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Derek and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Hair Day

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Stiles still isn't sure how he ended up being the one designated to go check on Derek. After the latest Fight for Beacon Hills (capitals totally necessary), Derek had disappeared on his own instead of joining in their post-fight ritual of movies and food and playful sniping banter and FOOD. At least he usually sulked in the SAME ROOM. But after Scott-the-perpetually-pissed-at-Derek actually sounded WORRIED for him, it was decreed by the majority that something had to be done. Ergo, Stiles making his way up Derek's ridiculous spiral staircase to investigate the absence of their fearless leader. He balked at the sound of running water.

"I swear if you're setting me up to walk in on a shower scene, it is NOT going to happen."

Erica's throaty chuckle and Boyd's guffaw followed him down the hall.

But the sound of the water wasn't strong enough to be the shower. Had to be the sink. Was he just taking a reeeealllyyyyy looooooonng time washing up…? Stiles peeked through the door left slightly ajar and darted into the bathroom.

"Whoa whoa whoa, what are you doing, trying to drown yourself?!" He tugged Derek's head up out of the overflowing sink.

"What the hell are you doing, let GO."

"Sorry, sorry, jeeze, just saving your life again. Dude, really, what are you doing?"

Derek's hair was… a mess. The top was sticking straight up and boy oh boy that's a lot of hair. Around the sides and the back of his head though, it was all snarled together and gelled? into place. No, that's not gel, that's…

"Is that a TOOTH?", Stiles yelped. "DUDE, that's a tooth. Somewhere, in all… THAT.", he flailed at the goop that has taken over Derek's head.

"Of course it is," Derek grumped, shoving his fingers in above his ears and YANKING. Well. He tried anyway. Whatever was in his hair had it so tangled together, his fingers barely moved.

"When Lydia cut off that thing's head, some of it's-" his mouth twisted in a moue of disgust, "bodily fluids... ended up on me. I was TRYING to get it out."

"Well I'm pretty sure you made it WORSE, cause it couldn't have looked as bad as that when we hightailed it out of there. I think adding water got you a whoooole new substance. Benefits of the buzz cut, dude, no suspicious sludge making a home on my head. That's it!", He snapped his fingers, pointing directly at Derek with all the gravity of a judge delivering his verdict.

"WHAT'S it."

"We are going to shave your head."

"What?! Stiles, NO."

"Oh, c'mon, there are SOME salvageable bits, but most of that is CLEARLY not budging without the force of a pair of clippers."

Derek visibly wavered, knowing he was right but obviously not wanting to lose an inch of his precious Locks of Lusciousness™.

"Dude, you know I'm right."

"Fine. Just… be careful."

-- --

Stiles tries not to laugh, REALLY he does. But Derek's new haircut is really pretty much the best thing that's happened to them all MONTH.

"If THIS is your definition of 'salvageable', you need to TRY TO FINISH READING THE DICTIONARY AGAIN."

"Well at least the only animal matter left on your head is YOUR OWN." And it's true, the gloopy gunk of grossness is all gone. But so is most of Derek's hair. All that's left is a perfect circle of hair on the very top of his head. It's awesome.

"It's really not."

Ooops, must've said that out loud.

"Stiles, give me the clippers, I'm shaving the rest of it off."

"What? No! That's my masterpiece! You're gonna defile a work of art!"

"Don't make me tackle you."

Stiles practically hurls the clippers at Derek and heads for the door. "FINE. Here. I got enough pictures already."

"STILES!!!"