serpent pride*

[scrpentprince]

ncrthernheart:

Archie’s brows furrowed at Jughead’s answer. He didn’t know what to say to ‘not really’ when every moral lesson he’d ever been taught was that ‘no mean’t no’. He drummed his fingers along his friend’s ribs in contemplation, though his mind wasn’t doing much but running circles around one pervasive idea. 

“Well yeah, but like, it’s not that important,” he said, common sense prevailing through the hazy fog of rum and hormones. Staring at Jughead for a moment, realization dawned on Archie’s features like a blooming flower the longer he was allowed to process the hesitance on Jughead’s face. 

“Are you…. Like, you’ve done this before, right? With Betty?” He supposed that was the wrong question, since he was pretty sure not even he had done this before with Veronica. Or Val. Or Grundy. Or Cheryl. The glaring different jabbing him in the gut brought heat to his cheeks when it occurred to him that he didn’t really think enough about what he was about to get himself into. 

He felt the muscles in his jaw tighten as he gritted his teeth. Lying still seemed to be a viable option. He could still pretend that he was just joking, that of course he did things with Betty, that while he was obviously a loser, he wasn’t the high-school-senior virgin kind of loser. But he was afraid he had already said too much and Archie’s mind not quite hazy enough anymore to actually believe that. 

Exhaling a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, he turned his head to the side, pushing his hair back while simultaneously trying to avoid eye-contact at all costs. “No”, he admitted soberly after another long beat, eyes focused on something in the darkness.  He wasn’t even sure if explaining would make it better or worse. 

“I, uh-” He stopped himself there, swallowing thickly in hope of regaining his usual eloquence. “I never actually wanted to do anything. With anyone.” Did that make sense, not wanting to have sex? To Archie (and most other hormonal teenagers for that matter), probably not. Forcing himself to look back at the other, he tried to school his voice into something sure and steady, as if having Archie this close to him wasn’t enough to make him lose his cool already. “But I want this.”

[scrpentprince]

ncrthernheart:

Archie batted his eyes when Jughead grabbed him, momentarily snapping him out of his lustful trance. He didn’t really know what had come over him, but refused to blame it on the alcohol. Okay, maybe he should’ve blamed it on the alcohol. His body was burning up like furnace against Jughead’s, the instinctive repulsion that he thought all guys should’ve gotten while pressed flush against each other was severely lacking as their legs slotted together like two pieces of a puzzle. It felt… okay. Better than okay. It felt like suddenly every story that had ever been told to him about picking a suitable girl for marriage sounded like it was missing something critical.

He didn’t know what to say. 

“Yeah?” Archie slid his palms up Jughead’s sides until they were at a respectable level on his ribs and sunk down onto his chest. He could feel Jughead against his belly as he propped his chin on his sternum, eyes turned up at him and mirroring the uncertainty on his friend’s face. He pursed his lips. “I mean, I’m pretty frisky. Aren’t you?”

It would have been almost too easy to lie to Archie, to pretend that he and Betty did things that never happened or maybe he could exaggerate on what happened between Toni and him or just pretend that his time with the Serpents had lead to all kinds of wild encounters. But would that be right? Would Jughead Jones really lie to his best friend just to get into his pants? Of course, he wouldn’t, his badass jerk persona safely tugged away in the closet in shape of his Serpent jacket.

Was Jughead frisky? No. Honestly, he always assumed he’d never even want to get frisky. But now, that he was lying in bed with Archie (or rather lying in bed, under Archie), it was hard to deny that he wanted this, considering that denying that he wanted this wasn’t the only thing that was hard right then. 

“I’m not really?”, Jughead admitted after a long beat, brows furrowed and voice uncertain as he spoke, silently praying that Archie would somehow pick up on what he meant, that somehow he could escape the dawning embarrassment of having to use the much-dreaded v-word. Bringing his hands up to Archie’s shoulders, he looked him in the eyes, his blush only deepening. “I still want to do this if you want to,” he added quickly, not quite sure if there was even a coming back from how awkward the situation turned.

[scrpentprince]

ncrthernheart:

If someone had told him that he’d wind up making out with Jughead in his bed that evening, Archie might’ve laughed and thought about it a couple times before filing it away under ‘ridiculous notions’ (a folder that was admittedly very small, his weak self-restraint considered).

Archie met his enthusiasm with fever, finding that the whole experience was far less awkward than he thought it’d be. Jughead’s mouth was soft and wet and warm like any other, but his body was… different. There were no curves or slopes to entice his hand downward, only smooth, sleek lines that drew down Jughead’s long torso and into his lengthy limbs. Archie’s face glowed at the thought of length and limbs when his brain naturally migrated towards whether all of Jughead matched the rest of him.

