Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9607340.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Riverdale_(TV_2017)
  Relationship:
      Archie_Andrews/Jughead_Jones
  Character:
      Archie_Andrews, Jughead_Jones, Cheryl_Blossom, Fred_Andrews
  Additional Tags:
      Angst_and_Porn, Panic_Attacks, Mutual_Masturbation, Masturbation, Making
      Out, Coming_Out, Asexual_Character, some_archie/cheryl_but_not_enough_to
      bother, Blow_Jobs
  Series:
      Part 3 of You_Can't_Fuck_Your_Friends_As_A_Joke
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-02-06 Words: 3262
****** Wait And See ******
by Pigzxo
Summary
     After a stupid mistake leaves Archie without any relief, Jughead
     steps up to the plate.
Archie gripped the sheets as Cheryl wrapped her cherry red lips around him. He
let out a low breath and tried not to bite right through his lip – again. For a
different reason this time, at least, and for a different person, but he didn’t
know how much abuse he could put his mouth through before someone started to
worry. Cheryl’s nails scraped down his thighs. She suckled at the head of his
cock, pressed her tongue against the slit.
            Archie did his best not to blow his load as she slowly swirled her
tongue down his length. She had made it very clear that if he came on her, she
would never touch him again. And while he wasn’t particularly fond of Cheryl,
he was a teenage boy with eyes and she was proving herself quite good at what
she was doing.
            He sighed as she ran her tongue along the underside of his cock. He
fought against the urge to close his eyes. He wanted to memorize her – mouth
wide, eyes narrowed in concentration, her chest heaving with every breath. But
still his eyes flickered as he bit down on a moan.
            The door creaked and Archie managed to open his eyes to look that
way. He was too far gone, too heady, to worry about who might be coming through
the door. Which might have been a problem with his dad downstairs if it hadn’t
been Jughead who stopped in the doorway, pursed his lips, and said, “I’ll come
back.”
            “No.” The word was out before Archie could take it back. He was
vaguely aware that his dick had gone cold, that one of his hands was stroking
Cheryl’s hair. “Stay. Watch.”
            Jughead snorted. “Nope.” He left the room.
            Cheryl hit Archie on the leg. “What the fuck was that?”
            Archie opened his mouth to reply then shut it when he recognized
the anger in Cheryl’s expression. He faked a smile – a quick quirk of his lips
to one side – and pushed back a loose tendril of her fiery hair. “I got caught
up in the moment. I’m sorry.”
            “Sorry?” she snapped. “You just invited your creepy ass friend to
watch meblow you. What is that? Is that what’s he’s into?”
            “No, I—”
            “Is that what you’re into?”
            Archie wasn’t sure he’d ever backed himself into a worse corner in
his entire life. He stared blankly at Cheryl, at a complete loss for words.
            She huffed and got to her feet. “I’m sorry, Archie. This type of
thing might fly with sweet little Betty or more experienced Veronica, but I am
a lady and what happens in a bedroom should be between two people who care
about each other. I care about you, Archie. Maybe if you care about me, you’ll
find a way to fix this.” She headed for the door.
            “Wait.” Archie cursed, managed to pull his pants up from around his
ankles, and stumbled after her. He got as far as the open door. She was already
on the stairs, heading down.
            Jughead let out a low whistle.
            Archie shot him a look. “Why are you waiting out here?”
            “I was pretty sure that wasn’t gonna go well.” Jughead clapped him
on the shoulder and walked past him into the bedroom.
            “I shouldn’t have asked you to watch.”
            “Yeah, that was weird.” Jughead picked up a magazine on Archie’s
desk, flipped through it, and then dropped it. He looked back over his
shoulder. “We were going to the movies? Black and white French documentaries?
Ringing any bells?”
            Archie shrugged his apology and closed the door. He started to look
for his shirt.
            “You agreed to come because I said there’d be lesbians in them?”
Jughead hoisted himself up to sit on the desk and drummed his fingers against
its surface. “Which, to be fair, was a lie. I have no idea if there are
lesbians in them. Because I don’t care, so I didn’t check... Dude. What are you
doing?”
            “Looking for my shirt,” Archie mumbled as he looked under the bed.
            “You could just grab a new one.”
            Archie stood with a sigh. His eyes met Jughead’s and he realized
there was a hint of a smile on his friend’s face. For some reason, Jughead
found this funny. Not that Archie was all that surprised. Jughead’s sense of
humour made about as much sense to him as those pictures of dogs in sweaters
that Betty was always showing him. “What?” Archie said. “Would you just laugh
already or make fun of me or throw me a fucking shirt?”
