Summary: Sweet Pea and Mika continue their friendship, she’s finally opening up and he’s devouring all the pieces of her she’s willing to share. Will they finally claw their way out of the friendzone or just keep existing so close, yet so far out of each others orbits...
Warnings: typical angst
Author Notes: thank you so much for being patient this week, keep an eye out for another sooner, rather than later...and thank you v much for the continued love and feedback on our Sweeka!
Catch up here: issa masterlist
He waits on cloud nine and it's only a matter of time before he feels the expanding in his chest. Sweet Pea waits in summer sun for it to heat him up but it's not as sunny on the Southside, his mind made sure he knew that. It might not be as sunny on the Southside but she's dancing on her tiptoes and Sweet Pea’s heart is continually swelling.
She keeps him up in the sky, higher than he's been before, but Sweet Pea doesn't ignore the throbbing in his head. He pinpoints every single change in Mika, from guard up, closed off to free in front of him, from short whip-like remarks to open and messy, the way her eyes linger a little longer on his mouth when he talks. He wonders what her lips feel like, he quickly looks away when she meets her eyes with his, swaying with the music.
Mika keeps her bedroom door shut these days, she says she likes her privacy but he's allowed on the bed and sometimes on the chair in the corner. “Were you watching me, Sweets?” she asks.
He laughs nervously, panic stuck in his rib cage and more nervous flicks of his eyes away from Mika’s legs covered in plaid and the bare strip of skin between the belt buckle and her crop top. “No,” he says quickly. “I-ah-nah.”
She keeps moving, air guitar at her hips, hair flying in the air.
Southside's weight is heavy on his shoulders. He has that deeply etched metaphorical snake on his back. It's been there since the day he was born; even at this age Sweet Pea can hear the hisses of the crowd that follows him around. Those constant hisses in his ear. The sound that Southside makes against the cheeks of their enemies. Sweet Pea knows the price of Southside. And he's seen people pay.
He wonders if he's paying the price right now, because he's higher than high as he watches his friend dance in front of him, but he shouldn't feel this way.
XXXXX
Jughead Jones holds Sweet Pea’s hand up as some sort of tribute. The look of FP Jones's pride was so apparent on his face, Sweet Pea did have a tiny bit of pride in himself. But the longer he looks at his hand in the air with cracked, split knuckles and angry red blood, it just made himself feel that way too. Angry, cracked, split. “If it wasn’t for Sweet Pea, we wouldn’t be standing here today!”
FP sniggers and goes back to sipping his coffee, black, three sugars and reads through the newspaper that looks out of place here in the clubhouse. “Looks like you got him good, Sweets. What'd he do?”
Sweet Pea thinks of a string of lies he could tell, and then a string of truths. Sweet Pea can taste the truth on the tip of tongue, burning him, aching in his mind. But Sweet Pea doesn't want to say it out loud. This was the life that they were going to lead for the rest of their lives, their fathers told them so. Jughead is a born leader. That's how it is when you're the next in line for the throne of Southside. Sweet Pea can taste the truth: The Ghoulie paid the price for Southside after calling Toni a Serpent Slut. The sound of Sweet Pea’s fist on the Ghoulie’s jaw was something he would never get sick of.
“Tell dad what happened, Sweet Pea,” Jughead says dropping Sweet Pea’s hand.
FP grins, “Just make sure it was worth it because Serpents bite-”
“-Quietly,” Sweet Pea finishes. “I know.”
“You're not going to get in trouble, are you?” Toni asks, rubbing her hands together.
Sweet Pea knows that Toni more concerned about the noise he might have made in the Ghoulies. But she has nothing to worry about. “It was nothing, T,” he reassures her. “It was just something that came up.” He couldn’t tell his best friend the true reason behind him unleashing.
“You're not gonna stay?” Toni asks him.
“Going to pick up Mika,” he replies to Toni, giving her a courtesy kiss on the cheek. “Love you guys, have a good day!” he calls out for safe measure.
“Have a good day?” Jughead calls out. “Are you alright?”
Sweet Pea can't escape the look on Jughead’s face when the Ghoulies were shouting, or the way his body unleashed when they were talking about Toni.
He can't escape the anger that ran through him.
The look in that Ghoulie's eyes as Sweet Pea tightened his flannel and swung his right fist, smack, smack, smacking, the crunch of his jaw, the gritting of his teeth, the spit that flew out of his mouth.
Sweet Pea would do it all over again for any of the Serpents.
He'd do anything.
But right now, all he wanted to do was feel a little normal and at this point, the only normality he has is Mika.
XXXXX
“The whole of Southside smells like sweat, body spray and cigarettes,” Mika says, sitting at the outdoor setting at Toni and Cheryl’s.
“It smells like teenaged boys,” Cheryl agrees. “It’s disgusting.”
Jughead rolls his eyes. “I hate being here.”
Sweet Pea folds his arms and rolls his eyes as Mika meets them. “You’ve never complained at me.”