“Jug– Jughead. What are we doing?” Pushing himself up with his palms, tearing himself away from Jughead felt like a far more monumental task than he thought it’d be. He wore exhilaration on his face, eyes wide and awake and mouth gaping as he tried to catch his breath. Deja vu struck him like a bag of bricks, reminding him of the last time he’d gotten in bed with someone he really shouldn’t have had. The guilt didn’t so much gouge into him as it had the first time, but rather pawed at him gently as curiosity got the better of him.

Archie glanced down between them, smoothing a hand down the S on Jughead’s chest before hooking a finger under the waistband of his pajamas and tugging down just enough to glimpse at the skin underneath. His cheeks dimpled, eyes lit with interest as they flicked back up to meet Jughead’s.

Jughead sighed again, displeased this time at the loss of contact, barely resisting the urge to just pull Archie back down again. Panic danced across his face at Archie’s concern, washed away for just a second when hands roamed down his body, making him shiver and tinting his cheeks and chest and shoulders with a deep red blush. What were they doing? Something that should not be happening. 

His hand darted forward, grabbing the other by the wrist. “Arch,” he said, his voice soft and uncertain, insecure almost as he looked at him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want this. It was the opposite. It was that he wanted this so much, had thought about exactly this happening while laying in bed like this (alone, of course, which was the key difference) more often than he would have liked to admit.

But now that it was finally happening? He was feeling half a million things at once. Doubt, obviously. And worry. Nervousity, of course. A pang of guilt. And still, none of those things were strong enough to outweigh the want, the need. The issue was that the only thing he needed more desperately than Archie was something he used to think was never going to happen, Archie wanting him back. He didn’t want to be just another bad choice, another thing he would grow to regret. “Are you sure you want to do this?”, he asked, silently cursing how shaky his voice sounded as he looked up at him with a questioning look.

[scrpentprince]

ghculking:

“Jughead!” Malachai’s voice threatened to break with almost childlike glee as Jughead Jones stepped through the door into his lair, a mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes. “The Serpent Prince back in my humble court. What an honour it is to have you.” Talking a like a royal came more than natural to the leader, especially when he was seated on the sofa right across the door, girls and boys surrounding him, all casually lounging with Malachai as the center of his own little universe. “Welcome back to the House of the Dead.” A ring-adorned hand gestured around the room, before he snapped fingers, giving his minions queue to scatter and give him room to stand up.

“Please, follow me,” he asked with a bright smile, arms opened welcomingly before he turned around and started to navigate through the house. “Actually, when I offered negotiations I expected your father to come. If I had known it was you, I would have spent less cash on booze.” Accommodating to his guests was just common courtesy, even if they were alcoholic serpent scum. Or it would have been at least if this was more than a jab at Jughead’s issues. Of course, Malachai had not for a second believed that the Serpent King would give him the honor to show up. That old man was way too smart to happily walk into a trap as obvious as this as easily as his son did. Leading him down the steps to the cellar, he lead the wannabe heir to the Serpent legacy into the dark, gloomy room that doubled as his office. Walking to his large black office chair, he motioned at one of the empty seats on the other of the hardwood desk separating them. “Sit.” 

@scrpentprince

There was a certain uneasiness creeping up on Jughead whenever he entered the House of the Dead, the air feeling sick with more than just smoke that left his head spinning. The scene in front of him felt so cliché that for a second he questioned whether he walked onto the set of a movie, Malachai on the sofa, surrounded by Ghoulies drawn to him like moths to a flame, heeding his every word. “Malachai,” he said simply, his voice vaguely biting and internally complaining about Malachai’s last name being King because his disdain wasn’t quite obvious enough when using his first name but there was also no way to call him King derogatively. 

He swallowed thick, shoulders stiff as he wordlessly followed Malachai down into the cellar, the tension only rising. “My father is busy. I’ll have to do,” Jughead said, brows raised as if barely impressed as if the snide comment about his dad’s drinking habits wasn’t enough to make his blood boil.

He barely would have thought it possible that there was a place more uncomfortable than the ground floor of the drug den, but the office in the cellar sure was worse. Decorated with cheap skull decor in sickening abundance with furniture made from black leather, it looked like a thirteen-year-old’s definition of edgy, but even that hilarious observation didn’t help with the knot in his stomach as he sat down. “So, you wanted to talk. You mentioned a deal?”

[misterturnip]

scrpentprince:

If Jughead thought his heart had been racing before, he was sure it was now threatening to break through his ribcage. The room suddenly felt stuffy, the heat of Archie’s skin burning rather than calming and his persistence in following him to the edge of the bed making him feel like he couldn’t breathe. 

