Chapter Text
Then
“We can’t do this.” Her voice was quiet, and her tone seemed less than convincing. She wondered for a moment if it was him that she was trying to convince, or herself?
“We really shouldn’t do this.” His blue-green eyes drifted up to meet hers.
Neither of them sounded very conclusive as they stared into each others eyes, their bodies mere centimeters from one another.
She bit her lip gently, looking the sultry boy in front of her up and down. God, he’s attractive, she thought to herself, taking the time to really take him in.
His jeans were dark and he wore a deep red shirt with a matching flannel tied around his waste. His raven hair was flat against the knit crown beanie that he seemed to always wear, a few rebellious strands escaping the beanie in front of his face. His face… His skin was pale, his eyes hauntingly beautiful as they trailed down her body, leaving a burning trail as he did.
“But…” He said breathlessly, his eyes meeting hers once again. “My sister is dead asleep, and my parents won’t be home until tomorrow.”
She bit her lip harder, surely leaving an indent. She wanted this. She wanted him. God, she wanted him so bad.
She needed him.
Time felt as thought it had stopped as she stared at him, unable to gather her thoughts. She knew they shouldn’t do this. She knew there would be consequences if anyone found out… and yet, all she could think of was how every bone in her body seemed to ache for him in that very moment.
Without giving herself time to talk herself out of it, she cupped his cheeks in her small hands and smashed their lips together hard.
Fireworks exploded in her body, her eyelids fluttering shut. He kissed her back immediately, their lips moving in perfect sync. His hands trailed around her waist, gripping tightly and pulling her chest against his. Her heart beat hard, and she wondered if he could feel just how fast it seemed to move.
He nipped her bottom lip lightly and a quiet moan escaped her lips, traveling to his mouth. He growled and eagerly slipped his tongue between her lips. The kiss deepened as she involuntarily moved her fingers from his cheeks to the back of his neck and then into his hair. It felt like a reflex. She pulled the beanie from his head and let it drop behind them, entangling her fragile fingers within his hair and tugging lightly.
He must have enjoyed that, because he suddenly pulled back from her, a mischievous smirk forming across his lips. She squealed as he lifted her by the waist, and tossed her onto the bed. He took no time in pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor of his bedroom. His eyes met hers again, and he nodded at the white tank top that she’d worn to bed that night. “Off,” was all he had to say. She tore her shirt off with an urgency that showed him just how much she wanted this. A tiny pink bra was all that remained between him and her bare chest.
He crawled on top of her, his fingers playing with the waistband of her pajama shorts as he lowered his lips to her collarbone.
She let out an obscene sound at the feeling of his wet lips against her extremely sensitive skin. She hadn’t even realized that her hips were moving against him, as if they were begging him to touch her. If she hadn’t done something to deserve it yet, this was definitely going to land her in hell.
His lips moved down her body, leaving wet kisses all over her. It was all too much.
She reached her fingers to his jeans, struggling to find the button. He seemed to find this humorous, and he let out a gruff chuckle against her skin, sending shivers throughout her entire body.
He propped himself onto his knee’s, pulling back from her as he stared down at the body in front of him. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” He said, the mischief leaving his face for a moment.
She smiled shyly, becoming all too aware that she was nearly bare chested in front of him.
He pulled her hands to the waistband of his jeans and she hooked her fingers into the belt loops, attempting to pull him back on top of her. He didn’t comply, instead unbuckling the buttons that she had been struggling with. Rather than waiting for his cue, she tugged the jeans off of his waist, and he shimmied out of them until they fell to the floor to meet his shirt.
She was met by an extremely attractive man in nothing more than blue and white stripped boxers. His torso glistened with sweat in the neon light of his alarm clock. Every part of her body burned for him.
After what felt like a lifetime of just staring at one another’s bodies, he finally leaned over her, his body hovering just close enough that she could feel his chest as breathed it; but it was snatched away from her every time he exhaled.
He nipped her earlobe ever so lightly. She crooked her hips up, pressing her abdomen against his. She knelt her head back as she tried to grind against him, begging for him through her actions.