            Jughead leaped off the desk and gestured to the end of the bed.
“Come on. Sit down.”
            “Why?”
            “Because you’re hard as a rock and I wanna make the movie.”
            Archie looked down at the bulge in his unbuttoned jeans and then
back at Jughead. Slowly, he walked to the end of the bed. “You sure?” He was
already pulling down his pants but he kept his fingers on the fabric, ready to
stop at the slightest sign of Jughead’s discomfort.
            “I’m offering, aren’t I?”
            Archie dropped his clothes and sat down. He looked up at Jughead,
patient, confused.
            “Do what you’re gonna do,” he said, a smile on his lips. He took a
step closer, crossed his arms. “I’m not gonna get on my knees like a good
little redheaded bombshell.”
            “Shut up.” The words lost their bite when Archie wrapped his hand
around himself and groaned. Jughead exhaled a sharp laugh but bit down on his
smile when he met Archie’s eyes. Archie held his gaze, let out a small breath,
and started to move his hand faster.
            Jughead stepped closer, his eyes on Archie’s dick. Archie couldn’t
stop looking at his face, at the gentle curiosity there. Something in his
expression seemed almost affectionate. Or maybe that was wishful thinking.
Maybe there was nothing softer than the first time he’d seen Archie like this,
maybe it was the same distaste, the same morbid fascination. Archie’s hand
started to shake and he stopped stroking himself.
            Jughead raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”
            “Yeah, umm...” Archie shrugged, shook his head. “It’s just not
working. So we can just—”
            Archie swallowed his words and maybe his tongue at the shock of
Jughead’s hand wrapped around him. He looked down just to make sure he wasn’t
imagining the situation and, sure enough, his best friend was jacking him off.
Not with an awful lot of skill or pressure, but his touch got Archie a lot
closer to the edge than it should have.
            “Jughead,” Archie said, fighting to keep his voice steady, “what
are you doing?”
            Jughead gave him an amused look. “What’s it look like?”
            “It’s not weird for you?”
            “Not that much different from doing it to myself. You’re bigger
though.”
            Archie inhaled sharply at the comment, then nodded like that was a
perfectly normal thing for Jughead to say in a nonchalant voice like he was
comparing the size of cucumbers in the grocery store. He bit his tongue and
tried to think of something else to say. “This isn’t crossing a line?” he
asked.
            “My choice, wasn’t it?”
            “Right. Jughead—” Archie cut himself off with a curse as Jughead
twisted his wrist and rubbed his thumb over the head. Then Archie made the
mistake of looking into Jughead’s eyes again, seeing a hundred things he
couldn’t comprehend as his friend stared at him. “Can I ask you something?”
            “Sure.”
            “Kiss me?”
            “Seriously, what is with you and kissing while you jack off?”
            Archie opened his mouth to apologize, to take it back, but
Jughead’s lips closed over his own. And something about it was definitely
different. Maybe it was that it wasn’t the first time anymore. Maybe it was
that they’d become more comfortable with each other. Maybe it was this or that,
but Archie stopped himself from continuing to make excuses. Instead he brought
his hand to the back of Jughead’s head and pulled him closer, deepened their
kiss as Jughead’s hand sped up around him.
            They kissed sloppy and desperate and Archie was sure he’d had
better kisses but he couldn’t quite remember them. His breath stuttered between
each touch of their lips. He felt Jughead’s smile against his skin. He hardly
remembered to breathe.
            “Jug... Jug,” he mumbled. “I’m gonna come. I don’t wanna... don’t
wanna make a mess of you.”
            Jughead pulled off and stepped away. He twirled on the spot and
fell back on the bed, his feet still on the ground. Archie laughed at his
dramatics and went back to touching himself. He glanced over his shoulder at
Jughead, but he had his eyes on the ceiling, narrowed, like he was counting the
raised bits of popcorn.
            Archie came moments later, tucked himself back in, and grabbed the
tissue box. He wiped off his hand and then threw the box at Jughead. It landed
on his stomach, seemed to shock him, and he took a tissue to wipe his hand.
Archie retrieved the box and put it back in its place.
            “So, movie?” Jughead said.
