#I was so caught up in the euphoria of you requesting Chloe/Louise

[jimmypesto]

for the valentine’s day prompt can u do wearing each other’s clothes + older, established chloe and louise?

Louise/Chloe + wearing each other’s clothes

Why did I put off doing the laundry until now?

Sunday Louise curses Friday Louise, who couldn’t be bothered after a grueling shift at the restaurant. Now it’s time to go grocery shopping, and all of her good clothes are dirty.

After an entire two minutes of searching her closet, Louise comes up empty. Every flannel, T-shirt, and stained hand-me-down in her usual rotation is crumpled in the hamper, leaving her with no viable clothing options.

She glares at her closet again, willing a new item to appear. Should she just wear one of her long sleeved shirts? The green one with the stripes? Nah. Tina got the worst of it, but she’s not immune to the genetic curse of heavy sweating. Anything with sleeves would be too suffocating now, in the heat of summer.

If Louise could do the laundry before heading to the store she would, but the deli closes at six and it’s already approaching 4:30. She’s craving Reubens, and she’s making them even if she has to show up to the store in her bathing suit.

Maybe she should just bite the bullet and wear a dirty shirt. She doesn’t love the feeling of grime sticking to her skin, but it seems she’ll be unhygienic either way. Unless…

She spares a glance at the other end of the closet. Lots of dresses—pass. A few strappy tops that Louise doesn’t trust herself to put on correctly—nope. Not happening. Fortunately/unfortunately, her girlfriend’s wardrobe extends far beyond the reach of their humble closet. Louise sighs, walking over to the dresser.

Reluctantly, she opens the top drawer. Unlike her own, Chloe’s designated drawers look like something out of a catalogue. Every shirt is folded nicely, no wrinkles in sight, and her pants are sorted by material.

“Blech.” Louise says aloud. “How do you wear this stuff, babe?”

Also in stark contrast to Louise, Chloe owns heaps of clothing. One week is far from enough to put her endless collection of crop tops, blouses, and cardigans out of commission.

There are a lot of pastels happening, because she went through a big pastel phase the previous spring. Logically, the pale colors should’ve washed out Chloe’s practically translucent skin, but her appearance defines logic. No matter what she wears, she’s the prettiest girl in the room.

Where did all this girly crap even come from? Louise thinks. Her dirty, B.O. covered t-shirts are starting to look better and better. Going out smelling rank is a far superior alternative to being caught dead in one of Chloe’s preppy tops.

As she heads for the laundry basket, she recalls the scent of soggy, mildewed dish rags already mixed in with her clothes. Shit. Maybe she can pretend it’s Halloween, and she’s dressed as, like, the biggest cliche to ever cliche. The reformed mean girl with perfect skin and daddy’s money.

Before she can resign herself to putting on something with a v-neck, Louise catches a glimpse of lavender folded in the very back of the drawer. A memory of Chloe hanging fairy lights in this jacket appears in her brain.

“Score!” She whispers, trying not to ruffle the other clothes as she’s pulling it out.

The color isn’t ideal, but a hoodie is gonna be Louise’s best bet. She knows it’s from some upscale boutique, so she’ll try to avoid spaghetti sauce for the day. It looks thin enough that it might even stay comfortable in warm weather.

Pulling it on over her bra, she decides to do a load of laundry before going out. Though Chloe’s jacket is surprisingly comfortable, she isn’t about to make a habit of wearing her clothes. The mere idea of her girlfriend seeing what she has on is mortifying enough.

Slipping out of the bedroom, Louise stops her keys from jangling as she grabs them off of the bookshelf. She snatches the hamper from the bathroom just as quietly, stepping through the living room where Chloe sits on the couch. She has both feet on the coffee table, painting her nails a demure pink.

“See ya, Chlo.” Louise says quickly. “I’ve got some business that needs attending to. Gotta see a man about some corned beef.”

Before she can make a hasty exit, Chloe speaks.

“Louise?” She asks. “Wait. Slow down. Something’s different about you.

Grinding to a halt, Louise braces herself. Chloe is always hinting about wanting to re-style her, and this is as close as she’s ever going to get.

“Different? Nope. I’m afraid you’re mistaken there, Chloe. All that perfume must be clouding your brain.”

They toss casual insults at each other all the time, so that one doesn’t phase Chloe one bit. She raises her brows.

“You’re wearing my jacket.” She observes. “Finally decided to step up your fashion game, huh?”

“It was this or Bam Bam, and he’s in the hamper.”

Louise found her favorite shirt at the thrift store: a gray top with a hideous clown drawing on the front. In red lettering, it reads “I eat children”. It’s funny on multiple levels, and it gets a rise out of Chloe every time. Hilarious.

“Gross. You could’ve asked before stealing my things, you know. I thought you left petty theft in high school.”

“A girl steals your lip gloss one time, and you never let her forget it!”

The image of sixteen year old Chloe scrambling for her missing item is still funny, even going on six years later.

“Whatever.” Chloe says. “You know…maybe you should wear my clothes more often.”

She surveys her, lips pursed in thought, and Louise feels a little bit like the prize pig at a county fair.

“That color is nice on you.” Chloe says, actual sincerity encroaching on her usual attitude. “Keep it.”

“What?” Louise asks. “Hey, I told you this was a one time thing! I don’t need your charity clothes.”

Chloe rolls her eyes.

“Babe, come on. It’s from three seasons ago. It’s like…the opposite of a big deal. Just take the stupid thing.”

Louise rolls her eyes just as hard. Sometimes she thinks it’s a silent competition they have, where they see who can roll them harder.

“God, thank you for the blessings you’ve bestowed upon me today. The great Chloe Barbash has deigned to give me her hoodie.”

Noticing the slightest peek of self doubt hidden under her sarcasm, Chloe’s face softens.

“It really does look good on you, Louise.” She says. “I mean, it’d be better if you let your hair down, but—“

Louise glares.

“Alright, let’s not get too carried away here. I’m doing the laundry now, and then I’ll never have to resort to wearing your things again.”

Chloe shrugs, returning to her painting, and Louise starts toward the front door. For the first time, she realizes the jacket is soaked in the distinct smell of strawberry perfume.

It smells just like Chloe. The same smell that washes over Louise when she leans on her shoulder or plants a parting kiss on her cheek. It’s girly and snooty and everything Louise hates. When she gets another whiff of her girlfriend’s signature scent, she suppresses a groan. This was a bad idea. She should never have put this dumb jacket on.

“How come you’re still standing there?” Chloe calls from the couch. “Did you forget something?”

Louise shakes her head, more to clear it than anything else.

“Nope. I’m all good. Allll good. No problems here.”

Chloe snorts.

“Whatever, weirdo. Buy the good raspberries this time, okay?”

Louise nods, but she’s still flustered. Damn it. She should’ve just worn something dirty. She should’ve done anything but put on this ugly jacket that smells like Chloe.

Because she knows, even as she tries to deny it, that she never wants to take it off.

#I was so caught up in the euphoria of you requesting Chloe/Louise #that for a moment I lived in a world where this wasn’t supposed to be Valentine’s Day themed #this was so fun to write thank you :) #bobs burgers