#jonathan byers x argyle

[harringroveera]

They’re so high and in love

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve: You know, just because I'm bisexual doesn't mean I have to like them at the same time.

Robin: I never said you had to?

Steve: I mean, I really don't have to. How would that even work? . . . Oh, great, it was bad enough risking getting rejected by one of them, but they could come at me from both sides with a double whammy of 'yeah, that's a definite no.'

Robin: Okay, I'm lost.

Vickie: I don't think he's talking to us anymore, Robin.

Robin: Shit. . .Steve, you're thinking out loud again, buddy. Who are you even staring at?

She followed his line of sight to find him staring directly at Jonathan and Nancy.

Steve: I mean, I guess if Nancy lets me marry her, then I'm going to have to marry Jonathan, too.

Robin: You don't have to.

Steve: *sighs* No, I'm going to. He's cute. I'm probably going to have to throw Argyle in there, too. He's got a lot going for him, though. I'd marry him for his hair care secrets alone.

Robin: Well, I'm telling you right now, babe, I don't think your dad is going to pay for that wedding.

Steve: *sad noises* I know. . .

[spicysix]

There was smoke around them. There usually was. It never bothered them in the first place, not from the start, and they actually grew to like it the more they smoked together. It made the atmosphere around them feel more cozy, nowadays. More intimate. The sweet earthy smell enveloped them in a sense of comfort.

"You ever thought about how far away from each other we were?" Jonathan asked. Argyle turned his head in the pillow to look at him, and Jonathan kept his eyes to the popcorn ceiling above them.

"Hm. I guess," Argyle answered, blinking slowly, taking the sight of foggy Jonathan in.

"I think what I'm saying is, if my family never moved away from Hawkins we wouldn't have met," he said, finally turning to look at Argyle too. His small eyes almost closed all the way. "Me and you, I mean."

"Nah, man." Argyle smiled, and his smile ignited Jonathan's own. "I think we'd find each other somehow."

"Yeah?" Jonathan's tone was hopeful. Argyle felt as he pushed his hand closer and intertwined their pinkies, a blush taking over his cheeks. He was so pretty.

"Yeah. I'd still know you. I'd find my way to you."

[lovipop2049]

argyle ruffling jonathans hair all the time is REAL TO ME!!!

[thewritersaddictions]

The Adults: Jargyle- Blunt

Pairing: Jonathan Byers x Argyle x Fem!Reader

Pov: Reader

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, Gay lovers, smoking weed, getting high, explicit material, set in California

Summary: Argyle and Jonathan invite you over for a smoke session.

A/n- firefly-graphics for dividers

WC- 2.6k

Stranger Things Master List // The Adults Master List

“So like, have you guys ever had sex before?” I ask words falling out faster than I could catch them. The blank stare I got from the two boys in front of me gave me all I needed to know. Not only had I surely misjudged both of them, but I had also smoked way too much weed for my brain to process the stupid questions that were coming out of my mouth. 

The silence could have killed the three of us. Sitting in the back of Jonathan's room the smoke seemed to never lift instead opting to waft around the bedroom. Argyle had called it hotboxing. Not that I was aware of what that truly meant. 

To be honest the only reason I was sitting in Jonathan’s room was because he had invited me over. He had rushed into my job. Stumbling over his feet with Argyle not far behind him. “Do you maybe wanna come hang out with me and uh… Argyle.” Jonathan had asked me. His hand is smoothing out his hair. “Sure” I was overly peppy, glad to be hanging out around people for the most part, but excited to be hanging out with the two most intriguing guys in California. 

Had I thought it was going to lead to smoking and exposing my most inner secrets? No, I figured that everything would be okay. Figured that never in my entire life would I end up here. Laying on Jonathan's bed with a blunt between my fingers. 

I had never taken the two boys for smokers, but then that would be a lie. All you had to do was look at Argyle and ask him a few questions. He was more then willing to expose himself and his habits as long as you weren’t an asshole about the way you phrased your questions. 

Argyle was the one that first lit the blunt. It sparked to life, as I stared at it with amazement. “So have you ever smoked before?” Jonathan asked me as the silence took over the room. Funny to think that according to Jonathan he lived with his younger brother, his mother, and an adopted sister and it was just this quiet. 

“No, I’ve never… Well.. No, I've never smoked weed before.” I said, a little to shy for what was about to happen. As Argyle puffed and the smoke filled the room it was hard not to get a whiff of the powerful smell. I shook my head trying to escape the rather calming feeling I was getting. “How about I teach ya.” Jonathan said, moving closer to me. Our knees touching, Argyle passed him the blunt I watched as a large set of fingers tangled together in front of my face without a care in the world. I gazed, kept my gaze there for too long. 

“Y/n?” Jonathan asked, drowning out the many thoughts that were running through my mind. “Yeah, you… I’m here.” I said. “So, look at me Angel.” Jonathan said. The blunt was laying nicely between his two lips. It wasn’t the first time I had looked at Jonathan and found the most attractive parts of him at the forefront of my thoughts. “Okay.” I said timidly. He had this certain type of look. His gaze was darker, more brooding. Like if I were any dumber on this whole idea he would baby me through every tiny little step. 

He helped me through the rest of the process. The blunt sat still between his closed lips. It was odd being watched like I was, like I was a doe standing in the woods waiting to be shot down. Scary almost that the two most intriguing guys were just watching as I brought the blunt to my lips. The first drag and puff caused a deep cough to come bubbling up through my chest. I felt like I wasn’t able to breathe, and then the most relaxing feeling washed over me. 

I felt like I was on cloud nine. Zooming through the clouds like I was swimming in water. Everything all at once felt like I was moving in slow motion and running the fastest marathon of my life. It was a confusing roller coaster that I was starting to fall in love with. 

You know how you’ll get on a large fucking roller coaster and you spend all that time in the line waiting, and watching as droves of people get on an off ahead of you. The only thought in your head is ‘what am I getting myself into?’. You still are in the line, and finally it’s your turn, your turn to buckle your seat in, have the teenage-adult come over and barely check that you’re secure. Before you put your life in the hands of the coaster. Then everything all at once disappears and a new wave of thoughts come crashing down into your head. The thoughts of how thrilling it all feels around you. 

Wind pushing past your face. Hair sorta flows in the fast air, and before you know it the ride is hitting its climax. Hitting the several loops that made the ride the most attractive of the entire park. That’s what it feels like, your first rush of smoke into your lungs before your mind goes foggy with excitement, with laughter, or whatever mindset you’re in when you take your first hit. 

“Wow, that’s was a fuckin’ huge hit doll.” I hear Argyle say, he’s closer than before. Almost like he’s a part of me, but I honestly can’t say that I give a damn about it. I like how close the boys are to me, Jonathan has somehow gotten himself around my back while Argyle just relaxes next to me. I bring the blunt back to my lips taking another hit, letting the smoke sit for longer in my lungs before I let it fall from my lips. 

I feel so dizzy, but it’s a rather addictive feeling by now. I can’t tell if that’s because the room was already smoke induced when I walked in, or if I’m simply riding the wave. With every hit the lighter I feel. The worries of what tonight might bring drift away with any other worry my mind can come up with. “You might just take that entire blunt for yourself, Angel.” Jonathan says from behind me, his mouth is so close to my ear, his voice somehow shifts. Darker, and rougher. Argyle has yet again somehow gotten closer, his hand is resting nicely on my thigh. Just resting there, keeping me in the present while he allows me to drift into a space I’ve never been before. 

Before I know it, the blunt is almost gone, and the foggy feeling is setting in, the laughter is setting in, but most of all I have no filter now. Words are going to start flowing like water from a faucet anytime now. The same question from before falls out of my mouth without regard for how the boys might look at me, and without regard for how the words make my face get raw with blush. Everything seems easier, smoother with the weed pumping through me. 