“Maybe you’re the exception?” she shrugs.
“Maybe you just don’t complain because I drive you around everywhere?” Sweet Pea snaps back.
“Give me your keys and I’ll drive myself then?” she suggests.
Sweet Pea smirks and leans back in his chair. “You wouldn’t be able to handle the Dodge even if you tried.”
“Is that a challenge?” she replies, raising her eyebrow. “Because if I can handle your ass, I can take on the Dodge.”
Fangs audibly swallows and Toni bites her lip, he can see her flicking between Cheryl and Jughead. “Got something to say, Fangs?” Sweet Pea asks.
Fangs shakes his head in a hurry and Jughead pulls his beanie down, a nervous tick that Sweet Pea knows off by heart. “No,” Fangs answers. “Nope.”
Mika smirks on the right hand side and sips at her drink slowly, Sweet Pea knows she’s not a drinker but he enjoys seeing her let loose a little when she’s with Toni and Cheryl. He sips his beer at the same time. “I’m sorry that I bought your baby into it,” she announces at Sweet Pea. “But I can’t back down from a challenge.”
“You’re the only challenge around here,” Sweet Pea mumbles which just makes Mika laugh.
“Was that a fancy way of saying I’m hard work?”
Sweet Pea bites his lip, avoiding her eyes. “You don’t exactly make things easy.”
“Wow,” Mika bites back. “Your passive aggression is remarkable.”
“I’ve been hanging out with you too much.”
Mika shrugs and Sweet Pea can feel all eyes burning through him. “You’re the one climbing into bedroom windows, not me.”
If there was ever a time where Sweet Pea wished he could disappear, it was right now. He could almost hear the jaws dropping on the patio area around him and he glares at Mika. “Fuck me,” he groans.
Toni’s eyes grow and she throws a bottle cap at Sweet Pea’s head. “You’re climbing into what now?!” she snaps.
Sweet Pea can see that Mika knows she’s stepped in it this time but she owns it by saying; “Nothing’s happened, T,” she mutters. “Sometimes we just get in late.”
Toni turns all kinds of maternal as she starts her lecture but Cheryl chimes in with a; “Hang on, but what is this exactly?”
“What is what?” Sweet Pea replies.
Cheryl shakes her head. “Come on, we’re all adults here, right? Are you guys a thing?”
Mika looks from Sweet Pea and back to Toni, gritting her teeth together. “We’re friends…”
“Friends,” Jughead laughs. “Friends dont look at each other like that.”
He lets his friends keep trying to decipher everything, he can’t deal with their nagging. But the look in Mika’s eyes tells him that she wishes they could get the fuck out of here too.
“Yeah,” Sweet Pea sniggers at Jughead. “You would know.”
XXXXX
The smoky haze was so thick, Sweet Pea was starting to feel a little claustrophobic. He feels eyes on them as they walk through the crowd, that metaphorical snake on his back hissing louder than ever as they saunter through the Whyte Wyrm and he feels Mika’s confidence grow bigger than ever, with all eyes on her, Mika is God and Sweet Pea knows it. She splits away when she sees Betty in the crowd.
Sweet Pea is a cocky kick in the air and a toothpick hanging out of his mouth but he wears that leather jacket as if it's his goddamn crown, he turns around, scanning the place for Jughead or Toni, anyone to get him out of here and he sees misplaced Louboutins on the floor up ahead, praying to the God of Southside that he could get out just for a moment. Veronica and Archie being here makes it even more of a shit fight for him to stay indoors and in Archie’s presence.
He leans on the bar countertop when he feels a hand tap his shoulder. “Sweet Pea,” Veronica says quietly. “Have you seen Jughead?”
He notices the quiet tone, and the look Veronica shoots towards Mika and Betty tells him that Veronica is in a hurry. “Ronnie,” he groans. “Don’t do this tonight, shit, woman, you got your jock and blondie here right now.”
Veronica’s lips purse as Sweet Pea feels all kinds of mature and wise when he talks to Veronica. “I just need to talk to him,” she says with widened eyes.
Sweet Pea screws up his face, folding his arms. “Talking leads to more than talking and I don’t have time to be playing bodyguard.” Veronica slaps his arm and he jerks back, rubbing the spot. “Shit, V!” he groans.
“Just shut up for a second, please,” she argues, rolling her eyes. But Sweet Pea notices that Veronica finds Jughead in the crowd. “Ill be right back, don’t wait up for me!” she says, patting his back.
Sweet Pea laughs, “Not doing that tonight, Veronica.”
He downs a drink and Betty and Mika are still standing in the same spot. He decides to move, hating the crowd a little more now that he was worried for Jughead. “Hey, B,” he says. “Can I borrow Mika for a second?”
“Of course,” Betty says, patting Mika on the shoulder. “I’ve better go and find Archie and Ronnie anyways,” she says with a groan.
Mika smiles at Sweet Pea as she says; “Thank fuck, I was about to suffocate in here.”
He chuckles as he puts his arm across her shoulders. “Too much for you too, Mimi?”