“So…” He whispered, his hot breath hitting the area around her ear. “I guess we’re doing this.”
She nodded eagerly in response. “I guess we are.”
Now
Betty slid out of the taxi, stepping onto the curb. Her wavy blonde hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, and she wore a light purple t-shirt under her light washed distressed short overalls and a pair of white Converse. Her eyes trailed up the luxurious building, taking in the large concrete columns and the deep oak doorway.
Her floral duffel bag hung across her body, and she had just retrieved her matching suitcase from the trunk of the taxi when she heard a terrifying shriek from behind her. She spun on her heel in response, only to be greeted by a raven-haired beauty in pearls and a Marc Jacobs dress, sprinting towards her in heels that were not made for sprinting.
“Beeeeeeeee!” She exclaimed, nearly knocking Betty into oncoming traffic as the girl crashed into her, wrapping her olive toned arms around Betty’s pale body.
“Hi, V.” Betty managed to say, the grip around her body becoming tighter by the minute. After at least a full sixty seconds of hugging, Veronica finally released her grip and stepped back an inch or so.
She looked Betty up and down. “You know, for being in California for the last year, you seem to have gotten paler.”
Betty chuckled at this and shrugged. “I didn’t spend all of my time at the beach.”
“That’s where you and I are very, very different, my dear bestie.” Veronica stepped towards the taxi, leaning in and handing a large wad of cash to the man behind the wheel. Betty couldn’t tell how much she’d handed him, but she knew it was more than she had in her own bank account. “That’s for getting my BFF here safely, not being creepy, and waiting around while I attacked her.”
The taxi driver looked at the cash with wide eyes, then offered a beaming smile at Veronica before waving and driving off.
Veronica wrapped her arm into Betty’s and began to lead her up the stairs to the Pembrooke. “You know,” She said as the door swung open, being held by none other than Veronica’s butler, Smithers. “I would have been happy to send a driver.”
“Thank you,” Betty mouthed to Smithers as they stepped inside, before looking back to Veronica. “I know, and I appreciate the sentiment. I’m used to taxi’s, though. I took them everywhere in California.”
“Didn’t Polly have a car?” Veronica questioned as they crossed the lobby towards the elevator.
“Well, yeah.” Betty shrugged. “But she was busy with the twins most of the time.”
She reached forward and pressed the upward facing arrow that was illuminated against the wall. The elevator doors opened nearly immediately, and she lugged her belongings into the elevator as Veronica pressed the button for the third floor. The doors closed and the elevator revved to life, jolting upward.
“Okay, well for the next two weeks, you’ll have a driver to take you anywhere you need to go.” Veronica clapped her hands together excitedly. “I still can’t believe you’ll be my temporary roommate.”
Betty laughed, nodding her head. She had spent the last year living in California with her sister, who had given birth to beautiful twin babies last summer. Considering Polly’s baby daddy wasn’t in the picture, she needed extra help for the first few months. Betty spent her year getting to know her niece and nephew, but also getting to know her sister as a single mother. Polly was a stressed out, un-showered hot mess most of the time, but she was an amazing mother. It made Betty emotional to see the way she sang to the twins at night, or how she would take extra time changing their diapers to tickle them and kiss them, making them feel comfortable.
Being with her sister and her sisters babies was an added plus, but truthfully, Betty had to get out of Riverdale.
“Are you sure your parents are okay with me staying with you guys? Alice will be back in two weeks, it’s really not that long for me to be alone at the house…” Betty asked as the elevator jostled to a stop, the doors opening a moment later.
“Betty, absolutely no one has a problem with you being here.”
Well, maybe someone.
“Even Jughead?” Betty asked, trying to hide the nervousness in her voice.
Veronica laughed as they stepped out of the elevator and headed down the hallway, Betty following closely behind. “Why would Jughead care? He doesn’t care about anything.”
“Yeah, true.” Betty agreed, a quiet sigh escaping her lips.