This was something he shouldn’t do. Even ignoring the jarring possibility of what this could do to their friendship, Jughead’s conscience had its mind made up about how wrong this was, about how he was taking advantage of his best friend, of his intoxicated naivité (that somehow managed to outdo his regular naivité which up until that point he would not have thought to be possible). It was the hand on his hip that made his mind go blank, not managing to hold on to his doubts. 

He swallowed thickly before he managed to find his voice. “It might? Just to get even, you know,” he said, finally thankful for all those years of practicing like he didn’t care at all to hlep him gloss over the fact that he could not possibly answer the question of wanting this. 

Just to get even. Archie laughed aloud even if he didn’t know exactly what he was laughing about. Kissing Jughead wasn’t a joke nor did it feel like ‘getting even’. What it felt like was long overdue and the question when why he’d never done it before struck him repeatedly through adolescence when he started to really notice girls. 

Rising up onto his elbows, Archie bobbed forward clumsily in the dark in search of Jughead’s mouth. Forehead, cheek, nose. He planted so many terribly wet kisses that missed the mark by such a long shot that one could’ve sworn that he was doing it on purpose to make up for lost time. His incessant insistence that he’ll ‘get it this time’ after smacking another onto Jughead’s face held little conviction when he kept bursting into laughter, body shimmying closer each time until he was strewn on top of him like a blanket.

Archie hesitated after pulling away from Jughead’s brow, tension bleeding between them as he brought a hand to his friend’s cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of Jug’s bottom lip for a pregnant beat. The sound of laughter died in the darkness, replaced by the steady beat of two racing hearts as he dipped down and placed a tender kiss right on his mouth.

[scrpentprince]

Jughead couldn't help but giggle with the way Archie pressed his lips against him over and over again, peppering his skin with kisses the way it was peppered with moles. It was dumb and immature and silly and perfect in a way that had him feeling truly 18, a lot more like a dumb teenager than he had in a long time.

Archie hovering above him, hand on his face and growing suspension between them reminded him of the first time he played with matches, moving his hand closer to the flame to see how far he could go before pulling away. He remembered how many times after that he was told not to play with fire, but how else did you tell of something was hot but by touching it?

Jughead flinched when their lips finally touched and figured that despite the fiery red hair Archie was nothing like a flame, because with Archie he wouldn't pull away, wouldn't care even if he scorched him.

So Jughead didn't pull away. Instead, he just lay there, eyes fluttering shut. He didn't even move, not until he sighed into the kiss, sighed because this was what he had wanted so badly for so long and now that he had it, he wanted more. Left hand on Archie's side, right hand on the nape of the neck, he held him close, urged him closer even. His tongue brushed against Archie's lower lip, greedy and needy, begging for him to allow the kiss to deepen, not caring how much it shook the fragile foundation of their relationship because how could this be wrong?

[scrpentprince]

ncrthernheart:

Even through the thick veil of intoxication, Archie could detect the bite to Jughead’s voice. Or maybe it was because of he intoxication that made him giggle at it, like it was funny or something. He didn’t suspect that Jug would’ve appreciated that much, but Archie couldn’t help it when Jughead sounded so grave about one small kiss.

Humor ebbed away to leave a loaded silence as the smile wilted lieu of something that might’ve resembled seriousness if Archie had the ability to lay still for a moment. “Do… you want to be kissed by me?” he asked, sounding not unlike a bashful school girl as he shrugged in an attempt to mask his nerves for indifference. (As if Archie could ever be indifferent.)

“We could, you know. Kiss, I mean.” The way he was squirming suggested that his head was already doing leaps and bounds as to what that might’ve lead to. Giddiness rocketed through him as he scooted into the gap Jughead had made between them, his eyes lit with mirth so bright that it was obvious what he was thinking when he looked at his friend’s silhouette. He brushed a hand over the jut of his hip, in case he missed it.

“It’s not a big deal, if it’d make you feel better.”

If Jughead thought his heart had been racing before, he was sure it was now threatening to break through his ribcage. The room suddenly felt stuffy, the heat of Archie’s skin burning rather than calming and his persistence in following him to the edge of the bed making him feel like he couldn’t breathe. 

This was something he shouldn’t do. Even ignoring the jarring possibility of what this could do to their friendship, Jughead’s conscience had its mind made up about how wrong this was, about how he was taking advantage of his best friend, of his intoxicated naivité (that somehow managed to outdo his regular naivité which up until that point he would not have thought to be possible). It was the hand on his hip that made his mind go blank, not managing to hold on to his doubts. 