“Way too fucking much… Does Betty ever stop smiling?”
He shakes his head. “Nah, she’s awesome.”
“How the hell does she put up with Jughead?”
“The same way we all do,” Sweet Pea replies. “Let’s go out the back, I’ve got a blunt from Toni.”
The door slams loudly behind them but the muted music continues on as they climb up onto the back of his truck. Mika sighs loudly as she leans on the back window. “This is better,” she says softly.
“Hanging out with me?” he asks.
Mika elbows him. “Being out of that loud ass clubhouse.”
Sweet Pea clutches at his chest. “Oh, that hurt.”
She smiles at him. “And hanging out with you.”
Sweet Pea licks over the blunt before saying; “Damn, you’re starting to fall in love with me.”
Mika pauses and then laughs out loud. “I mean, that’s the word on the street, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, that shit’s crazy. I guess it’s the biggest thing to happen around Southside.”
“Or not to happen,” Mika corrects. They both sit in comfortable silence.
Just as Sweet Pea was about to spark up his Zippo, the back door opens again. Betty and Jughead walk out before seeing the other two on the back of the Dodge. “Are we interrupting something?” Betty asks, “Because if we are, we’ll head back inside?” she asks, throwing her thumb over her shoulder.
“No!” Mika says, waving at them. Sweet Pea drowns down the feeling of telling them to go back inside and instead moves over.
“You guys can join,” he says. “But we’re about to light this blunt so I hope you’re cool with that.”
Jughead helps Betty up and they sit down next to Sweet Pea and Mika. “You guys have the right idea,” Jughead starts. “My dad was trying to challenge Fangs to a shots comp and it wasn’t going well.”
Sweet Pea hands the blunt to Mika. “You do the honours, yeah?”
“Sure,” she says, placing the blunt between her lips. She flicks the Zippo and inhales, letting it take over her. “Betty?”
Betty eyes the blunt and blushes. “I’ve never been high before…”
Sweet Pea looks at Jughead in shock. “Jug!” he groans. “You’ve never got high with your girl?”
Jughead chuckles and looks at Betty, nodding to the blunt. “Take it if you want,” he tells his girlfriend. “There’s a first time for everything.”
Mika nods at Betty. “I mean, I don’t want to be the one to be the bad influence but Jug is right, there’s a first time for everything.”
Betty smiles at Mika nervously and takes the blunt from her. “Here goes nothing.” Betty takes the blunt with all eyes on her and she holds in the smoke as she hands it over to Jughead.
The blunt goes around the circle until they run out. “You okay?” Jughead asks, laughing at Betty.
Betty nods. “You’ve always been my favourite Serpent,” she whispers.
“Who?” Jughead asks, “me?”
“No!” Betty giggles. “Mika.”
Mika’s heavy eyes look at Sweet Pea as he lays relaxed on the truck. “Well shucks,” Mika says with a grin, “You’re awesome too.”
“That cuts like a knife, you know,” Sweet Pea says with his eyes closed. “I always considered you my favourite Northsider.”
Betty can’t control her laughter by this point and Jughead is amused smiles at her. “Imagine how I feel,” Jughead shrugs. “I always thought I was your favourite Serpent.”
“I’m sorry, dude,” Mika teases. “But she loves me more than you.”
“Fine!” Betty says, throwing her hands up in defeat. “I love you all equally.”
“That’s better,” Jughead replies, stretching out his legs. “Do you want to go home soon?”
“And risk the wrath of my mother?” Betty sighs. “Hell no.”
“Your mom will be pissed for you smoking weed, huh?” asks Mika.
“My mom will be pissed regardless. Things aren’t great with her,” Betty says with a frown. “Alice Cooper always finds something to complain about. That’s why I have to crash on Fred’s sofa tonight.”
“It’s okay,” Jughead reassures. “I’ll pick you up in the morning.”
Sweet Pea doesn’t miss Jughead’s eyes and he doesn’t miss the underlying message in Jughead’s voice. He’d known Jughead so long now, Southside was all in sync. But he leans back, briefly wonders where Veronica is and decides to relax.
Sweet Pea keeps his eyes closed as he listens to the other three chat, letting the peace take over for just a moment until Mika leans into his ear. “I think these two might be heading off soon… Or so I hope. I kind of want to relax.”
Jughead jumps off the tailgate. “We better go inside,” Jughead tells them. “Let’s go, Betts.”
Betty follows after Jughead and waves to Sweet Pea and Mika left on the Dodge, “See you guys tomorrow?”
“You will!” Mika replies, waving back. She puts her hand in Sweet Pea’s and he briefly looks down at their linked hands. He feels like he might be lighter than light in the passing moments with her skin on his skin. He wonders if maybe she's keeping him wrapped up tight in her because she's trying to keep grounded. And, he thinks, for her to be grounded by him must be something huge. Because it's not often that Sweet Pea feels like he's rooted in this earth.