“I don’t think he knows, to be completely honest.” Betty’s eyes shot up and she watched as Veronica opened the door to apartment 330, holding it open for Betty. “FP didn’t want to tell him because he’d probably try to protest.”
“I thought you said he didn’t care.” Betty drifted into the apartment, taking in her surroundings. The living room and dining room alone held items worth more than the cost of her home.
“He doesn’t, he just won’t like having to share his private bathroom. It connects between his bedroom and the guest room, and we rarely have guests. He’ll have to clean up after himself for once.” Veronica shrugged as she tossed the keys in her hand into the bowl on the entryway table. “And he’ll have to be way more careful with his little guests.”
“Guests?”
“Oh my gosh, you haven’t been here for the last year to see Jughead turn into the biggest sleeze.” Veronica rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “He has a different girl over every weekend, sometimes even on weekdays.”
Betty’s chest tightened as she tried to find the right thing to say.
“It happened like right after you left. He just started going to parties on the Southside and bringing girls home. He thinks he’s sly, but he’s not exactly quiet. I’ve seen like six of them, and even talked to one in the kitchen. She was… nice.”
Betty’s grip on her suitcase tightened. “I, uh…. Is it okay if I put my stuff in the room? I’m totally wiped.”
“You can put your stuff in your room,” Veronica said matter-of-factly. “But you’re not going to bed. Jet lagged or not, we haven’t seen each other in a year and we have to celebrate in true B and V fashion.”
Betty’s eyes widened and she shook her head hastily. “No, nope. No way. Not—.”
“Tequila!” Veronica giggled, running towards the kitchen.
Betty frowned, remembering the last time they’d had tequila.
“Have you been drinking, Coop?” He smirked, leaning against the counter in the kitchen.
“Mm…” Betty raised her fingers to her chin, thinking about the question for a moment. “No. Definitely not. Completely sober.”
“I’m gonna call your bluff there.”
“I plead the fifth.” Betty reached over to the red solo cup that sat on the edge of the counter. “This is definitely not tequila.” She said as she took a sip from it.
Jughead rounded the island, standing a few inches from her. “Is that so?”
“Yep. It’s water.”
“Smells like tequila.”
“It’s.. scented water.”
Jughead grinned and leaned down towards her, their faces close enough for her to feel his breath. Her heart rate began to sped up as her eyes widened. She’d thought about being this close to him many times before, but every ounce of confidence she seemed to have in her head melted away at the sight of his lips parting ever so slowly.
“Is that… so?” He said slowly, enunciating each word individually.
A shiver ran down her spine. “Mhm…” was all she could seem to get out.
All too quickly, Jughead leaned in even closer and drug his tongue over her lips. Betty let out a soft sigh, and he pulled away from her. How could such a simple act, something that should disgust her, make her want to absolutely jump his bones?
She looked at him, her eyes wide as he seemed to take a moment to think.
“Sure tastes like tequila.”
And then he was gone, leaving Betty in a mess of breathlessness and tequila tasting lips.
“I’m so tired, V.” Betty complained.
“Too bad, so sad.” Veronica called from the kitchen as she rummaged through a few cabinets. A few moments later, she came back with a bottle of tequila that was probably more expensive than her flight. Holding it up in the air and wiggling her hips a bit, Veronica called out “We are going to get drunk and dance and not care about the fact that our senior year starts in a couple of days!”
Betty sighed, knowing that it was impossible to argue with Veronica. Once she had her mind made up, that was it.
“Won’t Jughead be annoyed by the noise?”
Veronica scoffed. “Jughead’s at one of his little parties tonight, and my parents won’t be home until the day after tomorrow.”
When Betty gave her a questioning look, she explained “When we got back from Milan, they took their own trip to New Orleans. You know, one Lodge vacation, one Jones vacation.”
They both chuckled. “Balance.” Betty said.
Betty recognized how odd of a pairing it may have been to outsiders. Hermione Lodge was a rich entrepreneur from Manhattan with an insane fashion line, and FP Jones was an ex-gang member turned police officer from the wrong side of the tracks. No one expected them to last when they got married ten years ago, but they defied the odds and had remained happily in love throughout their entire marriage thus far. Betty thought it was sweet. Veronica liked FP, but she had always been less than thrilled with having a step brother, especially when that step brother was Jughead Jones.