He swallowed thickly before he managed to find his voice. “It might? Just to get even, you know,” he said, finally thankful for all those years of practicing like he didn’t care at all to hlep him gloss over the fact that he could not possibly answer the question of wanting this. 

[scrpentprince]

ncrthernheart:

Jughead’s icy hand was a relief against the scorch of his skin and Archie wasn’t shy about moving it up his torso, rucking up his t-shirt in the process. His cloudy rationale begged for comfort and the cool splay of fingers on his chest was just the thing. Maybe it should’ve occurred to him that it was kind of weird to lay in bed, all tangled up in one’s best friend like lovers but he’d been conditioned from years of Betty and Jughead to know better than to think that Alice cooper wasn’t on the other side of the door with her ear to it. Or that it was in anyway uncomfortable. He didn’t think laying this way with Jughead could ever be uncomfortable.

“If it’s fine, then why do you seem upset?” Archie asked, his eyelids blinking stickily as he batted his eyes atthe darkness. He couldn’t see a thing, but he didn’t have to see anything to sense something amiss. “Are you mad? It didn’t mean anything, I swear. Betty’s my best friend and so are you. I’d never do anything on purpose to jeopardize that. I love you guys.”

Archie wiggled impossibly closer until he could feel Jug’s presence a mere inch from his face, hoping that he could rub off some of his drunken cheer onto his friend. “Besides, I’ve kissed a ton of people. Pretty sure the only people I haven’t kissed yet are like, Reggie. And Dilton but that’s because I think he likes Betty and thinks I’m like, competition or somethinge.”

Jughead felt the heat rising in his cheeks, his face turning a soft pink color when Archie moved his hand up his body, dragging it across warm skin stretched over lean muscle. Where puberty hit Archie like a truck, it hit Jughead like a small child on a scooter, still leaving him skinny and scrawny in all the places Archie got buff. Another little thing to be jealous about, just a little. Not the way he was jealous about the situation at hand though.

“Cut it, Archie. I said it’s fine.” He didn’t bother denying that he was upset. Not when his voice did such an amazing job of showing that he was, not when he inched away from him on the automatic, tearing his hand from his chest, breaking all skin on skin contact. How did he think that adding to the list of people he kissed would make this better somehow? That it would do anything but make Jughead wonder what was wrong with him, what was he lacking that all those other people had to feel Archie Andrew’s lips against theirs?

“You never kissed me,” Jughead pointed out blankly, a hint of an edge still in his voice. He didn’t know what he wanted to get out of this. Maybe he didn’t want him to get away this easy, didn’t want him to be allowed to pretend that this was just something that friends did. Maybe he wanted something else. 

[scrpentprince]

switchbladc:

Sweet Pea barely listened to Jughead’s explanation. Hunger drove him into the kitchen and for the first time, he actually appreciated how small the trailer was. Made it a lot easier to not seem like a dick when you got up to get some snacks in the middle of a conversation. Still, there was moment of silence when he searched through the fridge, finding some cold pizza (which was incredible, really. Sweet Pea never would have thought that leftovers and Jughead Jones could exist in the same place) and a bottle of beer he opened with the countertop, leaving a small dent he doubted anyone would notice.

Walking back into the living room, he barely glanced at the laptop before settling down on the couch again. “So you’re not friends with Keller, you’re barely talking to Andrews and Cooper. Did you actually have friends here or did you just say that to sound cooler?” Not like much of what Jughead said actually sounded cool anyway. Luckily, the smirk on his face softened that blow a little. He still noticed that serious expression on Jughead’s face and couldn’t help to match it, putting all banter aside. “What’s the course of action then?”

Jughead snorted unamused, not even bothering to reply to Sweet Pea’s joke. With everything he had on his plate right now, he wasn’t really in the mood for self-deprecating humor even if he couldn’t deny that the other Serpent did have a point. “For what?” There was a hint of resentment in his voice, not for Sweet Pea, but for the situation, for feeling helpless. “Finding out who the Black Hood is? Dealing with the merger? With Malachai and the Ghoulies? The Bulldogs? Being suspended?” 

There was a growing list of problems, problems people just expected him to know how to handle but frankly, he didn’t “Because either way the answer is going to be I don’t know, okay? I don’t know.” He sounded like a broken record at this point, constantly skipping from track to track, fromI’m just tired to No Serpent stands alone toI don’t know. 

[scrpentprince]

ncrthernheart:

Archie rolled when Jughead rolled, seeking his warmth like a blanket despite having kicked Jug’s duvet to the side once he got there. He hooked an ankle under Jug’s, locking their legs together in case Jughead decided to move again, deciding that enough of his brainpower was being siphoned into holding a coherent conversation that decency could be overlooked for a whole twelve hours.