“So like, have you guys ever had sex before?” I giggle, smiling harder than I think I ever have. Words, they sound funny but I wonder seriously what they might say, or what they might not say. In my daze of ruining the first blunt, I hadn’t noticed a second at being lit. The two were passing it before each other.

The first voice I hear is Jonathans. “I’d say I’ve kissed him before.” Jonathan reveals. It feels so normal to hear Jonathan say that, like I already knew that he was going to say it. “I don’t know if you’d call that kissing Byers?” I hear Argyle counter. I looked over, I had never noticed just how pretty he was beforehand. Long brown hair that somehow made all his features just look so pretty. Thick lashes that hit his cheeks every time he blinked. The boy smelled like heaven, pizza and weed. If I could I would just lick him to see if he really tasted like that. 

“And what does that mean, Argyle?” I ask, he looks over me, his gaze no longer over my shoulder. His eyes are blown but in the most beautiful way ever. You can barely see the hazel brown behind the dark black iris. “Wouldn’t you like to know the doll?” He says passing the blunt back over to Jonathan. I stare, longer than I should, but I want an answer. “Yes, of course I want to know. I wanna know everything.” I say. 

Again the filter is gone, and I’m frankly too deep in the relaxing feeling to give a shit anymore. I don’t care about when the feeling leaves me and I regret every single question, because at least then I won’t be with the two prettiest boys in California.

“Oh come now, Argyle. She’s been such a good girl. Takin’ that hole blunt for herself. Tell her all about you and me.”  I hear Jonathan say behind me. Even Jonathan wants the story out. It only makes me wanna know more. I reach over, setting the palm of my hand on Argyle’s chest. His heart fastens under the touch, and I can’t help but smile. “Please, I really… I really wanna know all your dark secrets.” I say, batting my eyes a little too much. 

“Alright, I’ll spill our secrets. It wasn’t just kissing, was it Byers?” Argyle asks. I don’t hear an answer, so I continue for more. “It was roaming hands, and hot whispers between each other. And damn down Jonathan loves to be the most submissive little boy in the world.” Argyle says. I hear a whimper from behind and look over my shoulder. 

There’s a nice row of pink over Jonathan's cheeks and nose. We made direct eye contact for the first time tonight, and I melted right into it. “He begs for me to kiss him, begs for me to wrap my hand around his cock and jerk him off until he’s right on the edge. He loves it when I just outright deny him of everything he so desperately wants.” Argyle says. Another whimper. 

“Fuck” It’s quiet but I can’t help it. The mental image in my head is probably far from the truth but the wetness between my thighs isn’t helping much. “I’d say it was much more than kissing. Much more than just once or twice too.” Argyle says, looking over at me. My blunt is long gone. My thighs are rubbing together as the mental image pushes me over a new edge. A high edge of absolute wonder and imagination. 

I’m leaning into Jonathan’s touch. Leaning into his smell. He’s different from Argyle. He’s got a more earthy smell, regardless of weed still radiating off him. “Do you wanna be just like my Jon. Hmm? Be my little girl yeah?” Argyle questions. He’s so close, his hair is tickling my cheek. I can’t help but smile. High, and excited off the feeling of being literally pushed further into Jonathan touche. “Yes, please. I wanna be between the two of you all the time.” Again the words have not stopping point. A flowing and raging river of thoughts. 

The motions are quick. I don’t know how but most of my next thirty seconds go by in the blimp. Jonathan picks me up and moves me towards the front of his bed. My back resting on the head board. Shoes having been kicked off when I first got to the Byers house. I lay there. Argyle on the right side, and Jonathan on my left. 

This is how most dreams start. With the main focus being your crush, the ones you can’t have but desperately want. The touches are soft at first. Argyle’s hand rest on my upper thigh. Jonathan's rubbing a comforting circle into my hand. Everything is so soft, and then Jonathan is kissing me. I can’t help but fall into the kiss, fall into the way his mouth feels against mine. Warmth surrounds me immediately as I feel his hand come to cup my cheek. He’s being so gentle with me, so slow and gentle. It’s everything I want, and nothing at all. I want the roughness. I want him to shove his tongue down my throat and bite my lips. I want to leave with swollen lips, bruises all down my flesh from his bites and hickeys. 

But I gather that’s why there are two of them. One’s the most gentle human being on the planet, and the other is a beast waiting to be unleashed. I’ll take my chances with both. When Jonathan leaves the kiss his hand goes with him, and I open my eyes. His lips were a dark shade of red, swollen, and just so damn amazing to look at, but my gaze changed. 

When I feel a rough hand come to grasps the back of my neck. Pulling me in another direction. Argyle has a force behind his arm that I wasn’t prepared for and a whimper passing through me. Involuntary or not. Argyle is hot as fuck right now. I’m being pulled into his lap. His lips down come down on mine at first. Instead they tease, leaving wet spots and little licks on my neck before they make it up to my lips. He’s rough in a whole different way. He doesn’t wait for me to open and let him in. He’s already shoving his tongue down my throat. Roaming, wanting access to everything I have to give to him. 

I’m thriving on a whole new and different touch. 

I’m not sure how we all ended up with no clothes on. Or, how I ended up jerking off one of them, and sucking the other one off. Of course I wasn’t a virgin in everything, just smoking. I had my fair share of boyfriends in my earlier days at high school. I knew a few tips and tricks. But I was amazed when I saw Jonathan and Argyle's cocks. 

Jonathan was in my mouth. Slim, but it was all made up for in just how big his cock was. I could barely manage to get him all down my throat. His hand came to rest gently on my head. His fingers weren’t digging into my hair, or pushing me down. It was just a reminder that he was there. Watching as my mouth swallowed him down as much as I could manage. 

In my hand was Argyle. Thicker than Jonathan, but worth the weight he felt in my hand. I let the tip of his cock spread precum over my hand, as I used that to stroke his cock. Argyle leaned into the touch. Nearly fucking my hand with every stroke of my hand. 

Whatever this was, I was more than okay with getting my mouth stuffed with cock, and having my hand stuffed with a thick cock. I could feel just how wet I was as it ran down my thighs. 

This was a whole new experience. My nerves heighted and not really due to the weed. I felt like I was cloud nine, not on cloud nine. As I sucked Joanthan cock, I felt a shift from above me. Looking through my lashes I could just barely see but Argyle had a rough hand in Jonathan's hair. Pulling him close to him. Their lips molded together, soft moans being pulled from Jonathan. My mouth around his cock, and Argyle pulling such an innocence out of him.

Completed on: 01/09/23

Posted on: 01/10/23

The Adults- @yourfavdummy

[mongoose-croft-main]

Argyle: but like how many should we have?

Jonathan: I dunno, at least a few.

Argyle: I had 13 brothers and sisters growing up.

Jonathan: okay. . . Not that many.

Robin: you guys are gonna name your kids something weird like Argyle aren't you?

Jonathan: what like, Paisley?

Argyle: Plaid?

Jonathan: Gingham?

Argyle: Corduroy, like for a boy?

Jonathan: Patchwork Silk, is that anything?

Argyle: Distressed Demim?

Nancy: okay, you guys know you can't name a child 'Distressed' right? *whispers to Robin* you know you're giving them ideas right?

Robin: I'm sure they wouldn't actually-

Jonathan: *grabs a pen and paper to take notes*

Robin: what have I done?

[edmetalqueer]

*!*!* Men In Skirts *!*!*

Pair: Jonathan Byers x Male Reader x Argyle.

Genre: Fluff & Lime-ish.

WARNINGS: Hickeys, Thigh grabbing, Ass groping, making out, swearing.

