Uh, no? [Lance frowns and then realizes that the spread would look strange to someone who is convinced box dyes work. He shakes his head and smiles.] Nah, it's to make a hair mask for you. After I strip that crap from your head and redye it, you're gonna need it.

[If Lance is lucky, Shiro's hair won't melt right off his scalp. He's done this before, twice when Rachel didn't learn her lesson the first time, and came out successful on the other side. But that was regular hair. Not trauma induced whitened hair. This may be a completely different animal here.

But he's never backed down from a challenge, even in the face of potential failure, so once Shiro sits, Lance is draping the plastic cape around those too damn broad shoulders. It barely fits. One size fits all, his ass.]

No, you couldn't. You're already a fashion disaster with those boxers of yours. Have some shame.

[Once again, Lance says this lovingly and without a drop of malice in his tone. And if that didn't show how he's just teasing, his gentle fingers that dip into the jar of coconut oil and massages some all over Shiro's hair should. He takes his time, making sure every strand is coated because the bleach is going downtown to battle against that box dye and Shiro is the battlefield.]