A/N: Okay, after seeing BASEketball, I kind of felt that this needed to be done, because Trey with blond hair just freaks me the hell out.
Bleach
"Dude, come out, it can't be that bad."
Kyle's urging earned nothing more than a groan from the confines of Stan's closet, where the distressed boy had locked himself. "Come on! You can't stay in there forever."
"But... but... It's really bad."
"And it's going to stay that way until you get your ass out here so we can try to fix it. Now come on, Stan!" He was seriously starting to get irritated. He wasn't sure exactly how long he's been waiting for Stan to open the damn door, but it had been more than long enough as far as he was concerned.
"But Kyle...!"
"If you don't come out here right now, I'm breaking the door down and coming in there after you, I swear to god."
"What?! No!" There was shuffling, and grunting, and finally a long defeated sigh. "Fine. But you can't laugh."
Kyle just crossed his arms and quirked a brow. Of course, Stan couldn't actually see this, but Kyle's lack of verbal response was response enough.
"I'm fucking serious, Kyle! No laughing." God, Stan's voice was so annoying when it got all shrill like that.
"Dude, I'm not promising anything. Just get out here so I can see the damage."
And so Stan did finally, albeit grudgingly, make his way out - but not without his trusty toboggan pulled far below his hairline to try to cover up the mess beneath as much as possible. Kyle reached out to remove the hat, but Stan shrunk back in panic-stricken reflex. Upon realizing that there was no point in further delaying the inevitable, he sighed again, grumbled something unintelligible, and ripped the hat from his head.
Kyle's eyes couldn't help but widen at the sight underneath. Stan hadn't told him over the phone exactly what it was that Wendy had done to him, but now he stood before it and... had no fucking clue how to react. "...Dude. What the hell."
Apparently that was not what Stan had wanted to hear, and he let out an agonized groan. "What am I supposed to do?! I had no idea it was gonna be this bad!"
"Wait, wait... so you knew going in that she was gonna bleach it?"
"Well, uh, no... not exactly. It was... um. A spur of the moment thing." Kyle was not buying that for one second and gave Stan a look that expressed as much. "Okay, fine! She's been thinking about going blonde, but wanted to know how it would look first... you know, on someone with naturally dark hair."
"What, so you offered to be her guinea pig?"
"No!" Stan's panicked look slowly fell into a sheepish frown. "Not offered. More like I got dragged along."
"Dude, that's fucking weak."
Still, Kyle couldn't resist reaching out to touch Stan's bleached hair. Strands that had once seemed so familiar, still felt familiar to curious fingers, now reflected the sunlight instead of consuming it. It was... unnerving, to say the least.
Though the motion seemed to calm Stan as he melted into Kyle's touch, he still made his displeasure known with a whine. "I don't like it, Kyle."
"It looks weird."
Stan just made a face at that. "I know."
"Can't you just dye it back to black?" Even as he asked, Kyle figured the answer would be no. If that were the case, why wouldn't Wendy just dye it back immediately?
"Can I?" Clearly Stan hadn't put much thought into this. But then, if he'd put thought into it, he wouldn't have blond hair at the moment.
So Kyle dragged Stan to his house to ask his mom. Mrs. Broflovski was less than pleased when she saw the state of Stan's hair - going so far as to let loose one of her infamous shrieks of "Whatwhatwhat?" - but she agreed to help so long as neither of the boys ever let their friends anywhere near their hair again. One conditioner treatment and dye process later, and no difference could be told by looking at it.
But Kyle could feel the difference when running his fingers through the conditioned strands, which he enjoyed thoroughly later on.
Stan, of course, heeded Mrs. Broflovski's warning about letting other kids near his hair. But Kyle was the exception to this rule. He always was.