They sit in a silence that Sweet Pea believes they’ve been waiting for all day. He feels her let her guard down, one that he’s chipped away at bit by bit. “You’re quiet…” he tells Mika.
She smiles at him. “I don’t have anything to say.”
“You’ve been smiling at me a lot today,” he says slowly. “I’m not complaining…”
She hushes him. “I’m trying,” she says softly. “The trust thing, I’m trying.”
Sweet Pea nods. “Don’t force yourself to,” he says sternly.
“I’m not…” Mika adds gently. “You make it a whole lot easier on me. Even if sometimes I still freak out.”
“Do you want more than this?” Sweet Pea starts, looking at Mika from the side of his eyes cautiously. But Mika reads him easily and she has a small smile playing on those lips he's wondered about a little too much.
She shrugs and flips his hand to look at his knuckles, tracing patterns on them.”Do you?”
For a split second, Sweet Pea wonders exactly what she means. But he’s snapped out of it when he realises she means more than Southside. “People assume I’m going to be Southside forever,” he answers weakly. “But sometimes I want to get out.”
He hates that he’s put his heart into words. Southside was everything and every part of him but sometimes he wants more than this. More than Southside or Riverdale.
Mika hums as she drags her eyes over his face, he can feel her reading his expressions and every single thing he regrets saying out loud. “Don’t worry,” she comforts. “I won’t tell anyone.”
He sighs with relief and keeps his eyes on her hand again. “I just hate talking in general.”
“Don’t talk if you don’t want to.”
“But I do,” he says honestly. “I do with you.”
She keeps the silence steady. Sweet Pea knows that Mika is just waiting on him. He closes his eyes again to ground him. “People think I don’t give a fuck.”
“About what?” she asks.
“Everything,” he opens up. “I tried so hard at school but it didn’t really get me anywhere. I try hard to get out of Southside but I always just seem to get a little deeper. I want to get out one day, see something. See the world, but that sort of thing doesn’t happen to people like us…”
“Yes it does,” she says, gripping on to his hand tighter. Sweet Pea keeps looking down but Mika reaches across to grab his face, forcing him to look at her. “You can get out if you want to, Sweet Pea.”
“I know,” he mumbles. Mika’s eyes are a light, caramel. He didn't think of the colour until now but he sees it in the dim light from inside. He closes his eyes.
“There's got to be more out there, Sweets,” Mika almost whispers.
His mind buzzes, there's more out there but he knows they shouldn't look any further than the Southside. “There's way more out there, Mika,” he tells her honestly. “And one day we'll get out of here.”
She smiles gently at him and leans her head on his shoulder, breathing deeply, making Sweet Pea match his breaths with hers. “We'll get out of here?” she asks, longing in her voice. “Move to the Northside?”
Sweet Pea laughs out loud and shakes the entire truck. “Baby, we'll go further than that, the worlds the fucking limit!”
“The world's the limit?” he almost hears a gasp in her words. “You really are a romantic.”
“Mika, since I’ve met you, I’ve never had so many dreams,” He says to her. He wonders if she can read his words because he's on his hands and knees now. “I don’t know how to say it, but it’s like you’ve opened my eyes or something…”
Several beats run through them on the roof of the trailer and a truck sounds it's horn in the distance. “That was really cheesy, you know?” she murmurs. “But you don't have to stay Southside.”
“Maybe I’ll go further than that,” he laughs, it's a lie but right here, right now. It's as close to the truth that he could get. Sweet Pea watches Mika’s hair fall into her eyes and he holds back the urge to move it. Lifting his hand before stopping himself. “Can I just…” he says.
Mika nods and he takes it, brushing her hair out of her eyes. “Thanks,” she says softly.
“You don’t need to thank me for being a decent human being,” he mumbles.
She laughs humourlessly. “I guess not,” she replies. “But I guess it just goes to show how fucked up I am.”
Sweet Pea frowns. “Don’t say that, Jesus Christ.”
“We’re both just trying to get through stuff, you and I.”
He nods. “We’ll get there, right?”
“Right,” she agrees. She lays her head on his shoulder again before looking up at him. “Thanks for opening up to me.”
Sweet Pea tilts his head to look at her resting on his shoulder. He’s almost shaking before he even realises what's happening and the grip Mika has on Sweet Pea’s hand is vice-like. With his free hand, he brushes strands out of her eyes again, soft touches on her skin, but she uses the grip on his hand to bring him a little closer and she leans forward. Sweet Pea can feel his breath stuck, deep down in the bones of him. Unsure of where to move or what to do, he's noisy breaths and she's soft lips but his heart slows down, his head tilts and he can almost taste the minty fresh of her chewing gum. “Are you sure?” he murmurs softly almost against her.
The door of the Whyte Wyrm slams against the wall and Jughead steps out with Veronica following behind him. “Fuck!” Sweet Pea groans, resting his head on Mika’s shoulder, fucking cursing Jughead to hell with his timing. Sweet Pea’s still burning from being so close to Mika but she just laughs, patting him on the head as he rests.
