A Horrible Dye Job

Chapter 1: Peter the Pumpkin Head

"Okay, who the hell thought this was funny?" Peter asked, huffing out of the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around his waist. He was soaking wet and clearly mad as hell. His nostrils were flared and his brow furrowed. There was something off about his appearance, but the bulge in his towel was slightly distracting to Gamora.

"Ha ha! You look quite ugly!" Drax roared as he pointed at Peter's hair. His hair was bright orange. Peter made a face at him and rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Yeah, well, at least I have hair!" He stormed back into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. Gamora looked at Drax, the only other person in the common room, and asked: "What did you do?"

"Nothing." Drax said plainly.

Rocket came scampering into the room and was being closely followed by Groot, who was still a teenager but was almost as tall as Gamora now.

"Please tell me I didn't miss it!" Rocket cried as he raced to the bathroom door. Gamora was beginning to piece things together, Rocket obviously did something to Peter's shampoo to make his hair that vibrant orange. But why would he do that?

"I am Groot."

"Yeah, yeah, I heard him yelling too. Gamora! What was his reaction? Was he all like 'Oh no! My hair is orange!'?"

Drax roared with laughter once again, obviously reminiscing about that altercation which took place mere minutes ago.

"It was glorious! He was so confused!"

"Rocket, what did you do?" Gamora asked sharply. Clearly, she was the only one who thought that turning someone's hair a different color was not funny. Well, besides Mantis probably, but she was taking a nap in her room so she was not useful backup right now.

"Quill's ego seemed to be getting a little bit too big to fit on the ship, so I decided to do him a favor and make sure it still fit." Rocket said smugly while crossing his arms across his chest. He looked relatively proud of himself. He also had a point, Peter was beginning to be demanding and unappreciative of the teams work. He was snappy and just plain ol' irritable. The Guardians were doing odd jobs and just meandering around the galaxy looking for trouble. Everyone had been on edge lately, especially since there were rumors of Nebula's own adventures against Thanos.

"Come on. Rocket, that's just childish." Gamora snapped at him, irritated that she was now going to have to be the one to calm Peter down and make sure he doesn't retaliate and wind up ruining their friendship forever.

"I am Groot."

"Peter said what?" Gamora quickly turned her head towards Groot, who had just said that Peter called Rocket a "trash panda" again. She buried her head in her hands out of frustration and decided to go do some damage control. "Okay, guys, I will go talk to him. Just stay out of my way for a while."

Drax, for once, read the room and announced that he was going to make something to eat and wanted Rocket and Groot's help.

Gamora knocked gingerly on the bathroom door.

"What!" Peter snapped angrily, and Gamora could hear what sounded like a towel rubbing against something.

"It's me. Open up, please." She waited a couple of moments before turning the knob. Surprisingly, it was unlocked. She walked inside the spacious bathroom only to be greeted by the sight of Peter's bare ass. He quickly whipped around and draped the towel in front of him so that Gamora couldn't see anything.

"Gamora, what the fuck!" Wow, his hair really was orange. It had somehow gotten worse in the five minutes that had passed since he had stormed out demanding an answer.

She couldn't help it, she giggled at him. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand and tried to cover it with a cough.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, laugh it up! Orange hair is hilarious!" Peter rolled his eyes and secured his towel around his waist.

"It really does not look that bad," Gamora began, only to be interrupted by his laughter.

"Yes, it does." Peter groaned as he tousled his hair while glancing into the mirror. He was obviously upset by the situation at hand; Gamora knew how much he cared about his hair. He told her one night while they were laying around listening to music that his hair was one of his favorite features about himself. At the time she thought that was idiotic, but now she knew how impactful hair actually was. Maybe she should do something different with hers? No, now was not the time to ponder about that.

Gamora reached out and touched Peters' shoulder. It was warm and slightly moist; she stroked his skin with her thumb gingerly. He seemed to relax under her hand. He closed his eyes and sighed.

"I just don't understand. Does shampoo even go bad?" He joked, staring into her eyes. She once again noticed how they were not all one solid color, there were flecks of blue, green, and even some light brown.

"I haven't noticed an expiration date. However, I think I know who was behind this little…incident." Gamora replied as she ran her hand through Peter's wet orange hair. He moved closer to her, so close that they were almost touching. She could feel something, some unspoken thing. Well, it was sort of spoken now. It had been almost a year since they had fought his egomaniac of a father, and Peter brought up this thing. Gamora did not like talking about her feelings, she was essentially a trained assassin, and what soldier wanted to make themselves that vulnerable?

"Who? God, was it Rocket?" Gamora cocked her head and him and smiled.

"Apparently. He said you called him a "trash panda" again? You really need to watch what you say to your team."

"Me? Rocket was the one who wanted me to skip Toto's 'Africa' and I told him he had terrible taste and…" Peter trailed off, suddenly realizing that he had made a grave mistake in pissing Rocket off.

"Well, you should apologize and see if he made an antidote."

"Antidote? Gamora, this is probably permanent hair dye." Peter groaned and slipped his hands onto her back, and buried his head into her neck. He was usually touchy-feely, but not normally this much. He was obviously really upset.

"What are you talking about?" She could barely understand him because her mind was going everywhere. She was focusing on how his skin was still slightly wet and his hands were slowly moving up and down her body and oh god.

"Dye. It changes the color of things." He now had his hands dangerously close to her ass, and she was trying to remain calm. He picked his head off of her shoulder and grinned.

"Oh." She said, and he chuckled at her. "What's so funny?"
He smiled and shook his head. "You're as stiff as a board. My hair is fucking orange and you can't even relax around me. Is it really that horrible?" Damn him. He knew exactly what he was doing and why she was stiff and ugh. Just ugh. Frustrated, she pulled away from him.

"It is not flattering." She huffed and walked away, leaving a confused Peter to sit and think about what he had done.