Y/N stood in front of the mirror, wearing a f/c skirt, checking himself out, "Hell yeah, i rock this skirt, looking good" Y/N said, giving himself more confidence, looking back, hearing voices along with key scrambling, "I TOLD YOU MAN- IT'S NOT A GOOD IDEA-" Argyle was heard, Y/N walked into the hallway, "You two are back" Y/N said, smiling, hands on his hips, "I-Is that a skirt??" Jonathan asked, Y/N nodded, "See something you like, puppy?" Y/N said back, smirking, Jonathan stared at him, cheeks flushing red, "Why the nickname-" Jonathan whined out, sighing, Argyle let out a chuckle, "Why you two flirting without me-" he said, "Wait, i got an idea, Argyle, stay here." Y/N said, Argyle raised an eyebrow, sitting down on a chair, Y/N dragged Jonathan to his room, throwing a skirt at him, "Put it on" Y/N said, Jonathan groaned, putting it on, looking at Y/N, "Is this necessary?" he asked, Y/N walked over to him, kissing him, "Yes." Y/N responded, smirking, groping his ass lightly, walking out, Jonathan followed, blushing red, "Woahh- you two are- hot-" Argyle said, almost tripping on his words, Jonathan stared into ground, playing with his feet, "I never thought about how hot men are in skirts- shitt-" Argyle groaned out, enjoying looking at Y/N & Jonathan, Y/N walked over to Argyle, sitting in his lap, grinning, "Men in skirts-" Argyle whined out, a huge smile on his face, "Byers, come on here." Y/N demanded, Jonathan walked over, embarrassed, "This- this is paradise-" Argyle says, chuckling, pulling Jonathan closer, groping his ass, Jonathan whines, "What is with you both and groping my ass." Jonathan says, "Ass." Y/N mumbles out, humming, the three starts laughing, Y/N stood up, turning on the radio, playing music, Argyle got up, grabbing Jonathan, trying to dance with him, "OH my god." Jonathan groans out, grinning like an idiot, Argyle kissed him, smiling, "You two should wear skirts more often-" Argyle says, Y/N scoffed, smiling, "Maybe we should." Y/N said, hugging Jonathan from the back, kissing his neck, "What-- are you two-- doing--" Jonathan whined out, sighing, Y/N planted hickeys on his neck, Argyle kissed him, holding him by the hair, Jonathan panted, the attention he was getting making him grow an painfully hard erection, grinding against Argyle as the kiss became more aggressive, Argyle gripped his thighs, digging his nails gently into the flesh, Jonathan let out a moan, whining, "Didn't know you liked this, Puppy." Y/N said, smirking, "I think we should continue this in the bedroom." Y/N said, looking at Argyle & Jonathan.

[dxncingwithastrxnger]

Okay, wait, wait, wait. I was thinking all about the older teens ships in stranger things and suddenly my mind conjured up something. Hold on, hold on, I need to type it out right now. This is for the stonathan, jargyle, and...stargyle?? I guess?? Shippers, so here we go. I have no idea how long this is gonna be, so lets just dive into it and find out

××××××××××××××××××××

And suddenly, they need to figure out this thing between them. Jonathan didn't know two shits about being in a relationship. He'd never really gotten the chance to be in any others after Nancy and she had been his first relationship ever. Argyle had a little more experience than him in the love department, but not that much more. And Steve, he'd been in plenty of relationships over the years. You'd think he'd be the most prepared of any of them, but even Steve wasn't sure how to go about all this. It was a first for all three of them. And it didn't help that it had all happened so suddenly. I mean, some could say it'd been a long time coming, but for them? They'd had no idea. Which begs the question. How do you fall in love with not one, but two people, and not even realize?

[sherifftillman]

Red Sun in the West 😂 For the Titles game.

hmm i'm thinking jargyle for this one!

send me a fake fic title and i'll tell you what i'd write based on it!

jonathan usually drops argyle off + picks him up after his shifts at surfer boy bc by the time his shift is over he's kinda over driving. and so they drive to this one particular spot just outside of the town's borders, where it's just the two of them as far as the eye can see bc california desert. at first it was just a way for them to let off a bit of steam, but over time they have some real deep conversations, even if they're stoned outta their minds when some of them happen.

around the time of year when the sun is setting just before argyle's shift finishes, there's just something about the fact that when they get to Their Spot, they get to watch the sun set as well as vent to each other. and there's something about that that hits the kinda spot that even purple palm tree delight can't touch. jonathan starts thinking he could get used to feeling this way for the rest of his life. but that would mean spending his life with argyle. which, of course he plans on, that's his bestie. but also he feels all warm inside whenever he makes argyle smile or laugh, the same way he did when he and nancy first started talking. but that must be the weed giving him the fuzzies, right? except they're at a point now where they're not even smoking. they just park up, sit on the bonnet of the car and immediately start shooting the shit.

and jonathan thinks back as to how nancy wasn't even the first person he's been attracted to. but steve harrington was not a "warm fuzzies" kind of crush. steve was an asshole, an asshole who always had a girl on each arm and another on the end of a phone. there's no way he'd be into jonathan and so there'd be no way he could ever find out how jonathan felt. and that fear comes back again a little. but not a fear that argyle would beat him up for having a crush on him. jonathan fears losing argyle as a presence in his life far more.

but argyle notices that jonathan's clearly getting tense over something and he just. wraps his arm around jonathan's shoulders, pulls him closer and pushes his head to rest on his shoulder. and he's just like "it's all good, man. argyle's got you." and jonathan tentatively wraps his arms around argyle's abdomen and cuddles up to him and they just sit and watch the sun set together <3

[harringroveera]

Well the confession really caught Jonathan off guard

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

More Than Words

A Rovickie one-shot with a side of Jargyle and Platonic Vargyle. Okay, platonic Vargyle turned out to be a big side. Oops.

Vickie had wanted to be paired up with Robin for their next and supposedly last mission, but Hopper had other plans. It might have been a smart idea, though, she thought. She would have just gotten distracted, but she hadn't really had a chance to talk with Robin since all of this happened. It all had to happen quickly, though, to save Hawkins. They were sure that this time, Vecna would be destroyed or, rather, they hoped he would be now that more people were in the know and were willing to help out.

Argyle and Vickie were on guard duty while the others took on the main mission. They all had their own little jobs. Vickie couldn't believe how much Robin had spoken up for her and trusted her enough to have her watch over Max. Jonathan had trusted Argyle enough to watch over Max as well. They didn't know the girl at all or the others, but Vickie was learning quickly that these people were family and they would do anything for each other. It was so clear to see.

"I don't like them either," Argyle spoke up.

Vickie stopped humming to Kate Bush, the music that was currently playing in the hospital room, and looked at Argyle, who stood on the other side of Max's bed.

"Pardon?" Vickie asked.

"Guns," Argyle said, raising his own. "You had this weird look on your face, man, I thought it was the guns. I hate having to use them, but I will if it means protecting this girl."

"I was just thinking about how close these guys are," Vickie said.

"And you feel like you're intruding a little even though they put their trust in you?" Argyle asked.

"Yes! How'd you know?" She asked.

"I'm more than just a pretty face, Lady Vickie," Argyle said, and then he paused. "I feel the same way, too. It feels odd. They all have this history, and I feel like we're both coming in during the final inning. . .did I get that right?"

"Yes, well, I'm glad I'm not alone in feeling this way. I know it's not the most important thing, right now. . .I just feel weird, and I'm glad to be helping here, but I also wish that I was out there with Robin and helping her, you know? I mean, what if she dies? What if I die and I never get to tell her how I feel? But again, there are more important things to worry about right now than that, but then I think about her lips and the fact that she rambles just like me - do you know how many people have told me to just shut up and that no one cares about what I think and the fact that Robin understands that, that she makes me feel like I'm not the only one in the world who does that, who's not a freak for talking like this - and holy shit, I just came out to you before coming out to Robin! I don't even know you!" Vickie exclaimed and slapped a hand over her mouth.

