Jargyle Mini Oneshots

A red flannel and a slow burn?

Hawkins, Indiana, and Lenora Hills, California felt like a life-time ago. Well, it wasn't a life time ago, but it definitely was a time ago; specifically, two decades ago. The two weed buddies stayed friends for that long, and were now well into their thirties. Beeping and whirring of traffic several feet down had become background noise in their daily lives of sharing a one bed apartment in Chicago, Illinois.

"Hey, Johnny?" It wasn't just the beeping of car horns either. A loud siren blared from the fire alarm in the kitchen as smoke filled the small space and sent Argyle, who had been trying to cook for the other for once after god knows how long, stumbling back and covering their nose with the collar of their shirt.

"I got it!" White foam sprayed out from a fire extinguisher and landed on the flames coming from the stove. Jonathan huffed and stared at the mess that was the kitchen- Argyle wasn't exactly a clean cooker.

"What the fuck was that?" Jonathan turned to his friend, throwing a hand out to gesture to the scene in front of the two while Argyle coughed and looked on with defeated eyes.

"You said you liked tacos, so I was trying to make them-" Argyle murmured out, looking up at the other with big, apologetic eyes that made Jonathan pause then sigh and rub the bridge of his nose.

"How do you even burn ground beef- jesus," he muttered to himself as he grabbed a rag to clean up the pile of foam. "Open a window! That thing is giving me a headache." Argyle scampered to open the balcony door instead and start waving out the smoke frantically before going to try and shut off the persistent fire alarm manually. It had been faulty since they had moved in about eight years ago, but fires weren't that common in their place, so they never got to asking someone to fix it. However, if Argyle was insistent on learning to cook then Jonathan would have to talk to the building's maintenance guy about installing a new alarm that would actually turn off when they attempted to do so.

Argyle was in the middle of shaking out a blanket as an attempt to wave out more of the smoke when they finally caught sight of Jonathan who was in nothing more than his binder. They froze, the blanket falling, as they took in the sight before quickly looking away. Both of them were very open about themselves from their sexuality and identity down to- uh, well. They do share a bed. I'm sure you can figure that out. Despite that, neither of them had set a label yet. Argyle had been thinking that they were nothing more than friends with benefits, but pet names were becoming a thing pretty fast, and the name "sweetheart" made their heart flutter anytime Jonathan called them over.

"There- look, at least let me-" Jonathan started to say before catching sight of the long haired guy hiding their rapidly reddening face. He blinked then looked down at himself and rolled his eyes.

"Don't be a perv, man," he joked with a light laugh, tossing the dirtied rag into their laundry hamper and setting the fire extinguisher back under the cabinet.

"I am not!" Argyle blurted out in response which just earned another laugh that had them pouting down at the floor. Jonathan took the reaction lightly, and mainly shrugged it off if it wasn't for him grabbing a flannel that was laying on the back of the couch and sliding his arms into it before buttoning it.

"That room is stupidly hot," he grumbled as he fixed the collar. "We really should buy another fan." Argyle looked up at him as he continued to talk, rambling about this or that like the moment before hadn't even happened. They didn't know whether to be thankful for it or not; at least, Jonathan had stopped teasing them about how they reacted.

"Yeah," they murmured absentmindedly, still waving smoke out of the door with their blanket before sighing and letting it drop. "That good enough?" It wasn't suffocating anymore, and the smoke created more of a background smell like that of a new house or car that had been used a couple of times.

"That's fine, just pull the screen and we can leave the door open." A light breeze was blowing in even after Argyle pulled the screen part of the door across and clicked it into place so that they could leave the balcony doors open wide. They shuddered, hand reaching for that flannel that they had set down before they had started cooking just for it to land on the couch. They blinked and looked up to see Jonathan wearing it.

"What?" He asked, raising a brow and not realizing that Argyle had been actively wearing what he was now. Argyle paused, then sighed a little and shook their head.

"Nothin'." They flashed a small smile that had Jonathan's lips twitching into one to mimic it.

That flannel remained in the apartment until it literally started to fall apart at the seams. A button would come off, but it was fine: the others still worked. A little bit of string would come out of the arm seam, but that was fine because they could just cut it off. Argyle started to handwash it instead of throwing it in with the regular laundry, and they ended up giving it to Jonathan to keep because with working out, their arms were starting to do some damage on the back of the flannel whenever they would reach out for something. The red flannel soon became a stitched in part of the quilt that Argyle was making out of specific pieces that they wished to keep.