Work Text:
Vanilla Milkshakes
And all I knew was that I was in the mood for something sweet…
Jughead was occupying his usual seat in his typical booth at Pop's Shoppe, fingers flying over the keys of the laptop he has had for too long but still hadn't updated since it functioned just fine as a place to write and store his stories on. With concentration creasing his brow and two now-empty cups of the coffee that Pop always freely supplied Jughead with within reaching distance, was how Betty found him. She had spotted him instantly, his colorless ensemble and crown beanie standing out amongst the pops of color and cliques of friends. Betty debated for a few fleeting seconds whether she should seek out his company, but Jughead's particular dose of reclusion was exactly what she wanted. So, she made her way over to him and slid into the booth across from him without making her presence known beforehand or asking.
Jughead's head tilted up only the slightest amount as he regarded the fair-haired and fair-skinned girl, noticing the minor pout her lips held, the redness that lingered in her eyes and the way she kept her limbs close to her body as if she could turn herself invisible by simply doing so. She held onto the silence, not disturbing him until he was ready, something he had always appreciated dearly when it came to her. Finally, after finishing the paragraph in front of him, Jughead met Betty's eyes over his laptop, hands already at the top of the screen so he could push it closed. "You're not looking so lively over there, Betts. What's the matter?"
She pulled up her shoulders, shrugging off whatever she was dealing with because she was having second thoughts about burdening him with it. It was right there in her body language and blue eyes that have always been overly expressive. It still annoyed him to no end when she backpedaled like this. "I don't want to interrupt your creative process."
He closed his laptop with a roll of his eyes. "You wouldn't have sought me out if that had indeed been your intention. Now, tell what it is that has managed to steal your sunshine away."
He didn't formulate it as a question, but more as a demand, knowing that this was the best way to incite her.
Betty crossed her arms on the table, resting her chin on them as she looked up at him, a miserable look dulling the bright blue of her eyes. "I'm not sure how much of this you actually want to hear."
Jughead leaned one elbow on the table, cupping his hand and making a 'bring it on' gesture with his fingers. "Give it to me anyway."
She sighed, lifting her head from her arms. "So, I don't know if you know this, but I've basically had this crush on Archie ever since I was old enough to have them, crushes," she blurted out without taking a breath.
One of his eyebrows quirked up in amusement, though he managed to keep a serious expression on his face. "You holding a torch for the town's heartthrob is news to me."
She narrowed her eyes at the blatant sarcasm in Jughead's voice. Flattening her palms against the table, she made to get up. "Never mind," she murmured. "Happy writing," she added as a lackluster afterthought while getting up. She tapped her nails against the hard surface a few times as she stood there, lost in thought as if she already forgot what she was doing.
The guilt hit him instantly and he cursed silently at himself for not being able to read people better and recognizing the idiosyncrasies that made up Betty Cooper, even though he knew that he was simply not paying enough attention. He felt an influx of disappointment skitter down his spine and his body reacted on impulse as his hand shot out and his fingers wrapped around Betty's wrist, keeping her right where she was. "I'll attempt to reign in my sardonic nature," he offered up somewhat apologetically. "Stay?"
She bit her lip, considering him. In the end, she only nodded and sat back down, crossing her arms and not looking at the boy who had hair so dark it reminded her of a starless night. The lack of light had always suited him. "I know we're only friends because of Archie, but I need you to not be biased."
The words weren't meant to cut as deep as they did, reminding Jughead only of how much his friendship with Archie had changed in the course of months. People weren't always what they seemed, too many sides to them to truly know them unless they bared them candidly and willingly. He scoffed. "And risk my integrity. Plus, you forget that Archie and I aren't exactly besties anymore, though that's a story for another time."
Betty didn't react to his words the way he had expected. She didn't ask for clarification of any kind. She merely stored the information for later and continued on. "I told him, Juggy. About how I feel, everything, just put it all out there."
"His reaction?" Jughead inquired, surprised to find that he didn't have to feign his interest in the answer. Deep inside there was a faint throb that echoed through his entire body, keeping the lines of his body taut as he sat there, waiting.
"Isn't it obvious?" Betty used both hands to indicate at herself and the hints of the distressed state she had been in minutes before walking in here. "He loves me." She shrugged. "But as his closest friend, nothing more. And if I'm being honest with myself, I knew it. I should've just kept my mouth shut." She looked down while wrapping her arms protectively around herself as if it could shield her heart. Betty quickly blinked away the tears.