            Archie looked over at him. He let his eyes linger over the casual
lines of his body, the slight brush of his toes against the carpet, the
complete defeat of him lying down. His beanie had fell half off his head but he
hadn’t adjusted it yet. If Archie didn’t know better, he’d think that Jughead
was breathing through his mouth, still stunned by what had happened.
            “Are you okay?” Archie asked.
            “Yeah.”
            “That wasn’t... Look, I know it was your choice and whatever, and I
need to trust you to know when things go too far, but...” Archie licked his
lips as he zipped up his jeans. “Can you tell me why?”
            Jughead shrugged. “You said you couldn’t do it yourself. I wanted
to help.”
            “It wasn’t weird?”
            “It was very weird.”
            “So, the kissing—”
            “I might have liked that part.”
            Archie met Jughead’s eyes, saw the quirk of his signature smirk.
And in a second, he had brought their lips back together. Archie scrambled onto
the bed, on top of Jughead, one hand in his hair and the other on the side of
the bed to make sure they didn’t fall. Part of Archie’s brain screamed this was
too much, too fast, but he shut it out. Jughead kissed him back. Jughead
threaded his fingers through his hair. Jughead smiled at every sound Archie
made.
            They kissed long and hard. Archie tried to take control but with
every tug on his hair or laugh from Jughead, he adjusted accordingly. With a
shift to bring their bodies closer, Archie felt Jughead’s erection against his
thigh. He broke their kiss to look down, felt Jughead’s lips peck his nose.
            “Jughead,” Archie said.
            “I know.”
            Archie hummed slightly, bit down on his lip. He gave Jughead one
more kiss on the lips before shifting to kiss his jaw, his neck. The pressure
of Jughead’s hand told him it was okay but if he went any lower...
            “Jug,” Archie mumbled. “Fuck. Jug. I want... I want to get down on
my knees and suck you off, I want—”
            “Whoa, okay.” Jughead pushed Archie off with more strength than
Archie’d realized he had. He jumped off the bed like it was on fire, grabbed
his beanie and shoved it back on his head. “All right. And we’re done here.”
            “Wait, Jug.” Archie scrambled to sit up as Jughead headed for the
door. “Please, wait, I’m sorry. Jughead!”
            Jughead stopped with the door halfway open and looked over his
shoulder. His eyes were dead, callused. Archie felt his heart drop into his
feet and stop beating.
            “What do you want, Arch?” Jughead’s voice was a warning, dark and
laced with venom.
            Archie swallowed. “You can’t... go downstairs like that. If my dad
sees you...”
            “Of course.” Jughead slammed the door and walked away from it. He
sniffed. “Because you really can’t have a girl and then a guy run out of your
house in front of your dad. What would he think? And I’m, well, I’m clearly
aroused so—”
            “I’m sorry.”
            Jughead laughed. The sound was cracked and broken around what might
have been the edge of a sob. “It’s my fault. I should have known.”
            “Known what?”
            Jughead stayed silent as he paced.
            “Is there anything I can do?” Archie shifted on the bed and the
springs creaked. He wanted to stand up, to go to Jughead and calm him down. But
touching him, being anywhere near him, seemed like the absolute worst thing he
could do at the moment. “To, you know, help?”
            “Yeah. Keep talking.”
            “Okay...” Archie looked around the room for a safe topic of
conversation, settled on the most obvious. “I always think about baseball in
situations like this. You know, um, red dust and white bases and the guys
running around—”
            “Not like that.”
            “Then how?”
            Jughead bit his lip. “Like you were before.”
            “That doesn’t seem like a good idea.”
            “Just do it.”
            Archie hesitated. “I don’t wanna freak you out any more than you
already are.”
            “I’m not sure that’s possible. Because I’m pretty much at max freak
out right now, okay? I broke my own fucking rules and it was a terrible idea
and now you’re talking about wanting to go down on me and I honestly can’t
think of anything in the entire world that I want less than that, including
nuclear war, so if you would just suck it the fuck up and keep talking because
nothing will kill my erection faster and then I can get the fuck out of this
room which is really the only thing I want to do right now.”
            “Okay! Okay. Take a breath.”
            Jughead let out a nasty chuckle.
            Archie closed his eyes, took a breath. “Okay. I was talking
about... going to my knees and sucking you off... umm, your cock in my mouth
and maybe you directing me how you like it and...” Archie made the mistake of
looking up at Jughead whose expression was somewhere between pain and disgust.
Archie swallowed whatever that made him feel – he didn’t want to think about
it, didn’t want to know what his emotions were doing – and looked at the floor
as he went on. “And when you’re nice and wet with my saliva, before you come,
you would pull me up from the floor and bend me over the bed and fuck me real
hard.”
