[Prompt] SHE SELLS SEASHELLS

Mahi has to admit, this is a bit of a guilty pleasure of his.

Normally, he’s too busy seated at the makeshift lifeguard chair – though thankfully he’s yet to have to leave it to help any bun in need – to even think about perusing the shoreline for goods, but he’s been explicitly asked to enjoy himself today.

It’s one of the last days of summer, and while he wouldn’t have cared otherwise, the some of the other beach buns have thrown up their arms and demanded he enjoy the beach for once. So here he is, walking down the shoreline, eyes fixed firmly on the sand beneath his feet.

Mahi’s never had the pleasure of shell hunting, though he’s always wished to partake. It always felt a little…mean to take shells from their natural habitat, but he supposes if others are doing it, and frequently¸ then surely there’s nothing wrong if he takes a few for himself, too.

“Shouldn’t you, actually, you know, be picking shells instead of just staring at the sand really hard? There isn’t even shells here, bro.”

Mahi jumps, surprised, whirling around to stare at his brother. His brother has a shit-eating grin on his face, obviously pleased for catching him off guard.

“There’s a shell there, actually, dude,” Mahi replies, pointing to the conch shell that’s just buried beneath the sand. “Are you – are you sure we’re allowed to do this?”

Stryker rolls his eyes, though amusement still clings to his expression. “Why would we be allowed to do this? The sign even says to take as many shells as you see fit, just make sure there’s plenty to go around for others.”

“What sign?”

Stryker, who unlike Mahi is in his bun-form, tabs gently on one of his thighs to have him turn around behind him.

True to his brother’s word, there is a sign there, one that says ‘SHELLS FOR YOU SHELLS FOR ME SHELLS FOR EVERYONE! PLEASE SHELL RESPONSIBLY.’ Mahi has been at this beach every day for the last several months and has never once noticed the sign. He’d be embarrassed, but he stopped being embarrassed over his obliviousness long ago.

“Oh. So… there is,” he says, giving a small shrug. “Why are you here, again? Shouldn’t you be playing Bun Beachball by now?”

“Game got cancelled,” Stryker replies. “Too many shells on the shore.”

Mahi doesn’t think that sounds like a good enough reason to cease an entire game, but he’s not about to complain. Though a little shit through and through, he’ll never turn down the opportunity to spend time with his brother.

“Then you could join me, if you’d like,” he says.

Stryker snorts. “Yeah, bro, no offense but you need all the help you can get. We have to make sure you actually leave with some shells.”

His brother doesn’t give him a chance to reply before he’s using his hands as leverage to climb up his back and perch himself on one of his shoulders. Thankfully for his bro, Mahi never skips shoulder day. Buns are heavier than they look, for sure.

“Yes, Stryker, thank you for asking, I’d love to carry you around like this.”

“I knew you would,” Stryker replies, happy as a clam. He is practically radiating smugness but Mahi decides to let it go.

Instead of indulging in a bit of sibling bitterness – something they did far too often as youngsters, anyway – Mahi turns back to the vast expanse of sand in front of them and sets off in the direction he was originally going.

It doesn’t take long for Stryker to pull annoyingly at the fins by his ears, obnoxiously whistling in his ears as he does.

“Stop, my steed!”

“I will drop you, dude,” Mahi says, on instinct, but stops anyway.

“That’s a beautiful shell,” Stryker replies, seemingly ignoring him entirely.

Mahi breathes through his nose, annoyed, but dutifully fixes his eyes to whatever his brother is pointing at. As soon as he does, the breath is knocked out of him and he understands, immediately, why his brother is so transfixed by the sight.

The shell in question is a beautiful bear-claw that is big enough to sit in one of his large palms comfortably. It’s iridescent, almost translucent it seems, but with the light of the false sun hitting it looks like it’s almost glittering at them in welcome.

“Wow,” Mahi says, unable to stop himself from saying anything at all. His hand reaches out on its own accord to grab it. It’s lighter than he expects, and smooth to the touch. “I think we just won the shell hunting lottery right here.”

He feels the motion of Stryker nodding, ruffling the back of his hair that’s pulled into a loose bun.

“That has to be the most beautiful shell I’ve ever seen, bro,” Stryker replies.

“Yeah,” Mahi replies, running a thumb over it absentmindedly. It is stunning, and its for that very reason that he finds himself putting it back where he found it without missing a beat.

“Dude!” Stryker cries. “What the hell are you doing? Let’s take it with us.”

“I don’t think we should. Other people deserve to enjoy it too,” Mahi argues, perhaps a bit too diplomatically.

Stryker tugs at his hair in annoyance, a move well-documented since their stay with Murmur.

“Well, they can enjoy it from where they’ll see it displayed on your shelf.”

Mahi shakes his head, chuckling at his brother’s antics, and instead reaches for some of the smaller, but no less iridescent shells surrounding the bear claw.

“These will do, instead,” he muses to himself, sticking them in the pocket of his swim trunks.

“Oh my god,” Stryker groans. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Mahi remarks, smug. “I’m spreading the shell cheer!”

“That isn’t a thing.”

“It is now.”

Stryker keeps grumbling in his ear, the poor sore loser that he is. Mahi reaches up and pats him consolingly on his back.

“Cheer up, Stry. Come on, I’ll get ice cream for the both of us to soften the blow.”

“I can’t believe you just left it there.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Like some kind of imp.”

“I can always just drop you off back at your burrow,” Mahi says. “Instead of generously buying ice cream for my snot of a little brother…”

Stryker doesn’t stop his grumbling, but it’s soft enough that he can no longer make it out. He gives a deep, harrowing sigh, and rests his head on the back of Mahi’s.

“Fine, fine. Let’s go, you fucking bleeding heart.”

Submitted By chthonic for She Sells Seashells 2023
Submitted: 1 year and 3 months ago ・ Last Updated: 1 year and 3 months ago