“Go put your stuff away, and get your perky little ass back out here so we can celebrate!” Veronica hurried Betty towards the guest room, which sat just between Veronicas and Jugheads. Betty complied, shuffling into the bedroom. “Dress code is big t-shirts and tiny shorts! We’re going full Risky Business tonight!”
Betty laughed and shut the door behind her, throwing her suitcase onto the king sized bed that sat in the center of the lilac colored room. Across from it was a beautiful, dark oak dresser with an arrangement of fresh roses and dragons breath inside a classic-shaped bouquet vase. On the far side of the bedroom was a beautiful casement window with a dark lining to match the furniture, and a sheer white curtain tied to the left.
Betty turned her head for a moment, spotting the door that was stationed just to the left of her bed. It was a tall, white door with a golden door lever. Who knew a bathroom could feel like a pathway to your past?
She sighed and opened her suitcase, rummaging through it for a t-shirt that fell far enough down that Veronica would deem it acceptable for her dance.
“Uh, Veronica.” Betty slipped out of her bedroom, still wearing her t-shirt from before. She had since replaced the overall’s with a pair of tight black cheer shorts that she’d gained from her short time on the Vixens.
“Mm, nope.” Veronica said as she glanced up at Betty. “I’m not getting any Tom Cruise vibes from that.” Veronica was now draped in a light blue t-shirt that fell past her shorts, likely a piece from Archie Andrew’s closet.
“That’s the thing…” Betty sighed. “I don’t really have any t-shirts like that.”
“What?! How can you not have an oversized t-shirt? It’s a staple in any girls closet. It’s perfect sleepwear.”
“I don’t know,” Betty shrugged. “I sleep in tank tops and shorts mostly.”
“Well this just won’t do.” Veronica seemed to think for a moment before scrunching her face in a dissatisfied nature. “I suppose… I could grab one of Jughead’s t-shirts from the laundry. It’s clean, but like, he’s so grungy.”
Betty’s eyebrows rose in shock. “No, I—.”
“It’s not ideal, but it’ll have to do.” Veronica said, ignoring Betty’s concern. She raced off to their laundry room, and came back a few moments later with a folded grey t-shirt. “Go put this on,” she said as she handed the t-shirt over to Betty. “And hurry, I want to get my drink on!”
Betty sauntered into the bedroom, holding the shirt in front of her with both hands as if she were afraid of wrinkling it. Not that it would matter. All of his clothes are wrinkled, she thought.
It took little time to replace the shirt she’d been wearing, but she wasn’t prepared for the feeling she got as she looked into the mirror above the dresser.
Her shorts were no longer visible under his big t-shirt, which darned a giant S across the front. The excess fabric from the sleeves drooped below her arms and the neckline was slightly baggy. The shirt had made her figure completely disappear, leaving nothing but her long legs exposed.
Betty giggled as she watched him search his floor for his t-shirt.
“I swear to god, I threw it over here. I’m not crazy.” He glanced at Betty. “Am I crazy?”
“Mm, no.” Betty said thoughtfully. “But you were a little distracted.”
Jughead shot a smirk in her direction and continued his search. Betty slowly snuck the deep red shirt from behind her back, opting to slip it on over her bare body instead of the clothes that were not scattered around his bedroom.
“How did my bedroom just eat my shirt?!” He exclaimed, rubbing his forehead in frustration and pushing a few strands of sweat soaked hair out of his face.
“Maybe it’s a lost cause,” She whispered innocently.
Jughead turned to her, his facial expression turning from that of irritation to mischievous. A smile grew on Betty’s face as he pounced onto her, his headboard hitting the wall loudly. They both erupted in laughter before Betty raised her right hand to cover his mouth, using her left to cover her own. “Shh!”