"It's alright, I get it. I'm the same way with Jonathan. I'm still not sure if he's still with Nancy or not," Argyle said. "We're both lone wolves with a shit ton of anxiety. I wanted so badly to help him with that when he first moved to California. . .this adorable boy, who looked completely out of his element. I just wanted to hug the stuffing out of him. We both had shitty dads and were both raised by a single mom with a ton of anxiety because of it. No one ever really wanted to be my friend before because people think I'm too weird, and I say stupid things, but most of it is just me trying to brighten people's day. School sucks, I just thought I could make their day, but it took me a long time to realize that they were laughing at me and then pretending to be my friend for my weed. Jonathan was never like that. He was my first real friend. He actually thought I was funny, and I didn't need to try so hard to be funny around him. I didn't have to be afraid when the laughter stopped with him."

"So, you drove him all the way from California to Indiana and risked your life doing so?" Vickie asked with a soft understanding smile.

"Wouldn't you do the same for Robin?" Argyle asked.

"I would," she said sweetly.

Argyle and Vickie shared a knowing smile with each other. It was nice to know that she wasn't alone with feeling this way, and she was starting to feel relieved that it was Argyle she had been stuck with. . .happily stuck here with. Vickie stared at Max's prone form and Argyle's eyes followed her line of sight.

"I hope she wakes up," Argyle said.

"Me too," Vickie said softly and touched Max's fingers. "Hey, I know that you don't me, but my name is Vickie, and this here is Argyle. We're looking out for you while your family is out there fighting for you. No pressure or anything, but I hope you're fighting just as hard as they are. I know my word doesn't mean anything to you because we're complete strangers, but I want you to know that we're going to fight just as hard for you."

"You should listen to her, man. She knows what she's talking about," Argyle said to Max. "And not just because she's also a redhead like you."

Vickie grinned, flashing her dimples at him. Suddenly, their radios crackled to life.

"Fuck! Goddamnit! Demogorgons in the hospital - stupid, Callahan!" Powell's voice said. "One is heading your way, Miss Fisher and Mr. Argyle!"

They had been guarding the entrance to the hospital along with some of the people who served and people who just wanted to fight. Vickie and Argyle paled. He raised his gun and faced the door while remaining on that side of the bed. His long hair was braided and out of the way. It was startling to see his usual soft face suddenly become hard. Vickie shook her head and turned away from him, pointing her own gun at the door. They heard the sound of the demogorgon coming closer, and then they heard it trying to get in. There were tons of objects blocking its path, and she hoped it was slowing it down. Heart pounding in her chest, she managed not to jump when it finally burst through the door. It opened its face and roared.

Vickie and Argyle began to fire immediately. The force of the bullets stunned it for a moment, and it flew back into the mirror that was hanging in the room. Shards of glass fell onto the floor. It only pissed it off. Argyle's weapon ran out of bullets, or it jammed, she wasn't sure. Either way, he tossed it aside and threw his entire body on top of Max's.

"You have to get to me before you get to her, asshole!" Argyle yelled as its claws swiped at his leg, causing him to bleed.

Vickie kept firing, but she ran out of bullets, too. The demogorgon roared again and moved closer, stumbling on the glass. It was bent down at an odd angle now. She saw a shard of glass on the ground and swiped it up immediately. Vickie used the hospital bed as a jumping off point and wrapped herself around its back. She plunged the glass into its neck, not caring that it was also cutting into her hand. Vickie screamed as she stabbed the thing in the neck repeatedly. She did a lot of damage, but it wasn't what stopped it or made it collapse. She fell to the ground with it, and a moment later, everything started shaking. Vickie moved to sit against the hospital bed, Argyle sliding down to sit next to her. She took Argyle's hand with her cut up one and held onto it tightly despite the pain. The shaking stopped a few minutes later.

"Do you think it's over?" Argyle whispered.

"I hope so," Vickie said. "I really hope this means it's done."

"The demogorgon is dead, so I think so," he replied.

"God, my hand is fucked up," Vickie whimpered.

"Yeah, so is my leg," Argyle said.

"We're quite a pair, aren't we? I think I know what this means now," Vickie said. "We're what Steve and Robin are, I think. What's that word. . .it's completely fallen out of my head."

"I think you're in shock, man," Argyle said. "So am I. I could go for some purple palm tree delight right about now."

"Yeah, me too," Vickie said and paused. "Wait, what's that?"

"Weed," he replied.

"Ah, never had any. . .always wanted to try, though," Vickie said.

"I'll show you the ropes," Argyle said.

"Thanks," Vickie said and winced.

"Platonic!" Argyle exclaimed.

"That's it," she giggled.

"I can't believe that I had to come to Indiana in the middle of Apocalypse to find my platonic soulmate," Argyle said.

"I feel like that should be on a shirt," she said and winced again. "God, my hand!"

"I have two good ones. I'll let you use my other one as long as you give it back," he said.

"Done. As long as you are willing to use my leg and give it back to me when you're done," Vickie replied.

They both burst into laughter, which is how the others found them after they came screaming down the hallway with news that they had won. They froze at the sight of them laughing and looked in confusion at the pair. Steve and Robin seemed to somehow get it, though, smiling at them in understanding. The smile slipped off of Robin's face when she saw Vickie's hand.

"Oh, my God! Vickie, your hand!" Robin exclaimed.

"I'm fine now that you're here," Vickie said as Robin knelt down next to her.

"Argyle! Your leg!" Jonathan exclaimed as he rushed over to him.

"All I need is a little bit of purple palm tree delight, and I'm good to go, man," Argyle said. "Also, Vickie wanted to try some."

"What the fuck? Who's there? It's fucking dark. . .can someone turn on the lights?" Max's voice startled everyone.

Lucas was by her bedside in an instant, jumping over the dead demogorgon to get to her.

"I'm here, Max," Lucas said.

"Lucas. . .?" Max asked. "Fuck, I'm blind, aren't I?"

"I'm here, Max," Lucas whispered as he placed his hand on her cheek. "I'm here."

The next morning, Vickie had woken up before anyone else. They were all at Steve's house, the base of operations doubling as a shelter as well. She was sitting in the kitchen, staring at her bandaged hand that was resting on the island. She wiped the tears away with her unbandaged hand, and then she hurried to clean her face when she heard familiar voices coming closer.

"I really think you're doing it on purpose, Robin," Steve said as he walked into the kitchen.

"My mother herself told you that I've been kicking in my sleep since the womb. You were warned," Robin said, following him.

"Whatever, I'm up now," Steve said. "Oh, hey, Vickie. Are you an early riser, or does your dad kick in his sleep, too?"

"No," Vickie giggled. "By the way, thanks for letting us stay here."

"You're welcome. The more the merrier. Although, I wish it were under better circumstances," Steve said.

Vickie burst into tears and threw herself into Robin's arms.

"I dreamed you were eaten by a demogorgon, and I couldn't save you!" Vickie sobbed. "And I never got to tell you how much you mean to me that I like you how I like boys, which I guess means I also like women. It's weird but a good kind of weird, you know. I mean, I should have known when I kept pausing on Phoebe Cates's boobs, you know?"

"You know, I'm going to go. . .somewhere else. Uh, I'm cool with it, by the way, Vickie," Steve said. "I'm bisexual too."

He left the kitchen. Vickie pulled back and stared at Robin.

"I'm bisexual?" Vickie asked.

