thankfully, they quickly found their best friend in the crowd, since Hawkeyes' red wine scent and perpetually somber attitude was easy to spot in this kind of setting, though the twins both grabbed something to drink on their way.
"Hey Mimi !" Shanks greeted cheerfully as soon as he saw the black hair, gold eyes, and grumpy expression. "We're here, the party can finally start !"
"The gala started an hour ago," their Warlord best friend replied plainly.
"Potato tomato," Shanks dismissed with a grin.
Mihawk's blank I'm-so-done-with-you-and-it's-only-been-five-seconds stare and Shamrock's painful how-are-we-even-related sigh only made him grin wider. Being a little shit was all the fun of these events, after all.
Before the red-head could push it, however, Mihawk's associates rolled in. One of them was a black-haired guy with a cigar and definitely the one with the taste for gold and opulence, the other was a very nervous mess Shanks knew already.
"Buggybugs !" the red-head grinned. "How're you doing ?"
"You asshole, did you come here to make fun of me !?" the blue-haired Beta shrieked. "Do you think I forgot-"
"Buggy," the other man stopped him just before it was going to become really fun.
Crocodile, Alpha, Warlord too, scent of sand and perhaps smoke unless it's the cigar. Confident but clearly briefed by Mihawk about us. Smart and shrewd. Not to underestimate but not a threat either.
"Congratulation on the merging, Sir Crocodile," Shamrock nodded and extanded a hand.
"Thank you. I heard the two of you have proven yourselves worthy of Lord Figarland's trust already in the business world, it's an honour to have you attend this gala," the guy replied with a calculating look as he shook it.
With a prosthetic hand that Shanks had heard rumours was exchanged for a golden hook when the Alpha was doing less Marine-approved business. Probably unpractical but very intimidating for small fry.
"We couldn't not be there for Mimi's big day," Shanks winked.
"You were still late and without a tie for a black-tie event," his best friend stated, though Shanks could tell that Mihawk was the tiniest bit relieved that he had made an effort.
"I tried," Shammy sighed. "But my brother is a lost cause."
"Excuse you, I'm the most charming gentleman in attendance and my fashion sense is immaculate," the red-head protested with a laugh. "You're just jealous because I'm the only one who can pull off brown cargo pants with purple palm trees."
"You still have that abomination ?" Buggy grimaced. "Someone should've burned it."
"I did," his twin replied in a deadpan voice. "He got more."
Shanks grinned. His fashion sense was actually the one thing that had brought back some form of communication between him and his father after his return, since apparently, Garling had experimented with his style as well in his youth. His mother could grimace about it all she wanted, Shanks was of the opinion that his dad still had pulled it off well enough to put a ring on her, and that was one hell of a feat.
So regardless of how appalled his twin and mom could be, Shanks knew his old man did not truly mind as long as he made some effort for the rare events that really mattered.
As a matter of fact, his father had been the one to send him a box of cargo pants with clashing patterns and colours for Christmas ten years prior with a note that if he truly was his son, he would find a way to pull them off, but to never tell his brother and mother how he had gotten those clothes. That ridiculous secret between them had been the first stone of their repaired relationship.
Even to this day, that was how Shanks got most of his improbable clothes, and he never failed to notice the half-amused half-proud grin of his old man when he worn them whenever Shamrock and him went back to the family estate for a dinner.
"Talking about fashion," Crocodile intervened, "there is a remarkable designer here tonight who-"
The crash of glass breaking on the floor echoed behind them, and they all turned their heads right before a feminine voice spoke loudly.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, you're so transparent that I didn't notice your presence," a woman declared with heavy sarcasm and distaste.
Shanks could tell a catfight was about to start and he grinned. Pity there was no popcorn at this fancy reception.
"Damn it- Buggy !" Crocodile cursed. "You were supposed to keep miss Y/N on the other side of the ballroom !"
"I did !" his friend shrieked. "Not my fault people move !"
"Who ?" Shanks asked curiously.
Mihawk's associate moved through the crowd without replying, and since even his best friend looked slightly confused as well, they all followed, which came with the added bonus of having everyone part for them, as it often happened when Alphas – plus Buggy – moved in concert.
"Oh I couldn't possibly hold your patent clumsiness against you," a just as feminine and just as venomous voice replied. "Not everyone has the competence it takes to be graceful, after all."
"Clumsiness had nothing to do with it. You're just so bland and insipid that I merely believed you to be an actual ghost," the first one replied acidly.
The second woman gasped in outrage, but they arrived in the circle of people just before she could reply, and Shanks felt his eyebrows rise in surprise.
Two women were indeed facing each other with a broken glass on the floor in the short space between them. They were glaring fiercely at each other with pure fury in their eyes, but damn were they gorgeous.
Or rather, the pink-haired one dressed like a goth lolita princess was pretty, and the other one was the kind of woman Shanks would drool over for days on end. Stunning backless midnight blue dress flowing to her feet and showing a very decent amount of cleavage before going around her neck, half-bun allowing the rest of her hair to frame her face beautifully, just enough jewellery to add some shine to it, nice curves that had to belong to an Omega, even her frown and lips in a thin line looked like an invitation to smooth them out with a kiss.
"I'm gonna hit that," Shanks mumbled.