Jughead smirked, rolling onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow. “Okay, but in all honesty,” his eyes grazed over her body, taking her in as if she were a glass of cold lemonade on a hot summer day. “There’s just something about you in my t-shirt that makes me feel like an absolute pervert.”
Betty bit her lip, placing her legs just close enough to his that they touched. “And why is that?”
“Because all I can think about is the vulgar things I’m going to do to you next time.”
Betty’s entire face went red. “Next time?”
He wants a next time?
“I mean, I—.” Jugheads cheeks seemed to go pink, embarrassment flickering through his eyes. “Uh, I just, I mean, if you— um, if you don’t—.”
“Jughead.” Betty interrupted him, placing her delicate hand against his cheek to cup it. “Of course I want to do that again.”
Jughead let out a sigh of relief, placing his hand atop her own. “Thank god, because I really don’t think I can go back jerking—.”
“Juggie!” Betty exclaimed, lightly smacking his chest with her free hand. “You’re disgusting!”
Jughead let a chuckle escape his lips as he shook his head. “Oh please, it’s not like you don’t.”
“That’s different.”
Jughead let a sweet smile replace his smirk as he leaned in and placed a gentle peck on her nose. “You’re different, Betty Cooper.”
“Hellooooooo?” Veronica’s aggrieved voice sounded through the door, shattering through Betty’s thoughts. “How long does it take you to change into a t-shirt, B?!”
“Sorry!” Betty offered as she opened the door, an apologetic expression growing on her face. “My mom called to check-in. Just had to give her the all-good.”
“Well next time, text her.” Veronica rolled her eyes and walked back to the couch, grabbing the bottle of tequila from the coffee table. Betty followed behind, leaving her bedroom door cracked.
“What are we drinking to?” Betty asked, sitting on the arm of the couch, her lets outstretched in front of her.
Veronica furrowed her brows, contemplating the question as she unscrewed the lid from the bottle and tossed it to the side. “Oh!” She exclaimed. “To the fact that we didn’t see each other for an entire year, and yet here we are, as close as the day you left! No drama, no awkwardness, no secrets.”
Betty nodded, a tight smile growing across her lips.
“We can’t tell anyone.” He said directly, gazing around the Blue and Gold where they’d been meeting every day for the last month at lunch.
“I know,” She agreed. “V would hate me.”
“Hate you?” Jughead scoffed. “She’d bury me alive.”
“I know,” Betty sighed, her head dropping. She knew they didn’t have a choice, but god, she wanted to be able to hold his hand in the hallways at school and go out on dates with him, and be able to tell her best friend. “It just sucks.”
“Hey…” Jughead placed his finger under her chin and lifted her head to look at him. “For what it’s worth, it’s kind of hot. You know, a dirty little secret.”
“To B and V!” Veronica proclaimed, bringing the bottle to her lips and taking a long swig.
Betty took the bottle from Veronica and called out the same proclamation before taking an equally as long drink.
“Gah!” Betty stuck her tongue out and shook her head as she handed the bottle back to Veronica. “Couldn’t grab a few limes or a chaser, V?”
Veronica giggled as she took another swig. “Oh please, Betty. Those are for pussies. We are not pussies.” With that, Veronica handed the bottle back to Betty and reached for the remote, turning the television on and switching to the Spotify playlist that she had carefully curated for their night.
Within fifteen minutes, the girls had downed most of the bottle and were messily dancing in the middle of the living room.
“Tell me why I didn’t think this was a good idea originally,” Betty blurted over the music that danced through her ears, bidding her to follow its lead.
“Cause you were tired!” Veronica shouted back before erupting into a fit of laughter. “Oh my god, could you imagine if we pronounced tired like it was spelled?!”
Betty raised an eyebrow as the song switched from Low Key by Ally Brooke to Havana by Camila Cabello.
“Tie… Red!”
Betty burst into laughter at Veronica’s realization, which caused Veronica to laugh even harder. They fell to the floor, holding their stomachs as they fought off giggles.
With a few shots down and her best friend by her side, she was ready to forget all about last summer.
For now.