"If that's what sounds right to you. . .I'm a lesbian," Robin said. "I like you how I've always liked girls. It's weird but a good kind of weird."

"You like me?" Vickie asked softly, sniffling.

"I really do. You absolutely drive me crazy in a good way, and I like the way you laugh, especially when I make you laugh. I like the fact that you have a good heart and you're willing to go out of your way to help people. You went above and beyond for Max. You and Argyle both. I love the fact that you ramble like me because I know I'm not the only one who does it, who's not alone in getting odd looks from people when you just can't stop the words from escaping. You make me lose my words more than anyone, and I honestly could just sit here rambling forever. . .to know that you would be there rambling with me would be a dream come true. You're the girl of my dreams, Vickie Fisher," Robin said.

"You're the girl of my dreams, too, Robin Buckley," she whispered. "You know. . .I think I've finally run out of words."

Robin grinned, picked her up, and set her on the counter before stepping in between her legs. Vickie's heart leaped into her throat, her stomach full of butterflies now. She wrapped her arms around Robin's neck and drew her in for a kiss. Her lips molded against Robin's perfectly, her lips as soft as she thought they'd be. There were so many good things to do with your mouth. . .talking, kissing. . .oh, she definitely liked kissing Robin. A euphoric feeling filled her up, from her toes to her stomach to the top of her head. She wrapped her legs around Robin, her hand running through her hair, and nibbled on Robin's lip. Vickie smirked when she let out a moan. Everything around them no longer existed. It was just Robin and Vickie wrapped up in each other. Robin. Robin. Robin. It was the only word floating around in her head. Suddenly, the door to the kitchen burst open.

"Oh! You got the girl!" Argyle said cheerfully. "Way to go, my dude!"

Argyle and Jonathan stood in the kitchen with Steve breathing heavily behind them. Vickie noticed that Argyle was holding Jonathan's hand.

"I see you got the boy," Vickie grinned.

"Hell yeah!" Argyle exclaimed and high fived her. "Well, we'll get out of your hair. Jonathan had a bad dream, so we came in here for a glass of water."

"Oh, don't feel like you have to leave. The kitchen is a common area," Vickie said.

"What are you guys doing up so early? I mean, besides making out in the kitchen," Jonathan said.

"I had a bad dream, and apparently Robin kicks Steve in her sleep," Vickie said.

She looked at Robin and smiled, loving how flushed the other woman looked. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Robin grinned.

"I don't think I'll be able to get back to sleep," Robin said.

They all gathered around the island, and for a moment, there were no words needed. It was just the feeling of being around each other, knowing that you weren't alone after everything you've been through. Sometimes words were needed, and sometimes they weren't. Vickie enjoyed the feeling of having Robin in her arms. They didn't talk or ramble. . .they had the rest of their lives to do that. Vecna was dead, Hawkins was saved, and his victims freed from his grasp. Eddie's name would soon be cleared. Yeah, people were dead, Max was blind but life constantly showed you that things could always be worse. Vickie felt like they could get through this together. She could fight the nightmares, knowing that she had her newfound family by her side. Strange how quickly that happened.

[spicysix]

anywhere u go

Argyle had no idea the living nightmare he was getting himself into when he first decided to follow Jonathan Byers. Well, he'd do it again in a heartbeat anyway.

rating: T

warnings: this fic includes weed, the teeniest hint of ptsd, questionable informations about the united states' AND the canadian's geography from a brazilian writer (so, probably, mistakes. look past them pls), also questionable english by a brazilian writer not beta-read, weather as a metaphor, and subtle pining.

word count: 5.6k

author's note: title from the song of the same name by Tove Lo. written for Lex's Spicy Six Summer Fanwork Challenge, for the dialogue prompt “I’m really glad we did this”. thanks for hosting this amazing event @thefreakandthehair ♡

↳ read on ao3

If someone asked him, Argyle wasn’t sure he’d be able to retell the whole thing.

And, sure, maybe you could blame the weed a little bit. He might have partaken in it a few times here or there during the whole thing. It was right there in the van! How could he say no? Not at any of the big moments, though, of course not. He’s a stoner, not an idiot. He only smoked twice on the road when Jonathan was the one driving, that hotbox he did with Eden, beautiful goth goddess of his dreams, and once to prepare the pizza during the whole freezer piggyback thing (he likes being high when working in the kitchen okay, don’t go away judging). When they got to Hawkins, he only collected mushrooms, didn’t do them. He didn’t even have the time.

It wasn’t any kind of substance that made the next few weeks go by hazily.

It was just too much.

Chaos was installed when they arrived in Hawkins. Earthquakes had ripped open wounds into the soil of the small town — living, squeamish, bleeding wounds. Argyle learned later they were portals to the dimension under their own, where all the problems surrounding his friend’s family came from in the first place.

People were missing and hurt, some even died with the way the gates tore through houses and buildings, and the mood around Hawkins as they drove through it was rightfully sour.

Jonathan drove to his girlfriend’s house, some other people were already there and it was a beautiful reunion, it really was, but Argyle felt out of place. They parted ways after, and the ones that had been there already headed to the High School to drop some donations — except for Nancy, who went inside the van and into the passenger seat as if she owned it.

It had been Argyle’s.

But it was okay, he stayed in the back with the kiddos.

They went to the hospital, one of them — the one Supergirl had mentally piggybacked on — was hurt and in a coma. Argyle waited in the van as the rest of them went in to see her — he didn’t know her, didn’t want to invade their space.

After the visit they headed to an old cabin in the woods, abandoned, destroyed, pieces of its ceiling missing. Jonathan said Supergirl used to live there with her dad, the dead cop, and while they all reconnected and cleaned up the place, Argyle found those mushrooms that he didn’t use.

Didn’t even have the time to, because suddenly it was snowing ashes and he found his friend and his friend’s family — including his mom and a tall skinny bald guy, where did they come from? — looking over the city from the hill and the open field, and the flowers were dead and there was smoke coming from the place where all the portals met downtown.

Too much happening at the same time, and suddenly Jonathan was grabbing Argyle’s wrist and pulling him back to the van, “let’s go get the others, oh and by the way the tall skinny bald guy is the dead cop, oh and by the way my mom went to the Soviet Union to rescue him, oh and by the way the world is ending.”

So they went back to the hospital, to warn the siblings that were keeping watch over the comatose redhead, but they didn’t wanna join them back. Told Jonathan to reach through the walkies if he needed them.

So they went to the school, found the pretty guy and the cute girl that looked and acted like siblings plus the small curly one, pretty guy told them all they could go to his house cause it was big and clean and empty and they could use it as headquarters. Nancy shivered at the suggestion, her jaw tensed and Jonathan looked at her with caution, but they all agreed anyway.

So they went to pretty guy’s house, it really was big and clean and empty — all sadly so. The ones coming from California took their much needed showers, un-dead cop called a friend of his and told him to come meet them, the kids reached out to the siblings in the hospital to let them know where they all were.

It was too much.

Argyle set the water of his shower to the coldest temperature he could bare to try and shock some sense into himself. Looked at his reflection in the mirror and if it wasn’t him, he wouldn’t know all the shit that guy went through that last week. Government agents dying in his work van that he ended up stealing, a superpowered girl he helped rescue, an evil dimension with an evil wizard, people in comas and people coming back from the dead, gates to the underworld burning through a small town — and how he got roped into all of that by following a friend across the country.

He’d say he was a pretty good friend at that point.

He waited in the living room with the others as everyone went through rotations of showers, and cute girl made him a sandwich and it was nice of her, Little Byers sat by his side cause he was one of the only people who knew Argyle, and it was nice of him. When Jonathan arrived all cleaned up and smelling soapy, he sat by Argyle’s other side and Argyle felt himself relax if only a little.