"Dibs on the one in blue," Shamrock whispered next to him.
"Nuh-uh, she's the one I want."
Before his twin could try something against this flawless defense, the women stepped toward each other.
"And you're so boring that I would rather watch water evaporate than talk to you !" the pink-haired one shouted.
"Well you can shove that water-"
"Ladies, if I may," Crocodile stepped forward and intervened.
Which was a brave thing to do because getting under the combined attention of those pissed gals was something Shanks would think twice about.
"Miss Perona, would you like to see whether your dress needs any cleaning ?" the Alpha suggested while lookin at the pink-haired one, then turned to the other. "And miss Y/N, would you mind stepping away from those shards of glass to let the staff clean it ? We wouldn't want anyone to be hurt tonight."
The women stared at him for a moment, then huffed haughtily and turned around basically at the same time while crossing their arms on their chest and walking away in opposite directions.
"Bugs, you can introduce us to her, right ?" Shanks grinned widely as the crowd began to scatter and Hawkeyes left for somewhere else in the ballroom.
"What !?" his friend exclaimed.
"The woman in blue, miss Y/N," Shamrock specified. "You are acquainted with her ?"
"Well I mean, yeah of course, kinda ?" Buggy stuttered. "I hired her once and-"
"She's an escort ?" Shanks jumped on the occasion instantly, because that would make things even easier.
"What !?" the Beta shrieked. "Of course not ! She's one of the best jewellery designers out there ! The kind of expert royal families ask to restore their crowns and billionaires commission to get engagement rings !"
Damn. Gorgeous, specialised in a very useful field, and successful to boot ? Shanks might be about to swoon. At the very least, he could feel the desire to claim and possess her rise in his chest.
"Perfect," Shamrock smirked. "Introduce us, will you ?"
"She's single, right ?" Shanks added, though he was sure no Alpha – or Beta – worth their salt would have let such a gorgeous Omega attend a gala on her own.
"As far as I know, yeah," Buggy grumbled, but moved to find her in the crowd. "Just don't bring up the stylist, I don't want her to be mad at me."
"Stylist ?"
"The pink-haired Omega from earlier. Her name's Perona and she's a fashion designer, top of her game too, the kind royal families and billionaires go to when they want wedding suits or coronation dresses. They're basically sworn enemies, inviting them to the same event is the guarantee they'll clash at some point," Buggy grimaced, then explained further like the ever-informed man he was. "Their feud is the flashy kind, no one knows for sure why they hate each other but I heard rumours about a high school art competition where they submitted the same thing and it was never proven who had stolen whose idea."
Two creative minds entering a competition and accusing each other to have copied their design did sound like a good base for the kind of heated exchange they had witnessed.
They finally arrived near a small group of women, though the one who interested Shanks had her gorgeous naked back to them and a new flute in her hand, the midnight blue fabric flowing on her like she was wearing water. They were still a bit too far for him to get a whiff of her scent given how many people were around, but the Alpha could still overhear the conversation going on.
"Ugh, the nerve of that bitch to talk to you like that !" a blond thing said.
"Really, how dare she ? She's just a glorified seamstress ! You make timeless works of art, miss Y/N !" another woman, brown-haired this time, added.
"And besides, who knows how she really got an invitation for tonight, hmm ?" another blonde added haughtily, one that Shanks remembered having seen during one of the New Year's Eve parties in the Figarland estate, possibly a member of the Roswald family. "An orphaned Omega like her, wearing that kind of dress… I wouldn't be surprised if Crocodile was ordering more than clothes from her, if you see what I mean. Omegas like her always spread their legs to make their way up in the world."
Shanks exchanged a glance with his twin. That was some nasty slander to spread about someone, and they were both acutely reminded of some of the worst insults their mother had received for years because she was both a beautiful Omega and from a far lower social status their father was.
And that meant this kind of attitude was a massive turn off.
"Surely I misunderstood," the woman in blue replied in a cold voice. "You did not seriously just imply to my face that an orphaned young female Omega with good looks can only reach success in life through sexual favours, did you ? Or that having Crocodile as a regular client of one's business automatically means he would receive said sexual favours in exchange for an invitation ?"
Oh ?
Shanks put a hand on Buggy's shoulder to stop him from entering the conversation, feeling curious to hear the rest of it. Besides, it was very satisfying to watch the bitchy girl pale.
"It's- but you're different, miss Y/N !"
"How so ?" she retorted, still coldly.
"You're- you're-"
"Let me make this cristal clear, miss Roswald," Y/N stated, confirming Shanks' intuition about the blonde's identity. "My relationship with Perona might be what it is, but I will never, ever, stoop so low as to use this kind of vile, outdated, and pathetic slander against her. The day I attempt to shame someone by using baseless assumptions regarding their sex life or secondary gender is the day I will consider having renounced to all dignity. Now if you'll excuse me."
A shocked silence fell on the group of women as the jewellery designer walked away with her head held high, and the red-haired Alpha could only watch her in awe.
"Aaaaand I'm in love," Shanks heard himself say with a beaming smile spreading his lips.
"That is a level of class I wasn't expecting," his brother murmured next to him, sounding equally delighted by this turn of event.
Now, to go and conquer this lovely and classy Omega.