            “Wow. Okay. Goodbye.” Jughead made a beeline for the door.
            “I’m sorry,” Archie tried again.
            The door slammed.
            With a groan, Archie fell back on the bed and threw his arm over
his eyes. He could feel the tears coming, the build up of pressure between his
eyes, and he couldn’t stop it. He had no idea what the fuck he had been
thinking. He knew Jughead. He knew what Jughead felt. Jughead had made the
rules perfectly clear and Archie had gone and ran right past them because he
thought he had seen something in Jughead’s eyes. And when had he ever known
what anyone felt for him? Betty had hid her feelings from him for years.
            A knock sounded on his door and Archie grumbled something that he
knew could have sounded like either “come in” or “go away.” The door opened,
footsteps padded over the carpet, and someone sat down on the bed beside him.
Archie wanted it to be Jughead but he knew it was his dad.
            “Jughead sure stormed out of here in a hurry,” his dad said. “You
two have another fight?”
            Archie wanted to laugh but the sound came out as half a sob. He sat
up, rubbed his eyes, and gave his dad his thinnest, least convincing smile.
“You could say that.”
            His dad smiled back and put an arm around him. Shaking him a
little, he said, “Come on. This is Jughead we’re talking about. You guys have
been friends forever. I’m sure if you apologize, he’ll come around.”
            “I tried that,” Archie said. “I think this is past apologies. I
really screwed up, dad.”
            “What could you have said or done that would be so bad? Jughead
loves you.”
            Archie exhaled, heavy, and the first tear fell onto his cheek. “No,
dad, that’s the problem. He doesn’t love me. He doesn’t want me. He just... I
don’t even know what he’s doing.” Archie bent down to put his face on his
knees. He wanted to stop talking, stop thinking, stop breathing. Had he not
just made Jughead suffer because he hadn’t wanted to have this exact
conversation? “And now he hates me.”
            “He doesn’t hate you.” His dad started to rub his back. “He’s your
best friend.”
            “I pushed too hard. I pushed too hard and now he hates me and I
can’t do anything about it because I’m the problem and I’m pretty sure if I go
anywhere near him ever again he just... he’ll never forgive me.”
            “Hey, hey.” His dad clamped his hand on his shoulder and squeezed
hard. “If there is one thing I know about you and Jughead, it’s that you guys
can get through anything together.”
            Archie laughed into his knees, stopped because he ran out of
oxygen, and then sat up with a deep breath. He looked into his dad’s eyes and
really wanted to be able to agree with him. “Dad,” he said, “you know about
Jughead right?”
            “Know what about Jughead?”
            “He’s ace.”
            “Yeah. I remember having that conversation when he came out to you.
Why?”
            Archie shrugged. “We’ve been... I don’t know... fooling around.”
For a second, he stared at the floor and then he risked looking his dad in the
eye.
            His dad, to his credit, barely looked shocked. He even laughed. “I
thought I had to be more worried about Cheryl being up here.”
            “You have to be worried about both,” Archie said. Then, “Sorry.”
            His dad shook his head. “Nothing to apologize for. You know I love
you no matter what, right? Anything you’ve ever done, anything at all, I still
love you. And I’m definitely not going to stop loving you because you’re with
Jughead. To be honest, I like him better than any of the girls you’ve brought
around.”
            Archie laughed for real now. “I don’t think I’m exactly
withJughead. I don’t think he wants that. I don’t think I want that.”
            “I know I don’t know exactly what happened and, from what I’ve
heard, I probably don’t want to know the details, but I’m going to give you
some advice. Give Jughead some space. Let him work things out on his own. And
if after the weekend he’s still angry, try to apologize again.”
            “Okay. Thanks, dad.”
            His dad pulled him into a one-armed hug and landed a kiss on the
top of his head. “You wanna tell your mom?”
            “I didn’t wanna tell you.”
            Getting to his feet, his dad laughed and clapped him on the back
one last time. “If you’re not going to the movies, then come downstairs and
help me make the marinade for the ribs.”
            “In a sec.” Archie waited until his dad left the room and then sat
staring at the half open door for a long moment. Wait and see. That was his
dad’s advice for most things but it seemed oddly fitting here. Wait and see.
Wait and see if Jughead cooled off. Wait and see if the tumult of emotions in
his stomach went away. Wait and see.
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