Betty woke up in a drunken haze, staring around the unfamiliar room. Despite how long she tried to stare into the darkness, her eyes just couldn’t seem to adjust; but her bladder was full and she would either fight off the demons in the darkness to get to the bathroom, or she’d pee the bed, and she wasn’t about to pee on sheet’s that cost more than her prom dress.
Betty rolled to the side of the bed, throwing her feet over to the side and pushing herself up to stand.
It took a few minutes for the room to stop spinning.
When she finally felt confident in her ability to walk, she stumbled sloppily towards the direction of the bathroom door. “Ow!” She exclaimed as her hip caught the edge of the doorknob. Her fingers floundered around the handle until she finally gripped it, pulling the door open dramatically and letting it slam behind her.
She walked towards the toilet and let the shorts fall from her legs as she sat down on the perfectly white throne, relieving herself from the unholy amount of tequila that she had consumed that night. She leaned back against the back of the toilet, really soaking in the coolness of the ceramic. It felt so good against her body.
After a few moments — well, she didn’t actually know how long she’d been there — of sitting there, she finally rose and flushed the toilet. She scurried out of her shorts, opting to pull up just her light pink undies because why not?
She quickly washed her hands, avoiding her gaze in the mirror. I don’t want to know how much of a mess I am, she thought.
Her eyes glanced to the door besides the counter, and then back to the door on the other side of the toilet.
Which door did I come through?
Betty thought long and hard about this before coming to the conclusion that it was the one beside the toilet. She shut the bathroom light off and wobbled through the door she’d chosen, her vision still refusing to adjust. It took a few moment’s to find the bed, but she finally tripped upon it, letting her entire body fall against the comforter.
It was the sound of a door handle jingling that made Betty’s eyes flutter open tiredly. The room around her was still dark, signaling to Betty that it wasn’t quite morning yet, or she’d slept for far too long.
Her eyes drifted to the alarm clock besides the bed, the digital 3:47AM illuminated in green. Why the hell was Veronica trying to come into her room at 3:47AM?
Wait. Betty’s eyes opened wider as her eyes darted from the alarm clock to the door, and then back to the alarm clock. I don’t remember there being an alarm clock.
“You don’t think I fucking know that, Pea?”
Oh my god.
The door opened, the slightest sliver of light appearing on the other side of the room as a male body slipped into the bedroom. The door shut and so did any light in the bedroom.
Oh my god.
“I’m aware it’s dangerous.” The male spoke lowly, his voice gruff. He threw something that sounded like keys onto something that was sat beside the door. “No, I didn’t ask questions, dumbass. When have we ever asked questions?”
Betty stared at the body that seemed to pace around the room, his body cloaked in shadows.
“We’re meeting at the warehouse on Fifth. Be there by midnight, and not a second later.” He was quiet for a few moments. “Yes, Sweet Pea. Bring the guns.”
Betty let out a quiet gasp. Guns? Why did he need guns? Where was he bringing the guns to? A warehouse on Fifth? Wasn’t Fifth on the Southside?
“Just throw them in Toni’s trunk, and we’ll go through them at the warehouse. And I’m serious, Pea. Don’t be late.”
With that, he seemed to end his call. Betty stared in shock, unsure of what she’d just heard. She wanted nothing more than to bolt for the bathroom door and explain in the morning. She wanted to hide under the bed or, hell, jump out of the window and hope she lands somewhere soft.
He let out a long sigh and seemed to raise his hands to his face, rubbing it in frustration. “Fuck,” he mumbled as he reached for the light switch.
Oh my god.
The light turned on, illuminating the bedroom that was clearly not the guest room. Instead, Betty was surrounded by a room painted light green, with posters of different authors decorating the walls. There was a sizable desk sat beside the door, holding a lamp, a laptop, and the keys he’d thrown. The room wasn’t messy, but it wasn’t clean. A pile of laundry lay beside a laundry hamper, and a couple of wadded up pieces of paper were scattered among the room.
It looks exactly the same, she thought before her thoughts were abruptly interrupted.
“Betty?”