He closed his eyes when Jughead gave him his answer, looking contemplative but having gone silent for so long that it was unclear if he’d dozed off for a second or not. “Yeah,” he said belatedly. Did he have a choice? The alternative was thinking that Jughead had chosen the Thug Lyfe over being there for his friends and it was a timeline that he didn’t really want to explore.

“Betty and I kissed that night,” he blurted next, as if it had made perfect sense in succession. “I didn’t mean to. It just happened and I think… that’s why Ronnie’s upset with me too. I’m really sorry, man.”

Jughead’s eyes flickered close, relaxing into Archie’s touch as he wrapped himself around him. Put arms around him, cold fingers brushing against the thin strip of bare skin where Archie’s shirt rode up just an inch. It made him realize how touch-starved he was, suddenly feeling an unusual sense of appreciation for the other’s intoxicated state that he could blame all this on tomorrow.

Jughead remained silent, teeth clenched and a pang of misdirected jealousy twisting up his insides. Misdirected because it wasn’t Betty he was jealous about, which only made him feel sicker. As if it wasn’t hard enough already to pretend that this was normal, being this close to Archie, his heart pounding like a drum without being reminded of how much he hated the thought of Archie kissing other people. 

He felt guilty, somehow. Rightfully so, he figured. Still, he decided to grit his teeth and play it cool. “It’s fine,” he lied, for the first time that night really thankful for the darkness, hiding his almost pained expression. “Thanks for telling me, man.”

[scrpentprince]

switchbladc:

That didn’t make sense to Sweet Pea at all. How was a rebelling teenager different from teenage rebellion? But then again, only half the stuff Jughead ever said really made sense to him, so this wasn’t exactly new to him. Which is why he, of course, decided to ignore it. “Because unlike you and Fangs I’m actually trying to get an education and shit.” He just rolled his eyes, not really expecting Jughead to understand. Fangs, however? Different story. 

“Nothing?”, he echoed almost surprised. With all the gloating about how he was so much smarter than the police, Sweet Pea expected him to have at least some kind of lead. Kicking off his boots, he sprawled out on the couch, watching Jughead type. “You’re friends with that Keller kid, right? Why don’t you ask him if his dad has any leads?” Not like he was encouraging Jughead to get with the pigs, but this was about a novel, not gang matters, so this should be okay, he figured.

Jughead wanted to scoff, the notion of Sweet Pea of all people suddenly caring about his academic future when he could probably count the times he had actually seen Sweet Pea in a classroom at Southside High on one hand. Still, it was a nice change, him trying to live up to his potential (potential that didn’t include brawls and switchblade skills), so he decided not to scoff.

At that, at least. Instead, he scoffed at the sole idea of asking Kevin for favors. Just because it worked for Betty, didn’t mean it would work for him. “Kevin and I aren’t exactly friends,” he said, once again forcing himself to pull his eyes away from the screen to look at him. “Not really the kind of person I can call in favors from.”

[scrpentprince]

piinktopaz:

          ‘ i didn’t say it was news, ‘ she said with an eye roll. ‘ it’s just worse than usual. dare i ask why such the late nights? you out sleuthing or…. staying in? ‘ 

toni didn’t mean it in a bothersome way - once she figured out that jughead and betty were solid, it was her job to tease him as much as possible. it was just the way they all were - give them hell to let them know you care. 

pushing the tray of fries toward him, toni watched jughead carefully. fp was still the boss, but for all intents and purposes, jughead was her boss - if anyone was capable of bossing her around. besides, serpents took care of their own, and that meant making sure the other was fed, got some sleep, and didn’t crash their bike when possible. 

her train of thought was interrupted by someone shouting for a beer. toni waved them off impatiently. she wanted to stay here and talk, and she was on her break anyway. 

          ‘ so, what IS new? ‘

“Staying in, mostly,” Jughead said, shoving another handful of fries into his mouth, taking a long moment to pick up on the less than subtle innuendo, rolling his eyes when he finally did. “It’s not what you think.” What a cliché thing to say. 

“I’ve been working on my novel. Trying to crack this case.” The resignment in his voice made his success at that more than obvious. He offered a smile when Toni surrendered her fries to him, smile turning into a smirk when she aggressively ignored her job. “You might just be the worst barkeeper ever, you know that?”

Her question had him pondering for a moment; what was new? “Not much? Being suspended is something that movies make seem a lot more interesting than it is.” Really, it was disappointing, quite like the first time he had detention in middle school and came to the heartbreaking realization that it was nothing like The Breakfast Club. His line of thought was interrupted by a yawn, a more obvious sign of how tired he really was compared to his ever-present eyebags. “Sorry. Archie stopped by last night. Didn’t get much sleep.” 