They waited until un-dead cop’s friend showed up, and for some reason he showed up with two other Russian guys and a government lady and oh boy was Argyle even more confused.

Everyone took their turns retelling their own stories and gluing all the pieces together, and it was a somber story, it was bad as a horror movie and Argyle kind of wanted to throw himself out the window and get in the first bus back to California but he had no one there and in here he at least had the Byers. They were a good family, the closest to one Argyle had. So he stuck around through the puzzle.

Once in a while they referenced something that had happened in the years before and Argyle didn’t get the references because he hadn’t been there but he was sure Jonathan could fill him in later. Or he wouldn’t, and Argyle wouldn’t mind that either because it would at least save him from nightmares.

There had been losses, some friend of theirs in Hawkins — small curly one seemed to be the most affected by it, and Supergirl’s boyfriend was also really upset when he learned the news. Besides him, other three teenagers were victims of the evil wizard, plus their friend who survived but was in a coma.

On their side, a doctor dead and a doctor missing — apparently captured by the side of the government that was trying to kill Supergirl, that government lady said. Not her side trying to kill Supergirl. Another side. But apparently the doctors could help and it was relevant to know about their situation. The parents didn’t seem to agree a lot, and neither did Supergirl.

Un-dead cop’s friend made a joke about how at least on their side only bad commies had died, but the joke didn’t land. They weren’t in a nice mood for jokes.

It was too much, everyone talking about terrible things happening and talking over each other and Argyle’s head was about to explode in pain so at some point when they were all going through the timeline for the third time, he escaped and headed outside through the front door.

Jonathan found him after a couple of minutes.

“Is this too much?” he asked, and Argyle nodded. “I’m sorry. Wish we could smoke right now,” he said.

Argyle hummed, “It’s gonna look real unprofessional of us if we do, though, right?”

“It really will.” Jonathan chuckled, but it was dry and humorless.

They just stood there in silence for a few minutes, and Argyle’s fingers were trembling a little and maybe it was abstinence, probably was, but the clouds were fucking red and the smoke still made ashes rain down and it was terrifying.

“We should go inside,” Jonathan said after a while.

Argyle sighed and followed him in.

Over the next week they all hung out almost exclusively in pretty boy’s house (pretty boy’s name was Steve, Argyle learned. He dated Nancy before Jonathan did. They had a weird thing going on) and planned for the next step they’d take into, hopefully for the last time, saving the world. Well, it was Argyle’s first, but it still counted right. The kids called their parents and they all seemed to trust the old teens to be good babysitters even during the apocalypse, plus Ms. Byers and the un-dead cop were of course to be trusted.

Argyle was mostly tuned out of everything, but that was okay, firstly because he was the last one to join the mess and didn’t know the details as well as the rest of them, and it wasn’t a good use of their time to explain it to Argyle time and time again when they could be plotting strategies. So Argyle took over pretty boy Steve’s kitchen and kept his battalion fed and strong for battle.

The other reason he kept tuned out was, of course, so he wouldn’t freak the fuck out.

Keeping himself entertained with cooking — and, not going to lie, a little weed here and there when they found it — was the only thing still keeping him from that original plan of throwing himself out the window and catching the first bus back to California.

Sometimes the rest of the Party — as they called themselves, what a weird bunch — would help or at least keep him company. Un-dead cop’s friend (un-dead cop was Hopper, friend was Murray) was a great cook as Argyle already knew from that risotto, but he was also really weird and gave Argyle the creeps. Ms. Byers kept telling him to call her Joyce, tried her best in the kitchen and her food wasn’t bad, but it also wasn’t good. He liked talking to her, though. Cute girl — pretty boy Steve’s platonic soulmate, Robin — was real funny and a delight to talk to, but a fire hazard personified and not allowed near the stove. Steve could bake some mean breakfast and he was also really cool, Argyle didn’t know why Jonathan was so adamant about keeping a grudge.

“You’d like Eddie, he was a dealer,” Steve said one night as they sat in the backyard staring at the pool and smoking what was left of Argyle’s purple palm tree delight. “And he for sure would like you, and this.” Steve waved the joint around before handing it back to Argyle. Steve’s smile was sad, and Argyle hadn’t known the guy so he didn’t know how to feel or what to say. So they just kept smoking.

Nancy was how Argyle found out about the whole story between her, Jonathan and Steve — and Argyle understood partly why Jonathan held a grudge. Steve was a nice guy now though, Nancy said and Argyle knew it was true because they talked and smoked a lot late at nights, but it wasn’t his place to tell Jonathan how to feel about his girlfriend’s ex who called him slurs, physically fought him and then saved his life more than once. It was a tough spot, alright.

The kids were something else. He barely saw the siblings — Lucas Erica, the ones at comatose redhead’s, Max, bedside. They were, all three of them, constantly brought up, though, and it almost made it seem like they were there all the time. The small curly one, Dustin, seemed to think he was touched by god’s wisdom at all times, and it could be funny but it could also be a little annoying. He was pretty Steve’s favorite, though. That was interesting. Little Byers (Will) and Mike — Supergirl’s now ex-boyfriend — had something going on but Argyle wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what. Jonathan went grumpy anytime they were together, and his older brother protective act was amusing.

Supergirl — Jane, El — was Argyle’s favorite though, and there was no competition there. She was weird and tiny and badass and adorable and a huge menace, not only in the way that she could literally blow things up with her mind, but because she could be a little troublemaker kid in the best way a kid should be a troublemaker in. She was sweet and delicate and just so fucking little, and her shoulders were too tiny to hold all the weight they carried, so Argyle did his best to bake her the frozen waffles she loved, told her funny exaggerated stories so she’d laugh, gave her tight hugs whenever she needed them. It was sad that she needed them a lot. But she always thanked him and told him his hugs were the best hugs ever, so he’d hug her once again before letting her go. He liked that she smiled a lot near him. The world owed her more smiles, and he was glad to take that task.

Jonathan did his best to make Argyle feel like he was part of it all. Argyle wasn’t so sure if he even wanted to be a part of it all in the first place, but since he was dragged to it without any other option, he was glad he at least had Jonathan by his side. He chose to pair up with Argyle when they were assigned guest bedrooms in Steve’s big house so Argyle wouldn’t be alone, even if he could be with Nancy. He never scolded Argyle for smoking because he knew Argyle did it to cope, to calm down, to get less stressed and anxious — and he knew the situation was stressing and anxiety-inducing as hell. He never complained if Argyle didn’t participate in their planning sessions because he knew Argyle’s lack of previous knowledge would probably just slow them down, and once during the night he said he’d do anything to leave Argyle as out of it as he could, that he felt guilty for bringing Argyle into all of it in the first place.

Argyle blamed him, it really was kind of Jonathan’s fault, but he also forgave him.

He forgave him the second after it all happened.

He would probably follow Jonathan anyway even if he knew beforehand where he was headed to.

He followed Jonathan into the final battle against that slimy, evil, twisted, disgusting son of a bitch. He followed Jonathan with homemade armor and homemade weapons, and a courage he didn’t really have. He followed Jonathan, El, Will, and Joyce — and all the rest of their weird, codependent, brought together by disasters, wrecked and beautiful found family. He was stuck with them now forever, he knew it. He wasn’t complaining. They were his family now, too.

But that specific day, that was the one that was the most blurred out. Maybe it was a coping mechanism that his fucked up brain came up with to give him a rest, or maybe it was his brain too fucked up from all the weed usage, but he was glad either way. If someone asked him, Argyle was sure he wouldn’t be able to retell the whole thing.

It was way too much. He was glad he didn’t remember.