“Bad timing, isn’t it?” she whispers. “Or was it good timing? God knows this could have been a mess.”
Sweet Pea rolls his eyes to himself as he gets off Mika’s shoulder to look over at Jughead and Veronica, talking to each other in the dark. “I could fucking skin that idiot alive right now.”
Mika looks Sweet Pea in the eye. “Let me whip out the pocket knife,” she shrugs. “Because honestly, I could too.”
Sweet Pea can’t hide a grin as he listens to Mika but Jughead and Veronica pause at the door when they realise that Sweet Pea and Mika are still there. “Oh shit,” Jughead says quickly. “I’m just dropping Veronica off at home!”
“Whatever you say,” Sweet Pea shrugs.
Jughead and Veronica stand in the distance. “I’m not even gonna ask,” Mika says softly.
Sweet Pea rubs his face, head resting in his palms. “Please don’t,” he mumbles. “I don’t want to have to explain that shit.”
“I don’t think it needs explaining,” she muses. “I can read Jughead loud and clear.” Mika exhales loudly and drops her head back down on Sweet Pea’s shoulder. “Want to get out of here?” she asks. “I know a place we could go if you take me to FP’s to get my bike.”
“I’m just going to go and drop Veronica off,” Jughead shouts loudly, trying to convince Sweet Pea.
Sweet Pea rubs his face and shakes his head, standing up on the back of the truck. “It’s okay,” he calls. “We were just about to head off.”
Mika smiles sweetly at Sweet Pea as she goes to jump back in the truck. “Good timing after all, huh?” she whispers.
Sweet Pea shuts the door behind her and goes to the drivers side, slipping his keys in the ignition. “After I we get your bike, where do you wanna go?” he asks, waving out to Veronica and Jughead as they walk away.
Summary: Jughead kisses at the bend of her arms that are keeping him too-safe-steady grounded. Praying on his minds knees that they could stay like this forever. Forever, that’s all they both craved. To escape. To finally be free.
Warnings: angst, c’mon fam, this is Jughead Jones we’re writing about..also language and implied smut.
Author notes: thanks for all the love we caught on ch. 1! ch2 is here and more of Jughead’s pov... @veronicassadboi slayed it yet again xx
Jughead sits in shackle-releasing-bliss when she’s in his zone.
It’s a far-too-many-cracked ribs kind of feeling when Veronica isn’t around. Too-many-breaths-lost and heart-shattering kind of pain. Southside is the pits of hell when she wasn’t on his frequency and in his zone.
Jughead shoves the bitch that hides in his mind to the side when it reminds him of all the bad things in his world when Veronica was home with him. That’s what she is, he thinks, home, home, home.
Veronica brings a warmth to his thoughts when she stands in his all-worn-out trailer. The one the seeps pain from the walls and fucked-up-forgetful memories. The ones that carry his mother in the fucked up walls and still holds the trace of his dad’s favorite bourbon in the sheets. The way Jellybean cowered with him in the corner while his mom shouted about money. All the memories are fucked-up-forgetful when Veronica sighs when he sighs and laughs when he speaks. Pretty-ringing-words, he knows. She’s my pretty-little-everything.
She rings so pretty when she says; “Jughead, let’s get out of here.”
His bitch rings so loudly when it reminds him; she wouldn’t follow you anywhere.
That bitch that clings on with fucked-up-painful talons in his mind is so noisy when Veronica promises him forever. Because why would she even stay with him forever when he has nothing to offer her? Daddy sits in a picture-kinda-perfect-mansion that offers Veronica a type of forever that Jughead, even in his wildest dreams, couldn’t give her. There’s only so much love can pay for, he remembers. And sometimes love isn’t enough.
Veronica stands in front of him with legs that his fingers can’t dig into enough. His lips are licked-damp when they stick to her skin. He’s a desperate-tightened-chest as he licks too-dry lips, he can taste her very taste in the air around him when he digs nails into her thighs so tightly, she gasps against him. He may feel that he’s on a high so acute, that there wasn’t anything that he could take in his fucked up haze that would compare to the high Veronica gives him with her just being here. But his eyes open as her chest rests against him and his reality makes it apparent that he’s in the screwed up trailer with the girl who was worth more than life itself. Flickering lights from a broken bulb, peeling paper on the walls and Veronica Lodge leaning against him as he sits on a broken table chair. Ritual, he plays in his mind. Everything comes down to their ritual.
Veronica holds him close, bringing him into her. Drowning, suffocating, love, love, love, he repeats. “Where do you want to go, Princess,” he hums against her. Nowhere with you, the bitch repeats.
She’s running nails through his hair again, reminding him that sometimes, her touch was more than love. It was promises of a world that she could only give him. It was hidden kisses at the back of the Whyte Wyrm with every guard up, it was two hearts. It’s beating with our whole hearts, he convinces. Veronica’s hair is a dark curtain surrounding him. “Tell me how much you love me,” she begs him.
