Who: Luag MacFusty & Torquil McTavish What: Getting Ready for the Gala / No Shave November When: 30 November Where: Luag's flat Warnings: talk of surprises?
Tor stood at the bathroom sink, his face covered in shaving cream as he prepared to shave off a month's worth of beard growth. Without being able to hide behind the Laddie costume, he knew Gwen wanted his best face for the 'Fly with Pride' event tonight. Although he kind of liked the rugged unkempt look, he didn't feel the need to piss off his PR head. That, and he knew he did look good clean shaven. "Will you still shag me when I'm clean shaven?"
Inspecting his own beard in the mirror for whatever upkeep needed to be done, Luag shrugged. “I haven’t stopped shagging you yet, I don’t see how that’d change it,” he pointed out. “I still say fuck PR though. It’s still November. You should stick it out until midnight.”
Torquil raised an eyebrow at Luag, razor hovering over the foam. "You think we should pass out shaving cream and razors at the gala and do it there?"
He started shaving off a few stray hairs - because he could make it look good even if he was going full mountain man till after midnight. "Any idea what Ellie's got up her sleeve as a MacFusty surprise?"
“That’d make the night memorable at least,” Luag pointed out. ‘Can’t say anyone’s had that happened at the end of an event. Although we should probably warn any lasses who want to partake so they pick their dress robes properly.”
He snorted as he leaned against the wall. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. That ruins the ‘surprise’.”
Tor rubbed a hand over his eyes before washing the now unnecessary shaving lather out of his beard before rubbing some beard oil into it so that it wouldn't look quite as wild and unkempt. "I'll bring them in a pocket. And we can see how the night goes."
He wandered over to Luag and poked him in the ribs. "Keeping secrets from me? That's not exactly nice."
“You mean if we make it to midnight without someone hexing them off,” Luag joked before batting away Tor’s hand. “Oi, I said if. If. She may be my sister but that doesn’t mean I actually knows what goes on in that head of hers. Plus…” He poked Tor right on back. “Even with all that roaring, you are not as scary as her. I’m not facing her wrath spilling any secrets.”
"I don't think even Gwen would go that far. Meaghan might, depending on her mood. Or she'll just go digging in my hair for treasure like normal." Tor squirmed when Luag poked him. "Oi! Watch those hands, mate, unless you want us to be late for the gala."
“And now she just has more to dig through.” Luag reached up and tugged lightly at Tor’s beard. “Or is looking for crumbs like a wee bird going too far for her.” Resting his hands on Tor’s hips, he raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that the fashionable way to go to a gala?”
Tor batted Luag's hand away from his beard. "Careful there, don't need any bald spots on my lovely beard." He groaned. "Don't tempt me, I've got enough issues staying on Gwen's good side and making new songs that are 'family friendly'. You players get a bit more leeway on some of that." Leaning in, he brushed his lips against Luag's. "Besides, there will be time enough after. Or well, after tomorrow's game."
Luag puffed out a sigh. “Aye, I still don’t understand the fuss. It’s Quidditch. But I guess they can’t hear us as well on the pitch when everyone’s supposed to hear you.” He smiled softly as he nodded. “Alright. Alright. I can wait for that. Just so long as you don’t go putting any game quotas for getting that McTavish surprise.”
Tor was about to say as long as Luag didn't end up in St. Mungo's, but he knew better than to tempt fate or jinx a quidditch player. "Because the Urquharts and the Macmillans are all about the fuss, dress robes and all."
Tor pulled back and went to pull on his shirt, buttoning it up. "Besides, a McTavish surprise might just be hexing you into a teacup," he teased.
Luag chuckled as he shook his head. “Depending on how I play, Ellie might thank you for giving her something that might have a chance of hitting a bludger better.”
"Oi!" Tor said, coming over to Luag and poking him in the chest. "You're a bloody good beater and Ellie knows that. You just need to forget all the nonsense and focus on the game. I'd say imagine the other team in their knickers, but that might just distract you."
Luag started at the outburst, staring wide-eyed at Tor a moment before a fond smile quirked his lips. Grabbing Tor’s hand, he sighed. “It was just a joke,” he soothed before pulling the hand up and brushing his lips against the finger tip. “But thanks for the vote of confidence. And don’t worry. There’s only one person on the pitch I’d be picturing in their knickers.”