They were all alive and sore and bruised and hurt after it, and they all still stayed in Steve’s big house — to make sure they were all together if it wasn’t really over, and because they healed better as a pack. The government lady had found her lost doctor sometime in the middle of it all, and the whole Party got some good deals out of everything. Argyle wasn’t even going to be sued by Surfer Boy Pizza for stealing a company van. He actually got to keep it, and he took out the surfboard from the roof, took out all the company stickers, cleaned it up real good and it ended up looking like a regular beautiful yellow van where no man had ever died inside.

El seemed to have lost her powers for good this time, but she was relieved. Will was never haunted by the creepy chills in the back of his neck again. Max woke up, and she was blind and would probably never walk again, but she was so grateful. Argyle cooked her favorite food — information provided by El — when she was released from the hospital, and of course she was led straight to Steve’s house. She didn’t know Argyle before the apocalypse almost took her away, but she thanked him with a beautiful crooked smile of a girl who defeated death, and everyone surrounded her with love and warmth and everything was almost perfect. They were acting like the kids they were. They were allowed to, now. The only thing they’d have to worry about from now on was school and homework, the occasional regular teenage problems. No more evil scientists, no more evil wizards, no more evil dimensions. Just, a bad grade in Latin, or having an unrequited crush, a pimple in the middle of their foreheads. Argyle was so happy for them.

Jonathan and the rest of the older ones also got to go back to normal. Steve and Robin’s only worry was finding a new job. Nancy and Jonathan finally talked it out and resolved their issues — by breaking up. Nancy would go to Emerson, Boston, as she wished, and Jonathan didn’t want to and it was fine. They had grown too much, apart from each other in the few months they were away. They didn’t need to be each other’s grounding points anymore, because they could find other people and find themselves and worry about regular young adult stuff like a bad grade in Journalism 101 or the fact they were out of weed or photographic film.

Jonathan wanted to go to New York.

Argyle could get on the first bus back to California, but he had no one there and that was okay, because here he had Jonathan. Jonathan, who Argyle crossed the country for, who Argyle walked into Hell for, who Argyle would probably follow anywhere.

So Jonathan decided to go to New York, and Argyle decided to follow him.

They took the renewed regular yellow van where no man had ever died, belts buckled in for the first time ever because they valued their lives a whole lot now. They took an atlas from Robin’s collection, a few pre-rolled joints Steve bought from god knows who, a bunch of snacks the kids gathered for them, clothes they borrowed because they ran away from California with no bags, and a tight hug from each and every one of their weird, codependent, brought together by disasters, wrecked and beautiful found family.

They took the I-69 to Indy, the I-70 to Pittsburgh, the I-76 to Philadelphia, and the I-95 to New York. Twenty hours on the road was nothing considering it took them three days to get from middle-of-bumfuck-nowhere (Nevada) to middle-of-bumfuck-nowhere (Indiana). They took turns driving, stopped for gas and lunch and dinner and a smoke session, slept in the back of the van in a parking lot until they weren’t high anymore, arrived in New York as the sky was pouring down on the city.

“The rain is nice,” Jonathan commented as he looked through the window in the passenger seat.

It hadn’t rained in Hawkins ever since the world almost ended. No matter how many times they showered, bathed, scrubbed all the grime and dirt and blood away, sometimes it still felt like they weren’t clean. The town was definitely still dirty.

“The rain is nice,” Argyle agreed.

They kept driving around, they got trapped in traffic, they got screamed and horned at, they laughed back because it felt nonsensical to be mad about cars in streets. They stopped at a diner, ate a bunch of eggs sunny side up, to counter the weather, watched the regulars and the waitresses and the cook in their routines, and they smiled at each other because it was so nice to see normal things for once. People living their normal lives. Not a single one of them aware that the two weird kids in the corner booth almost died so they could be spilling coffee on the counter and getting their mouths dirty with grease.

They asked for a cheap recommendation on a place they could rest, drove a little more, got a little more trapped in traffic, got a little more yelled and horned at, until they found the shitty motel that the waitress promised was decently cleaned no matter how fucked up it looked on the outside. But their expectations bar wasn’t high, anyway. They had two beds, separated by a tiny nightstand table, and they fell asleep turned to face each other, curtains open and bathroom lights on because the darkness couldn’t be trusted.

Next day emerged with the clouds all gone, the weirdest of contrasts, and a chilly wind kept throwing Argyle’s hair to all sides and Jonathan kept looking at him with a soft smile whenever it whipped his pale skin. They left the van in the motel and walked and walked and walked until their feet hurt, had no idea where they were going and no exact place to go to, a joint shared and their fingers touched and their mouths wrapped around the same paper. It was nothing, and it was everything.

They watched people passing by, everyone in such a hurry, people scowling and people smiling and people somehow with their expressions completely neutral. People living their normal lives, not a single one of them aware that the two weird kids walking shoulder to shoulder almost died so they could be running to catch the subway or signing for a cab to stop.

They managed to get back to the motel, took their showers, scrubbed scrubbed scrubbed and still felt unclean, collapsed on their separate beds again, turned to face each other, curtains open, bathroom lights left on.

Jonathan wanted to go to NYU.

Ever since he was six years old, he told Argyle. The Tisch Photography program was a big one, his dream ever since he had a bowl cut worst than Will’s, when his father was still home and his mom wasn’t overprotective because none of them knew monsters existed just under their feet.

Jonathan’s eyes gleamed as he spoke about the university, so Argyle offered and Jonathan agreed, and the next day Jonathan hopped on a subway train and Argyle followed him.

The subway was too much, Argyle noticed. He shared a look with Jonathan over someone else’s shoulder and knew they were thinking the same.

They went south south south to Greenwich Village with its pretty brownstones and its artsy students roaming around, so many of them, and Jonathan stopped across the street looking at the Tisch building for a long time, inconveniently in the middle of the sidewalk, his fellow hipsters having to walk around him. Argyle looked at Jonathan the whole time, saw it firsthand as his gears turned, as the gleam in his eyes faded, as the wrinkle in his forehead deepened.

“Too much?” he asked.

Jonathan nodded. “For now, at least.”

Argyle just started walking and Jonathan followed, and they just walked across Greenwich Village until they were at the pier and they looked at New Jersey from afar, all the ferries crossing the Hudson, people still in a hurry all the goddamn time and Argyle’s fingers tapped against the railing that was there to stop him from falling into the water. He kinda wanted to do it just to see what it would feel like. He lost track of time staring at the water, and the boats, and the people on the boats living their normal lives, not a single one of them aware of the two weird kids on the pier that almost died so they could cross the river on a daily basis; and he felt Jonathan staring at him and maybe it should’ve been the other way around.

“Wanna try again?” he asked after, maybe, hours, and Jonathan nodded.

They walked back, Jonathan stopped inconveniently in the middle of the sidewalk across the street, stared at the Tisch building for what wasn’t longer than a minute and a half.

“Too much,” he decided.

They took the subway back north north north to the motel, took their showers, scrubbed scrubbed scrubbed and still felt unclean, collapsed on their separate beds again, curtains open, bathroom lights left on. Jonathan turned away and slept looking at the wall. Argyle slept looking at Jonathan’s back.

Sun was still out bright the next day.

They went out silently for breakfast at a café a few blocks down, heard the weirdest fucking story told by the people sitting at the table next to them. One look at each other and they were back at the motel, into the van, across the bridge, east east east into Long Island and clouds started to appear the more further east they went.

Montauk sure had that creepy energy hanging in the air, as if everyone was constantly waiting for the shoe to drop, but it somehow didn’t feel as world-ending as Hawkins did. Jonathan whispered that if Will was there, he’d probably be scratching his neck by now.  They kept heading east, into the State Park, to the lookout, out of the van. Stared at the ocean. All that amount of water, the vast nothingness of the view and the wide greatness it contained, and it should’ve been too much but Argyle let out a long sigh and breathed in deeply, a single drop of rain touched his forehead and it felt good.