[scrpentprince]

ncrthernheart:

“I’d do the same for you,” Archie replied easily, cutting out the obligatory ‘bro’ at the end because it didn’t feel needed. Jughead was more than his brother, he was his soulmate. Conjoined by more than just fate, the secrets they kept between them kept them together above and beyond the scope of buddies. The vague memory of meeting Malachai in a dark place trickled in somewhere past revving engines and ominous business proposals. Archie furrowed his brows when he realized that revving engines and ominous business seemed to encompass pretty much every terrible thing in his life.

Archie’s eyes fluttered open to the dim lighting of the room offering nothing of value to him but the sheer veil of light illuminating every mole on Jughead’s cheek like a big map of constellations.

(What if he kissed one?)

He bobbed his head in easy compliance to Jughead’s request, too busy fighting sleep to fight his friend on the fact that he had come for sleep, but didn’t really want it when it’d  been ages since they’d last talked.

(Would it explode into a supernova? Or implode into a blackhole?)

Searching the nebula on Jughead’s face, Archie didn’t know how long it was before he spoke again, his sleep-hoarse voice cracking through the silence. “I ran into Malachai. He’s out now, did you know that? Says the Ghoulies want our heads. Your head.” 

He paused. “Were you doing something to the Ghoulies that night?”

“I know.” He knew. And it ripped his hearts to shred knowing that each bad decision he made put Archie in immediate danger, too. Because Jughead had something Archie was lacking. A self-preservation instinct, a drive to do whatever it took to survive. (Maybe they had that in common. Doing whatever it would take for Jughead to survive. What a scary thought.)

He was almost surprised by how easy Archie was to agree and then not surprised at all when he started talking anyway. Jughead just sighed and rolled on his back, arms crossed behind his head as he stared into the darkness.

“I told you so. I told you he’d be out in a matter of months and want to get even.” It seemed like an odd moment for an argument like this, for debates about who was right and who was wrong but that was not the point. The point was making Archie understand that Jughead knew this world, the world of gangs and crimes and revenge and that Archie’s action, however noble they may be, were not always right in this world.

“No.” He didn’t even have to think about it. it was the truth, as far as he knew (and he didn’t know half of it, nothing of the Snake Charmer’s involvement with the Ghoulies), Turning his head to the side, he looked at Archie again, trying to make out his features in the darkness. “Do you believe me?”

[scrpentprince]

switchbladc:

“Nothin’“, Sweet Pea said, shrugging off his bag and dropping it to the floor before he flopped down on the sofa. A few months ago, there would have been something weird about treating the gang leader’s trailer like a second home, but thanks to Jughead, that was all a thing of the past.

Now, he was more than careful sprawling out on the couch, phone in hand as he glanced over at Jughead. “Don’t tell me you are working on that stupid novel again.” It was a rhetorical question. What else did Jughead do, ever? “I hope you’re at least getting shit done now that you decided to go all out on the teenage rebellion and  don’t give a shit about school anymore.” This was way beyond an implied dig. Fuck did he care if Jughead knew how Sweet Pea felt about his sudden change in attitude. “Any actual leads about who that Black Hood copycat could be?”

“It’s not teenage rebellion.” Jughead scoffed, rolling his eyes heavily at the comment. It was so hard to defy authority when no one took you seriously. “It’s just rebellion that happens to be executed by a teenager.” His finger finally came to a rest on the keyboard, as he looked at his friend with furrowed brows, accusation heavy in his voice. “How come you are not with me and Fangs on this anyway, Sweet Pea?”

Still, it was hard to appear all salty and stern when being slapped in the face with obvious defeat, so he went back to typing. In silence, for a moment, before he sighed. “Nothing,” he admitted, obviously deep in thought as he reread the paragraph he had just finished. “And by that, I mean literally nothing. He’s completely untrackable.” 

[scrpentprince]

piinktopaz:

 @scrpentprince 

the whyte wyrm was louder than usual today. toni was behind the bar, serving up beers (which she was technically old enough to do now) and hoarding the snack mix rather than setting it out on the bar. she was waiting on an order of garlic fries and wings so she could take a break and try to get some reading done. riverdale high gave out way more homework than southside high - or maybe it was that teachers actually gave a damn about the homework. either way, it still felt like she was drowning in it sometimes after all this time. 

when jughead walked in, toni nodded at him before serving up three or four more beers. when the bell finally rang with her order, toni grabbed some extra napkins and grabbed a seat across from jughead. 

          ‘ no offense jones, but you look like shit. what did you do, fall off your bike into a puddle of bad day and then roll into a bush of not giving a crap? ‘

clever though she was, toni was actually concerned. jughead usually looked stressed to her, but still. this was weird. 

