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Mumbo had messaged Grian asking if he was busy and if he could come help him with something. Which isn’t unusual, but Mumbo had previously mentioned that he was going to be taking a break day. So Grian was rightfully confused.
He flew to the man’s town, messaging him to say he was there as he gently landed near the “woodshop”. He got a delayed response telling him to come up to the house, so he did. He made his way through the slightly confusing layout of the small town, before coming up to the cozy house that Mumbo had made for himself.
He knocked on the door before just walking in, it was how they usually treated each other’s bases so he thought nothing of it anymore.
“Mumbo?” he called out, kicking the door closed behind him.
He wandered around the living area, looking for the vampire, before Mumbo called back.
“In the bathroom, Gri” his voice muffled through the walls.
Grian followed the voice to the bathroom, finding Mumbo standing in front of the mirror; with one hand on the edge of the sink to hold his weight as he leaned in, and the other holding a hair dye brush to apply dye to the roots of his parted hair. Grian noticed that his hairline was covered in black as he glanced over at him.
“Hey, G” he then goes back to carefully applying the dye.
He’d foregone his usual suit and tie; instead wearing an old, worn out t-shirt that’s already covered in slightly faded, black streaks, and a pair of lightweight pants.
“What’s with the hair dye?” He leaned against the doorframe.
“Oh! My hair’s graying for some reason, and I’m fixing it”
“Should we not be, I don’t know, messaging Xisuma to actually fix it?” He playfully snarked.
“No, I’m sure it’s nothing, I wouldn’t want to bother him over something like this” Mumbo shrugged as he parted his hair again.
“I-,” he dragged a hand down over his cheek, “ugh, ok, what do you need me for?”
“Well,” Mumbo puts the brush back into the dye bowl before properly turning to his friend, “I’ve realized that doing the back of my head is…quite difficult on my own. So, I was hoping you could help” he smiled nervously.
“Ok, yea, that’s fair” he slipped back out to the living area to leave his stuff somewhere that wouldn’t end up being covered in dye.
When he came back, he was dragging in a random, low backed chair for Mumbo to sit on while he worked. Once Mumbo sat down, he passed the dye bowl to the avian standing behind him.
“It looks like you’re in a proper salon” Grian remarked at the visual of their reflection, resembling one of a client and a hairdresser
“Yea!” The vampire chuckled.
Grian messed around with his dark hair, vaguely mimicking the actions of an actual hairdresser, “ so, what are we doing with your hair today?”
They both immediately started laughing at the attempted voice impression. Thankfully it got a good reaction out of Mumbo.
Grian went about dyeing his friend’s hair, jokes flying between them as the time went by.
“I think we should’ve used gloves” Grian breathes out a laugh as he holds his hands up for Mumbo to see his black covered palms in the mirror.
Mumbo’s eyes go wide before he practically folds himself in half with laughter.
Once he calms down a bit, he comes back upright, “yea, probably would’ve been a good thing” the sentence was broken up by small giggles as he tried to contain himself.
They let the dye sit in Mumbo’s hair for a bit before he washed it out. Grian sat down on the chair they’d brought in while he waited.
Mumbo turned the water off, sat down on his heels, and grabbed the dark towel that Grian offered him, immediately drying his hair with it.
Once he deemed it dry enough, he lowered the towel and looked up at his friend beside him, “How do I look?”
Grian leaned side to side to get a better look at him, “It’s as dark as it was last season” he smiled.
Then he glanced down at the vampire’s face and made an amused snort sound, “the skin around your hairline is absolutely covered though” he started laughing harder.
Mumbo’s eyes widened as he scrambled to get up. Once he stood up again, he turned to the mirror behind him to check how bad the staining was.
The edge of his hairline was blue, the colour clashing with his extremely pale skin. He groaned, trying in vain to rub it off of his forehead; it obviously didn’t budge.
Grian just laughed at his misfortune as he frantically looked up ways to get rid of it.
He’d never agreed to helping with anything other than the dyeing itself, so he just sat back and watched.
Grian was so glad he’d come over that day.