They went back to the van, back to Manhattan, back to the motel, took their showers, scrubbed a little less, collapsed on their separate beds, curtains closed, bathroom lights left on, turned to face each other again. They said nothing. There was a constant hum from somewhere outside the motel, in the neighborhood, that lulled them to sleep. Argyle thought he heard Jonathan call for him but when he opened his eyes again Jonathan was snoring lightly. Argyle smiled at the view and fell back to unconsciousness.

Clouds were back the next day.

They checked out of the motel, Jonathan took the seat behind the wheel, headed back to I-95 again and hit the pedal hard. They drove for about half the time as they did from Hawkins to New York, never leaving the I-95, looking through the windows as they drove past New Haven, Providence, Boston, plus some stupidly small and completely forgettable towns in Maine.

They only left the I-95 when they passed the border, when the Highway didn’t exist anymore.

“Will they know we have weed?” Argyle asked as they were growing closer to the customs. They only had a single joint left, but it was worrying anyway.

“Don’t think they’ll check,” Jonathan answered, and he didn’t seem bothered at all.

Argyle doubted they would be able to cross, he didn’t even have a passport, but Jonathan was thankfully right. The guard asked for their drivers’ licenses only, where they were headed and what they were doing —  Jonathan said they were on a roadtrip. When the guard asked how long they were planning on staying, Jonathan said “enough days to see a bit of the three east provinces”, and that’s when Argyle was sure the guard would tell them to turn around and get the fuck out, back to bumfuck-nowhere, Indiana. But he just nodded as he inspected the photos on their documents, and when he handed them back along with a pocket-sized canadian atlas he said: “Have fun.”

And that was it.

Argyle’s shoulders dropped from where they had situated above his ears as Jonathan waited until the customs couldn’t be seen from the windows anymore so he could hit the pedal hard again, this time on what they called the Trans-Canada Highway (information provided by the pocket-size atlas gifted to them by a random and kind government employee).

Jonathan drove for about an hour and a half after they crossed, and Argyle’s sudden drop of adrenaline made him doze off for a while before he woke up as Jonathan was parking at a motel. He looked around, saw some signs, picked up the pocket-size atlas from where it had fallen off to the floor of the van.

“You wanna stay in…” he checked the atlas, “Fredericton, New Brunswick? This was your destination all along?” he asked with a grin.

Jonathan chuckled. “I’m just tired for today. But I wanna keep going, actually. If that’s okay?” his eyes were suddenly filled with doubt, and oh no, Argyle couldn’t have that.

“Absolutely, my man. Point where and I’m headed right behind ‘ya,” he was smiling, and his tone was light-hearted, but he was being the most honest he ever was.

Jonathan seemed to get it, because he was looking back at him with that reserved soft smile of his and Argyle’s brain went a little fuzzy, but it was probably from the nap he took.

They went inside the motel, finally, got their bedroom with two beds, separated by nothing but a few inches, and Argyle’s first instinct was to actually bring them together so they’d be just one big bed, but he restrained. They took showers, didn’t really scrub a lot, collapsed on their barely separate beds, curtains closed, bathroom light left off, turned to face each other. Argyle fell asleep with a smile on his face, and if he didn’t dream it, Jonathan had one of his own on his lips.

Next day was more than cloudy, it was pouring rain again.

Jonathan sat behind the steering wheel once more, hit the pedal and they headed east east east, so far east that Argyle feared for a second that they were going to reach the border of the world or something. They crossed New Brunswick and almost reached Nova Scotia, but then Jonathan took a sharp turn north.

“An island, man?” Argyle asked as they crossed the bridge to Prince Edward. Jonathan just shrugged, but he was smiling wider than Argyle had ever seen him smile before. Not bothered at all. It was a good sight to see.

The capital city was on the southeast, but Jonathan kept going north again. It seemed like they were almost at the end of the island before he finally stopped, at some stupidly small and completely forgettable town.

“This place has probably half of the citizens of Hawkins,” Argyle noted.

“I need a phone,” Jonathan said.

His smile didn’t falter.

They found the single Bed & Breakfast the town had to offer, asked for a bedroom — it only had one bed, they didn’t mind and neither did the young lady in charge —, they asked to use their phone, “How much is a phone call to Indiana, you think?” Jonathan asked Argyle, smile turning into a wicked grin and Argyle had definitely never seen that, so the only answer he could come up with was a loud laugh.

Jonathan dialed.

Argyle saw the lady had a bong on her table, so he lit up their final joint.

They waited for the phone to be answered.

Jonathan’s eyes never left Argyle’s, and their wide smiles were like mirrors of each other. Argyle had no idea what Jonathan was up to, clearly no good, but Argyle was down to it anyway. He’d follow Jonathan in whatever disturbed plan he had, to whatever edge of the world he wanted to go to.

And, finally:

“Hop, hey, it’s Jon. I’m in Canada. Yeah, you heard it right, Canada. Do you think Owens’ FBI friends can do us a final favor?”

⟿

Argyle looks out the window.

In the reflex, he sees Jonathan, his head on Argyle’s shoulder, and he’s also looking out the window. It’s been like this for a few months now, just the two of them, in tandem, doing the same things. Synchronized. It feels good, the best he ever felt. Jonathan’s skin is warm against Argyle where their arms touch, and he smiles without even thinking about it. It’s been like this for a few months now, smiling around just at the thought or sight of Jonathan. It feels good. The best he ever felt about someone.

“I’m really glad we did this,” Jonathan mumbles against Argyle’s shoulder.

This: a trip along the coast to a different country? This: bribing the government for a new beginning in a town so small and forgettable that no monster, human or not, could find them again? This: getting a house of their own, a fucking boat and a fishing license, a truck they could drive down to Charlottetown on good days?

This: falling in love in the process?

Argyle’s not sure what Jonathan is referring to. He’s really glad too, either way.

Argyle looks at their small world out the window.

It’s Sunday morning, commerce is all closed, streets are empty. The sun is covered by clouds, a summer thunderstorm approaching, and he can see the sea from here. There’s no one at the beach. The waves look nice. All that amount of water, the vast nothingness of the view and the wide greatness it contains.

It’s not too much. It’s nothing at all, actually, and it’s everything.

And it’s perfect that way.

[lovipop2049]

basically jargyle

wow i'm so good at making memes guys

[theglitchywriterboi]

I hope Argyle is in season 5.

Also for people asking for his last name, they didn't give him one cause OBVIOUSLY it's gonna end up being Byers when him & Jonathan get married 🙄

[hawkinsharlot]

argyle's height

i don't know why, but eduardo frano's height seems to be a mystery lost to the depth of the internet, and since i can't find his height, we don't entirely know what argyle's height is though the series. so, after some extensive research (i took 5 mins to google some pictures), i headcanon argyle to be about 183 cm (6'0ft), give or take.

and here's why

in these two photos of jonathan and argyle, we can see their height difference is pretty different. the top of jonathan's head is about level with the bridge of argyle's nose or right around his eyes. while we don't know argyle's height, we do know charlie heaton's height to 172cm (5'8ft)

while my prediction or headcanon is no where near completely or totally accurate, i put in jonathan's height on a height comparison generation and matched it to the difference to what argyle and jonathan's height difference is.

and this is what i got.

so yeah! in short, i think argyle would be around 183 cm or 6'0 tall. please do with this information what you with, jargyle fans :)

[imactuallyreallycool]

What a lovely dream

But that what it’ll always be. A dream.

Close ups and stuff lmao