Jughead kisses at the bend of her arms that are keeping him too-safe-steady grounded. Praying on his minds knees that they could stay like this forever. “I love you so much, Princess,” he prays, “That wherever you want to go, I’ll take you.”
Veronica smiles at his truths, lips turned up in a way that makes his blood feel thick. Her lips are sugary-heart-stopping full when they’re down on his jawline. Her smile makes him smile. “Let’s move, run away, let’s go to New York and start a new life.”
Her words are chopped up, quick lines inhaled sharply and settling in his bloodstream by Jughead and he lets them soak into his being, his head rolls, his eyes closed. He lets them hit him. The bitch in the back of his mind reminds him that this is too good to be true. His heart lets Veronica rule him. Love, love, love, he repeats. Jughead smiles with his eyes closed with Veronica on his skin and his tongue sitting on the band of her jeans. “Tell me how much you torture me, Veronica.”
Her heart races as it sits against his right temple. “Fuck this, Jughead,” she says with straight-spine-confidence. “No torture, love.”
Jughead’s soul is already in New York City.
He kisses Veronica’s skin on her stomach twenty times in a row, running his hands up and down her thighs so many times he can’t count.
She steps away and in that moment, the bitch comes back. You’ll never make it in New York, it echoes.
He rolls a blunt, inhales sharply. Sativa takes over, you deserve to stop running away, she tells him in a high.
Veronica’s soft smile from across the room tells him she loves him. “What?” she murmurs.
His jaw relaxes, palms free of tension. Mind running to New York. “I just really fucking love you, Veronica.”
XXXXX
When Archie left, Jughead felt he lost a little of himself too. It was loyalty-laced-friendship that Jughead hates himself about. Loyalty, the bitch reminds him. Something you never had. There were tears that Veronica lost over Archie that he couldn’t seem to sew back together. She was tears hanging on Mika’s shoulder, Jughead knew that Veronica had found something in Mika. A friendship that offered her something other than the sweetness of Betty. Jughead misses the simple-happy-youth friendship he had with Archie. But that was something he hadn’t seen in years.
Betty was promises of coming home. Betty wasn’t a liar. But he could tell she was lying to him and for once, he wasn’t going to fight it.
Apparently, she left on the early bus to catch her midday flight. Jughead doesn’t know. He stayed indoors with Sweet Pea by his side and sativa convincing him that the weight will be lifted as soon as she left. And it did. Veronica cried for her best friend as well but Jughead’s open-cracked-heart finally started beating in rhythm for the first time in years.
“What will you do now?” Fangs asks, tossing a football in the air.
I’m limitless, he believes. He looks to Fangs and to Sweet Pea. For once, Sweet Pea wasn’t shoving truths down Jughead’s throat. Sweet Pea knew more than anyone about the way Jughead and Veronica beat as one. “I think I need to get out of here,” he tells his brothers in arms.
Sweet Pea smiles with his mouth shut when he sits in the mismatched chairs of the trailer. “Leave Southside?” he chuckles. “You and the raven haired Princess, huh? That’s what you call her, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Jughead says freely with no shackles keeping him down.
Fangs raises an eyebrow, lips turning up in a smirk. “You wouldn’t leave us, would you?”
Jughead rubs his face, looking through the gaps of his fingers at Fangs. “Fangs, I can’t stay here forever. V and I finally have something that we can make. NYC,” he says strongly. “Maybe it’s time for me to be a part of her world, now that we’re not stuck here.”
Sweet Pea sniggers. “You? In New York? I’ve heard it all now.”
The bitch in the back of his mind reminds him that maybe Sweet Pea is right. I need to have a go at this, he reminds himself. She wants us to go.
The trailer door with the too-loose-hinges swings open and now-easy-smiles walks through and Mika follows behind her. “What’s going on,” Veronica ghosts with her lips on Jughead’s temple. “Bit of a boy scout meeting?”
Mika giggles as she stands behind Sweet Pea and folded arms relax when Mika’s hand is on his shoulder, Jughead knows. “What were you guys talking about?”
“Can’t miss a beat, can you, Mimi?” Sweet Pea teases.
“Never.”
Jughead sighs into Veronica’s touch. “We’re talking me and you, Love,” he says out loud, ignoring the surprise from his friends at his opening up. “NYC.”
Fangs groans. “Can you just call it New York?”
“New York then,” Jughead corrects.
Veronica’s smile lifts him higher than the high the blunt gave him. Her nails on his skin keeps part of him with her always. Love is all mine, he reminds himself. Love will be all mine, he dreams, him and her always. Saturating. Drowning. Always. “Jug…” she says gently.
Mika jumps in, all quick mouthed like Sweet Pea. “Ugh,” she moans. “Just do it, get the fuck out of here.”
Jughead waits on Veronica’s words that don’t come. “Let’s get the fuck out.”
Veronica is a prayer over him. “Let’s do it.”
That was all he needs to hear.
