Chapter Text
“That’s it, I’m doing it,” Marc said. He reached a hand out to grab the clippers when his arm froze, mid-grasp. Marc sighed deeply, and looked into the bathroom’s three-petaled mirror to confront the culprit. Steven cleared his throat and placed the body’s arm back at their side.
“You know, we don’t have to shave it, maybe just a trim, yeah?” Steven asked nervously. Marc adjusted his glasses to scowl at the Brit (it was still early in the morning and he hadn’t put in contacts yet).
“Steven, this thing is bordering on two inches long at this point. I don’t want the body looking like a bum,” Marc huffed. He knew that all three of them had been putting personal grooming on the back burner for a while now. Their hair at this point was falling well below their ears, with Marc or Jake having to tie it back to keep it out of their faces. But the head hair was a battle for another day; right now Marc was concerned about the beast on their chin.
“It doesn’t make us look like a bum,” Steven said defensively. He scratched his fingers through the hair, tilting his chin in the reflection. “I feel like we look like… A distinguished university professor?” Marc made a face.
“It just showcases how much gray hair we have now,” Marc muttered. He could feel his mid-life crisis approaching, and he can’t say he’s a fan.
“Like I said, ‘distinguished,’” Steven reiterated.
“Look, Steven, I’m sorry. I know that you like it, but I’m putting my foot down here. Jake and I have a say in what we look like as well, and I say that it’s time to shave it off,” Marc said firmly.
“Well I say that we finally tried out a mustache,” Jake said, his newly formed reflection grinning.
“Speak of the devil,” Steven muttered.
“Jake, that is a hundred times worse than what we have now,” Marc groaned.
“Come on, hermano, amigo, princesa , just try it once?” Jake pleaded. Marc made a defeated noise.
“If it means you two will actually let me shave today, then fine. Whatever,” Marc grumbled.
Before either of the alters could complain again, he snatched up the clippers and began trimming most of the long hair off. He leaned over the sink, focusing on taking long swipes across his jawline and cheeks. Marc then traded the clippers for a razor and tube of shaving cream. He wet a towel, running it along his face, before lathering the white foam across the shorter hair. He carefully ran the blade along his face, pretty pleased with himself for not nicking any skin. He cleaned his face with the wet towel before looking himself over in the mirror.
“Esta fue una buena idea, me gusta esto ,” Jake said, grinning and running his fingers across his new accessory in the reflection. Steven looked absolutely mortified.
“We look like a nonce,” Steven lamented, burying his face in his hands. Marc chuckled and studied himself.
“I was thinking more along the lines of Freddie Mercury, Frank Zappa, maybe Tom Selleck?” Jake said, striking a few exaggerated poses with various pouts and smolders.
“Friedrich Nietzsche? Wilford Brimley?” Marc supplied bitterly, causing Jake to scowl at him.
“Just because you can’t pull it off doesn’t mean you have to be rude,” Jake shot back.
“We have the same - nevermind,” Marc started to say exasperatedly, before cutting himself off with a wave of his hand. Grabbing the clippers and razor, he repeated the process on the offending mustache, much to Steven’s relief and to Jake’s chagrin.
“Done,” Marc said, letting the razor clatter onto the counter. He ran a hand along his newly-smooth face, assessing the new look.
He heard the door to the bathroom creak open, and turned to see a sleepy Layla shuffling into the shared room. She yawned and stretched her arms above her head. She opened her mouth to greet her husband before her eyes locked onto his face and widened slightly. Marc shifted a bit under her gaze.
“I thought it was finally time for a shave,” he said, slightly nervous. He jumped slightly when he felt Layla run her hand along his smooth and still somewhat-damp cheek. She smiled up at him.
“Your face is really soft,” she said. Marc felt a slight blush heat up his face and Layla grinned wider. “And you’re still very handsome. Either way.”
She removed her hand from his cheek and kissed him where the feeling of her touch lingered. She then slid past him further into the bathroom to start her own morning routine. Marc grinned at his two reflections.
“Alright, maybe it’s not that bad,” Steven admitted, “But don’t count on me shaving every time I’m in control.”
“Speaking of which- how would you hombres feel about investing in a few fake mustaches?” Jake asked. Steven shouted his protests and Marc buried his face in his palms, sighing in exasperation.