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Grayson/Rabastan
"Tell them how you made out with her husband!"

Rabastan roared with laughter with the other men (fellow death eaters, but who was really keen on mentioning that out loud in a pub), nearly lying flat on the table as his sides hurt so much. He was quite far gone, having taken one too many shots on the night. It was very rare for him to actually become intoxicated, but getting their planted Minister into office, and having the M.A.G.I.C. Acts instated so quickly? Well that deserved some celebration.

He was so far gone, in fact, that he hardly noticed Grayson Wilkes' glare from across the table. Oh, oh oh ho. That story was hilarious. Polyjuicing himself into a woman, seducing her husband and then beat him nearly to death with a lead pipe? It didn't get much better than that.

"Tell them! Wait wait wait, were you wearing lipstick?" Rabastan let out loudly, looking forward, but not seeing Grayson. Oh, he'd gotten up and was now standing near him. This was usually the point when the pain started. "Cherry? Strawberry?"

"What if I tell them the part where you were forcefully kissed by a man?"

Rabastan's brows furrowed in great confusion, but quickly understood as Grayson grabbed him by the collar, lifted him off his seat, and kissed him harder than he'd ever been kissed.

Well, this was embarrassing.