XXXXXX
Sweet Pea is straight backed with a blunt hanging out of his mouth and a smirk that is only rivaled by his girl who stands next to him, hands folded over her chest and all-too-much confidence running out of the both of them. “Toni is going to hate the two of you if you both just fuck off in the middle of the night.”
Veronica’s shoulders straighten and Jughead can already feel the fight coming off of her even without her saying anything. Sharp-whip words are forming on the tip of her tongue and he can already hear them in the air right now. He leans back on the wall of the trailer, letting his love take over. He was never one for battles, and not if they involved her. “Firstly, it’s not the middle of the night, Sweet Pea,” she says, taking a step forward, not even reaching Sweet Pea’s shoulders.
Sweet Pea’s displeasure in circumstances rears as he flicks dark eyes from Veronica to Mika and back to Jughead. In that moment, Jughead’s thoughts became a little static. He was going to miss Sweet Pea and Fangs, Toni and Southside. All of them. He would miss them, but he loves Princess more than the feeling of the gang. He loves her so much, he would give up his entire world. “What are we gonna do without you?” Sweet Pea argues.
His girl, Mika, the only thing that Jughead had ever seen settle the person with a temper so wild, the whole of Greendale would be able to feel it, places a steadying hand on Sweet Pea’s shoulder and gives him a smile that made Sweet Pea so weak, Veronica almost smirked at him. “If they want to go, let them go!” she almost growls. “You’re a big boy, you can’t have Jughead babysitting you forever, you know.”
Sweet Pea wants to argue, of course he does, Jughead thinks to himself, he always does. But Sweet Pea backs down in the presence of Mika. “Fine, we’ll come with you to move, I’m not happy about it, but I’ll do it.”
Veronica smiles gently, reminding Jughead exactly why he was doing this. “It’s okay, guys,” she assures them. “We don’t need help, we just want to say goodbye.”
Mika clings onto Veronica like they’ve known each other their entire lives. “I’m going to miss you.”
“It’s not forever,” Veronica says, tears forming in the corners that Jughead holds back from wiping.
Sweet Pea looks at Jughead. Eyes saying a million things, verbally saying nothing at all. “You guys better come and visit,” Jughead says, pulling Sweet Pea in with a fight. Sweet Pea resists. Jughead holds his friend closer.
Sweet Pea bends down into Jughead’s ear. “If you need anything, you call me first, you hear?”
Jughead lets go and goes to hug Mika who holds his hand a little too tightly and hisses in his ear; “You hurt her, I kill you, Jones.”
XXXXX
The apartment is cold.
Bitch whispers in his mind, you should be giving her more than this.
Love unpacks their two bags and puts them in the drawer that was free that they got two weeks later as she dances in black lace around the room.
Love had also spent money on new sheets because she insisted they needed to sleep in actual bedding, her next investment was to be a duvet cover, she promises him. Jughead could never deny her the luxury. Instead, he’s almost convinced that they need the duvet just as much as she is. Black lace could never persuade him to follow his own mind. Black lace was his mind.
The bedroom was empty apart from the clothing in the free drawers. Their second-hand-dirty double mattress lived on the floor of their lounge room with the rug that came with the cheap apartment and the crates they had decorated and arranged to appear like a coffee table, Jughead watches Veronica as she’s happy-light footsteps in the lounge room, hips that were swollen swinging in front of him as soft yellows from the barely working TV danced on her skin, blues and greys slide in from the flickering lights of the outside coming in from the windows. She’s too perfect, the bitch reminds him. She’s my perfect, he reminds himself.
He crashes down with dark denim on his legs and nothing on the top onto the fresh sheets on the mattress and the blanket with no duvet. She’s dancing-to-no-tune kind of happy that makes Jughead so happy, he wouldn’t ever have a regret in his life.
Riverdale was close-to-three weeks in their past and aside from the smell of Sweetwater River in the Spring and chocolate shakes from Pop’s, he had almost forgotten it. Bitch brings Betty into Jughead’s mind as Veronica briefly reminds him of River Vixen days and the Blue and Gold where at 16, they stole a kiss that they had tried to lock away but never truly could. Betty’s sweet-blonde and bright-baby-blue eyes cloud him, but quickly, she was gone. If Riverdale was three weeks in the past, then Betty was two years. He wonders if when she moved to California, did she feel this too?
A freedom that let her breathe the same way he is right now in the apartment with the seventies-speckled-green kitchen counter top with the clashing yellow-hippy-vibe curtains hanging on windows that squeak when you open them.
At nineteen, his age felt fake. He felt old. Withered. Their apartment gave them a freedom that took the weight off their shoulders. Twenty wasn’t so bad after all.
Jughead gets off the slightly-too-hard mattress as Veronica stands in front of him, lace dipping in between her thighs that he already has saliva pooling for. He goes up behind his love, “Tell me how much you torture me, Princess,” he almost demands.