There was something odd about not being bound to the hours of a school day, something about not having to get up at seven in the morning just to be out until three in the afternoon. It was refreshing the first couple of days, but by now, it just left him with a lot of empty spare time that he didn’t quite know how to spend once all the movies on his list were watched and the lack of activities during the day left him with a lot less fodder for his novel.

So Jughead did what people do on the Southside when they have nowhere to be and nothing to do - he hit up the Whyte Wyrm. Casually greeting a few people on his way in, he quickly found a spot somewhere far enough away from the loud music and people yelling to hope that maybe he’d have some peace and quiet. 

However, once Toni came over to where he was sitting, it became apparent that peace and quiet would not be something he was getting that day. Not like he minded. He could use some company after all.

“And that’s news?”, Jughead asked with a self-deprecating snort, firmly believing that his deteriorating health and constant lack of sleep had become a staple of his aesthetic too long ago to still have people pointing it out. Grabbing one of her fries and shoving it into her mouth, he shrugged. “I haven’t been sleeping lately.” 

[misterturnip]

scrpentprince:

Jughead remained quiet facing Archie’s doubt barely smirking, really smiling by the time Archie snapped the first picture. It was dumb and stupid and Jughead was a beat away from arguing how selfies weren’t his thing. But there was something juvenile and pure about this, so he gladly played along.

“Sh!”, Jughead hushed him quickly when he laughed just a little too loud to be safe (and it broke his heart just a little when it seemed like it had been so long since he heard Archie laugh like that). 

It took a moment before he realized what it was that Archie was smelling. “It is,” he concluded finally. “It’s my shampoo.” He succumbed to the habit of tugging on a strand of hair now that he was a talking about it, a habit that he never quite seemed to be able to shake. At least, whenever he wasn’t his hat. That hat he had been wearing every single day for years now, which usually covered the sweet scent of his hair. Was he supposed to say thank you for noticing? To compliment something about Archie? (God, there were a million things he could have complimented about Archie.)

“You smell like a liquor store,” he said instead, somewhere between sullen and cynical and still settled for getting comfortable instead, arm lazily draped around Archie, heart pounding again. “Now sleep. It’s late as hell, Jughead sounded softer this time, relaxed, eyes already closed he seemingly scooted even closer, shamelessly using Archie for his warmth.

Archie murmured a lousy apology into the side of Jughead’s head, deciding that he liked the smell of Valentines Day a lot more than the Armani of Hiram’s office. It hadn’t really occurred to him until then, as he was swathes in the weird, junkyard smell of Sunndydale and Jughead’s cheap shampoo that he’d gotten accustomed to the musk of wealth.

He lowered his phone and squirmed closer to meet Jughead somewhere in the middle, throwing his booze-heavy limbs over his friend and snuggling him like a body pillow with little consideration for his comfort. Archie figured he could apologize later and blame his proximity on the alcohol. If FP could do it, then so could he.

(Only, he’d mean it when he said ‘I’m sorry’.)

It was silent for a moment as Archie settled in, the warmth of his cheeks and the sweet smell of comfort coaxing him towards gentle slumber.Then, he started again abruptly, mumbling quietly as if he were babbling in his sleep but the clarity in the words argued otherwise. 

“You know, I’ve been having a lot of nightmares lately. They’re so terrifying that I can never get to bed again after. I think the worst part about them is that you weren’t in any of them. Maybe it’s stupid but a part of me keeps thinking that I’m invincible as long as you’re with me, like reverse Kryptonite.”

He breathed out a humorless laugh, exhausted by his thoughts. “Where did you go the night we caught the Black Hood, Jug?”

[scrpentprince]

A lazy smile crept over Jughead's lips when Archie's limbs wrapper around him tighter. He could barely even move anymore, but figured it didn't even matter. He didn't want to move anyway. And if by tomorrow he'd feel sore from sleeping weird, that was a price he'd gladly pay if that meant he got to spend one night in the arms of the man he loved (like best friends love each other, of course.)

Jughead's heart broke for Archie as he spoke, reminding him of something that was too easy to forget sometimes; that suffering was no Southside privilege. There was little comfort he could offer, not when Archie was so reluctant to talk about his business with Hiram. "You know I'll do whatever I can to keep you safe, right?" A weak comfort when he very well knew that even just being friends with him put Archie in harms way.

