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“hey, could we stop by a store soon? my hair looks fucking awful.” stan lifted part of his bangs up with his finger, frowning at the noticeable black roots that were taking over the rest of his head. seeing himself in the grimy mirror of the pit stop didn’t help with the equally grimy feeling that spread over him; his face was starting to break out again and his hair was already greasy from not showering the past few days. wonderful.
kyle was in one of the stalls, probably doing some sort of skincare routine stan never understood (there were too many products, which was the right one? and why were there so many?). after hearing the sink turn off, kyle’s voice echoed in the empty bathroom. “we can but it’ll be a while til we can rebleach your hair.”
stan’s eyebrows furrowed. “how long?” preferably, it would be within the week— the man in the mirror wouldn’t be him otherwise. speaking of, he needed to shave soon. there was a bit too much stubble above his upper lip that was unnerving to look at.
“uhhh maybe sometime at the end of the month?”
stan blanched. “the end of the month?!”
“i mean, like— yeah dude. we don’t have the money to be spending on a motel room to redo it right now.” kyle’s response came easy as he opened the door to the stall and walked out, backpack in tow. “you ready to go?”
“no no no wait— just. hold on.” stan breathed in. “why does it need to take til the end of the month? what the hell are we doing before then that costs so much money?”
“essential stuff, dude. food, drinks, all that shit that we need to survive. we don’t need a motel right now.”
kyle’s reasoning was solid. and yet—
“the bleach is essential to me, ” stan emphasized, hearing his voice echo within the room. he felt something curl in his chest, rising to his throat; he ignored it. “i need to get more.”
“it’s fucking hair bleach stan, you can last a week or two without it.” the telltale signs of kyle becoming irritated were on full display: tugging his hat down on his head, his fists balling up beside his waist, his face scrunching up as he clenched his jaw.
stan continued. “what’s the big deal about me going to buy more bleach?! it’s been months since i last bleached my hair!”
“it’s not about the fucking bleach stan! we’d have to rent a room to bleach your hair after buying the bleach because it makes a fucking mess! and renting a room costs money that we. don’t. fucking. have.” kyle’s finger jabbed into stan’s chest, his face tilted down to look him in the eyes. “what’s so fucking important that you have to rebleach it?!”
the thoughts from earlier came crashing down in stan’s head. his breathing was more erratic. he was sweating. he could feel his heartbeat in his ears, thumping way too fucking loudly. his stomach lurched.
it was all too much.
“because i don’t want to look like my fucking dad alright?!”
stan froze as he saw kyle stiffen. he felt his eyes widen like a deer in headlights. it wasn’t a secret that he had issues with his dad, but speaking it into existence like that was—
the hand in front of stan’s chest moved to his shoulder, squeezing it gently. kyle was frowning as he said, “sorry.”
as hard as he tried not to let it happen, tears sprung to stan’s eyes as he tugged kyle into a hug, the wetness immediately seeping into kyle’s shoulder.
kyle stumbled a little but regained his footing quick to hold onto him. he wrapped his arms around him, rubbing his back.
kyle smelled nice. he smelled like clean laundry and whatever cologne he bought ages ago. he smelled like home.
after a moment passed, kyle spoke. “hey dude, it’s— it’s alright,” the anger was gone from his voice, awkwardness taking its place. “maybe we could figure something out to get it done earlier.”
stan was silent for a minute, sniffling. his grip on kyle tightened slightly. “how?” his voice was quiet, muffled further from kyle’s jacket.
kyle pulled away a bit to look at him. his hands moved to stan’s shoulders, rubbing them with his thumbs reassuringly. “i don’t know, we could just—“
the bathroom door slammed open, causing both of them to tense and snap their heads over to the source. it was kenny, appearing apprehensive.
“uh, you guys good in here?” kenny asked, scratching the back of his head. “cartman’s getting real bitchy so i told him i’d come get you guys.”
kyle scoffed at that, rolling his eyes. “yeah, we’re fine. we just need to stop by the store soon to buy some hair bleach.”
kenny hummed at that, walking over as kyle and stan separated. his hand reached up and lifted up some of stan’s hair with his fingers before retracting it back into his parka pocket. “yeah, looks like it needs some. we gonna stop at a motel to do that?”
kyle shook his head. “no, we don’t have the money for that right now. we were talking about figuring out another way to do it.”
tapping his finger against his chin, kenny suggested, “just do it at the next pitstop after the store. we already make the stop anyway, might as well rebleach stan’s hair while we’re there.”
stan blinked, considering the idea. “i think that’d work. right?” he glanced at kyle, who said, “yeah, that would work. we’d need to make sure the bathroom is empty before doing it though. and we need to clean up any bleach and tinfoil too.”
stan nodded while kenny did a mock-salute. “that’s good with me.”
the door slammed open again, this time by a frustrated cartman. “can you fags hurry the fuck up?! i’m freezing my balls off out here!”
ever quick to anger, kyle yelled back, “shut the fuck up fatass!” however, before he pursued the argument further, kyle pulled off his hat and pushed it onto stan’s head. immediately after, he stomped over to the door to retort, “you didn’t have to stand outside in the snow you dumb fuck.” he shut the door with a bang, leaving stan and kenny in the bathroom.
blinking, stan pulled the green ushanka down. his hair got a little in his eyes before he brushed the strands under the hat, his face warming.
kenny snorted. “let’s go before they decide to kill each other.” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around stan’s shoulders.
before they headed out, stan caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. kyle’s hat covered his hair nearly completely— barely a lock of black hair in sight.
stan turned back and began walking with kenny, a small smile on his lips. “okay.”