He kisses at the side of Veronica’s throat, tasting salty-sweet and him on her from last night. Veronica curves into him, forcing one of his rough hands down between her thighs, snagging on lace, feeling her softly and just the way she likes it. Love, love, love, he repeats as he licks at her neck. He sets his hands on her hips, denim and his zipper catching on the thin, black lace as he grinds to get a little closer, Veronica tilting her neck for him to bite down a little too-desperate kind of needy. “Tell me how much you love me,” she hums with a confidence that Jughead can’t ignore.
He wants to rip her lace. “Like a fucking drug,” he prays.
Jughead knows he’s part of her. Inside of her. This home was the bones of their fucking love with the bathroom that was all types of sixties hypnotic with the basin that he had fucked her against as she told him just how much she loved him as she came. Even with his face buried in the crook of her neck and his eyes closed he can picture exactly how her eyes were rolling back as he continues to love her. She’s bite marks on her rib cage and in between her legs, she’s a level of softness that he’s only ever known from her when she comes to his name.
Veronica is my freedom, he begs to himself. She’s his freedom when they don’t ever have to hide again.
Jughead kisses her muscles and aching bones, swollen lips and torn skin.
Veronica grabs his wrist again, forcing it between her. “Please, love,” she begs him, putting his fingers under lace. “I need you,” she insists with his palm sitting on her soft stomach.
She’s wet and ready. Begging and needy. Tender and desperate. Her lips cling to his, Veronica’s teeth pulling on his swollen, lower lip making Jughead gasp. She loves it when she’s begging, he thinks. Jughead knows she loves it when she can still feel him long after they’re done. He can feel her begging in his heart, still feel her begging from last night and feels himself begging in his cock when he slips fingers in wet, sliding them over herself. She bucks against his hand with her tongue on his. Love me, the bitch cries.
“I love you,” he promises Veronica.
She falls onto hands and knees onto the mattress where they spend every night watching reruns - she rolls onto her back, pitched up on elbows and watches Jughead fall between her legs, scratching at smooth calf muscles and giggling at light nips at her ankles. Black lace gets caught at the knees as he drags them down her core and they tear a little when he gets them off her feet, chucking lacey black over his shoulder.
She pretends to kick him, flat foot on bare chest but Jughead laughs, kissing her feet, not-close-enough kind of desperate. Denim snaps and rings as he pulls them off so quickly, his legs get a little tangled. He’s bare and she’s pushing fists into his chest as he centers himself.
Jughead rocks in a way that’s painful in his very being.
Veronica rides him from on top with her nails in his chest and his name spilling out of her mouth so many times, his own name seems foreign.
She lies in his arms and traces patterns on his Southside tattoo. “Are you scared?” she asks.
Am I scared? He asks himself. I’m so scared of everything, he knows. Impulsive-too-quick ideas, bad-blood-draining dreams. What if I can’t give her anything? “I’m scared I can’t provide.”
“I’ll provide,” she insists. “You just make sure you keep loving me… how much do you love me?”
Jughead loves her so much that the last three weeks in their new world is the only time that matters. “Fuck the last three years, Princess,” he promises her. “What’s happening right now is the only thing that matters.”
“Then tell me why you’re scared.”
He wants to drown out heart-sinking-truths. “I don’t have a job, Love,” he says with closed eyes. “I don’t have money to give you.”
“Don’t talk about that,” she hums. “We’re okay. You’ll get there.”
“You shouldn’t have to worry about money,” he says but she puts an index finger to his lips.
“I’m not,” she says sternly, keeping him grounded. “You’re the one who’s worried. I’m okay at the coffee shop.”
“You shouldn’t have to work at a coffee shop -”
Veronica cuts off painful thoughts. “I worked at Pops for years, Jughead. Trust me, I’m okay.”
“God,” he says against her skin. “You’re torture.”
Heavy eyelashes beat loudly as she blinks and he can hear it. The softness of her hands was heavy on his stomach where she laid them. “You’re torturing me too, you know?” she whispers. “But being anywhere else without you would have been worse.”
“What kind of torture are you tonight, love?” he asks her on metaphorical hands and knees, scratching at shards of glass. “Love, tell me you love me,” he asks for the reminder.
“I love you,” she sighs back.
“Tell me you don’t regret me.”
She smiles with her eyes closed, it’s cold and damp in her smile but burning hot to the touch when she’s near him. “It doesn’t matter how fucked up we are, Jug. I’ll never regret any of this.”
He closes his eyes, prays to Veronica next to him. “Have we made it?”
“We’re so far gone, I don’t know the way back.”
He holds her in his arms. Closer than close, drowning deeper than deep. In this moment, it doesn’t matter how much it feels like Veronica is in the marrow of his fucked up bones, or that she’s the splitting gums in his mouth. How maybe it’s her blood in his bloodstream or how his mind isn’t his anymore, it’s his family’s. The one they made together in the cold apartment. He wouldn’t trade this moment for anything. He keeps agony in his soul, at least he has a broken reminder of the love he holds. And that’s all he’s ever wanted.
She’s sleepy-dewy-love in his arms. Ritual, he repeats.