"Does it even matter?", he asked, at this point too tired to really sound defensive. Instead his voice sounded almost bored and even he noticed how twisted that was. Jughead still remembered where he was. Penny's screams were etched into his memory, the color of blood, the feeling of a sharp knife cutting through skin with ease. The most twisted parted of it all was that he couldn't even bring himself to regret it, not when he did what it took to survive, to protect his dad and Archie and himself, still feeling righteous in his actions, proud almost. Not being with Archie that night. That was his only regret. "I'm here now." He quietly crept a little closer, craving the warmth and comfort, sighing. "If you have a nightmare tonight, I want you to wake me up, okay?"

[scrpentprince]

ncrthernheart:

Archie draped an arm around Jughead’s mass like it was the most natural thing to do and maybe it was after all the times Veronica had slotted herself into his bed with unpracticed ease. He always seemed to move around her like water but Veronica was a tiny person, leaving him underestimating the entirety of Jughead’s person so much that he wound up with so much more of Jughead in his arms than he had been anticipating.

Archie didn’t fight it too much though, after wriggling around and realizing that there was no part of the bed that would leave him not touching Jughead in some way. He embraced the proximity (literally) with aplomb, tipping his head until it was nestled on most of the pillow and against Jughead’s collar. Perfect.

His eyes shot open a the reminder, his hand flying up with the device in it as he linked blearily into the void. He frowned at the thin threat.

“You wouldn’t,” he complained. Jughead’s silence said the he definitely would’ve. 

As he turned the phone in his hand to power it off, a fleeting idea had him pausing with the device outstretched above them. Archie cocked his head, inching closer to Jughead as he turned on he front-facing camera and snapped a photo, with flash, effectively blinding the both of them. Immediately bursting into giggles, Archie looped an arm around Jughead’s shoulders in order to get a better shot.

(None of them turned out very good but Archie looked to be having a blast taking drunken selfies at various angles of motion.)

“Dude, you smell awesome,” he laughed heartily, his breath hot against Jughead’s temple. “What is that, like, strawberry? You smell like Valentines day.”

Jughead remained quiet facing Archie’s doubt barely smirking, really smiling by the time Archie snapped the first picture. It was dumb and stupid and Jughead was a beat away from arguing how selfies weren’t his thing. But there was something juvenile and pure about this, so he gladly played along.

"Sh!”, Jughead hushed him quickly when he laughed just a little too loud to be safe (and it broke his heart just a little when it seemed like it had been so long since he heard Archie laugh like that). 

It took a moment before he realized what it was that Archie was smelling. “It is,” he concluded finally. “It’s my shampoo.” He succumbed to the habit of tugging on a strand of hair now that he was a talking about it, a habit that he never quite seemed to be able to shake. At least, whenever he wasn’t his hat. That hat he had been wearing every single day for years now, which usually covered the sweet scent of his hair. Was he supposed to say thank you for noticing? To compliment something about Archie? (God, there were a million things he could have complimented about Archie.)

“You smell like a liquor store,” he said instead, somewhere between sullen and cynical and still settled for getting comfortable instead, arm lazily draped around Archie, heart pounding again. “Now sleep. It’s late as hell, Jughead sounded softer this time, relaxed, eyes already closed he seemingly scooted even closer, shamelessly using Archie for his warmth.

[scrpentprince]

ncrthernheart:

Archie shifted over on the mattress when Jughead asked, even if there wasn’t much room to shift over into. He was drunk and the least picky about his comfort when he was sober already which left his only concern about Jughead who was still hovering over him like an unscrupulous surgeon about to take out his kidneys with no training. He looked nervous and Archie couldn’t figure out why or whether he was imagining it, even as he plucked his phone from Jughead’s fingers. Nothing. 

After staring up at the shadow of Jughead’s face, Archie cocked his head curiously. “What’s the matter, Jug?” Archie patted the sliver of mattress next to himself, which, even with Jughead’s lithe frame, was a bit too scant for two grown boys without a little bit of overlap (cuddling). It wasn’t weird though, at least not any weirder than grappling other boys in spandex onesies. 

“C’mon, man, get in here. It’s cold.”

Where Archie had years of experience on pretty much every sports team the school had to offer to get used to casual close contact, this was still very much new to Jughead. Hell, he was still very much trying to get used to Sweet Pea’s and Fangs’ casual physical displays of friendship. This wasn’t the next step. This was a whole flight of stairs he was about to fall down. 

“Nothing,” he decided with a shake of his head followed by him pushing strands of black hair out of his face again before he got into bed. A little reluctant, lately. But he couldn’t deny that the warmth of Archie’s body against him helped with his nerves. Suddenly the idea of getting a full nights sleep didn’t even seem so unrealistic anymore.

Turning on his side to face the other, he raised his brows. “Your phone,” he reminded him with raised brows and just the hint of a soft smile settling on his lips. “You wanted to turn it off. If that thing rings at five am tomorrow and wakes me up, I will kick you out.”