bleach - @rosekillermicrofic - word count: 397
“I feel like it kind of looks badass as it is,” Barty said smugly as he looked in the mirror.
Evan, who was standing behind him, rolled his eyes. “Frosted tips? Absolutely not. I’m not dating someone who looks like they could be in a boy band.”
The evening had started out like any other. They’d been lounging in their flat, sharing a ___, trying to decide what to order for dinner, when Barty’d said it: “Suppose my hair was green?”
And then the idea had taken hold. A trip to the local drugstore later, and they were standing in their shitty bathroom, Barty’s hair already bleached blonde at the tips, Evan mixing the green color in one of their kitchen bowls they’d stolen from Barty’s dad’s house.
“You don’t love me?” Barty pouted, his eyes narrowing evilly.
“No. Not when you looks so…gay,” Evan chuckled, unceremoniously slathering green onto the shorter man’s head.
“Rosie, you had your prick up my arse not two hours ago. A bit of the pot and the kettle, yeah?” Barty retorted, chuckling.
“Shut it and let me focus.”
It was hard to decide whether or not more of the concoction made it onto Barty’s head or the bathroom floor, but they made do. After about ten minutes, Barty was covered, and the globs were cleaned, leaving multiple rather dubious stains that Evan decided gave ‘character’ to the place.
“Alright. Now we just let it sit for thirty mi–” Evan began to say, reading from the green bottle.
But suddenly, a loud POP! Made both of them jump, ducking for cover as something exploded.
“Wh–what was that?” Barty gaped, looking around the tiny bathroom.
White, foaming bleach covered the walls, the bottle they’d mixed the stuff in earlier laying open, ominous, and nearly-empty on the floor. It was clear that it’d exploded.
“The bleach! Fuck, did you put the cover on it?” Evan demanded, turning to him.
“I…yeah, we were done with it!” Barty argued, throwing his hands up in the air.
“Bleach expands when it’s mixed! You’re not supposed to put the cover back on, it says on the directions!” the taller man sighed, looking around their white-spattered bathroom.
But Barty insisted that the white droplets they found around their bathroom for the next year or so were definitely worth how fantastic his hair looked when they were done.