A feeling of dread wrapped its metaphorical digits around his heart, squeezing hard enough for the pain to resonate. He focused on that emotion instead of on the relief he also felt at her words. "You shouldn't regret being honest," Jughead told her gently. "Yeah, you went out on a limb, but with all the time you two spend together and the mixed signals Archie tends to give off, I don't blame you for wanting to know where you stand."
"In the friendzone, apparently," Betty chided herself. Tears formed once again and she ducked her head quickly, wiping the droplets from her cheeks as they fell.
"You'll be alright in the end. You're strong," were the words of comfort Jughead contributed in a somewhat ungraceful matter since alleviating somebody's pain wasn't something he did often or well. He tended to run. But it was Betty and she didn't waver when it came to standing up for everybody but herself, so she needed him to try for her.
Betty nodded. "I know, I just hate having to be sometimes."
"Understandable." He granted her a timid smile.
Betty nodded again, taking a deep breath. She was about to thank Jughead for listening, but she wasn't permitted the chance to.
"Hey bae," were the words thrown at her by none other than Reggie, the prime colors of his jacket a bright contrast to Jughead's gray tones and Betty's pastel tints.
One of Jughead's eyebrows shot up in, eyes torn from the blond in front of him.
Betty's jaw tightened and her lips pressed together for a split second, annoyed by the football player's sudden and unwanted presence. She tolerated Reggie because how could she downright loathe him for simply being an athlete and popular when Archie was those things as well. Still, she tended to only interact with him when directly spoken to and only when part of a group, which typically included Archie or Veronica. The irony wasn't lost on her, especially considering how seamlessly her appearance allowed her to slip into a stereotype of her own.
"Don't call me that," Betty retorted, aware of how halfhearted it really sounded. Reggie was a nuisance but mostly harmless.
Reggie directed a wide grin at Betty while signaling to both her and Jughead with his index finger as he formed his own conclusion, "You two on a date or something?"
Jughead rolled his eyes. "Because it's impossible for a male and female to form and sustain a platonic relationship." And he truly meant what he was saying, although he also heard the feelings that were lurking near the surface.
"Uh, one always ends up humping the other," Reggie pointed out, the sarcasm lost on him.
"That's quite the imagery there, Mantle," Jughead replied, sharing a quick look with Betty.
The blond let out an exasperated sigh, though managed to hold on to her characteristic composed demeanor. "We're not on a date, Reggie. Just hanging out. Is there something we can help you with?"
Jughead shook his head at her, but it was a fruitless gesture. Reggie had already taken the opening, his grin expanding. "Maybe you can," he said, sliding into the booth next to Betty while slinging one arm around the back so it was resting behind her. "As you know I am quite a popular commodity amongst the ladies."
"In your humble opinion," Jughead remarked.
"You wouldn't know the first thing about that, Forsythe," the other boy shot back, although he didn't spare a look in Jughead's direction, his focus instead on Betty. "But the pool's looking a little shallow these days and then I came to the realization that we," he paused to point at Betty and then at himself, "never went out before."
Betty straightened in her seat as she felt Reggie's fingers toying with the edges of her ponytail. Her blond locks slipped from his hold. "I don't date much."
"Well, you should," Reggie voiced his opinion. "You're hot, Betty. You think you're hiding it from us with all those clothes…"
"It's a blouse and a pair of jeans," Betty specified.
Reggie ignored her words and she wondered if he was indeed so clueless or that he was merely steering the conversation so that he would ultimately get what he came for. "Showing a little skin is preferable, just putting it out there for our date."
He ended with a smile that was charming enough and was meant to disarm, but Betty was jaded. She knew the intent behind his shiny exterior and was holding out for something more, even though she also recognized that this wasn't one of those romance novels she sometimes indulged in. "I'm not going out with you, Reggie," she declared to him candidly.
"Come on, Betty," Reggie tried again, leaning in a little closer to her while his gaze turned too leering for her comfort. "I'll make it worth your while."
She placed a hand on his chest, stopping him from thrusting himself into her personal space even further. "I think I'll pass," she said with just a tad more force behind her words.
Reggie's expression was incredulous as he took in what she was saying. "Is it cause of Forsythe here." He cocked his thumb at the beanie-donning teenager. "Because I always thought he preferred the—"
"You would," Betty cut him off sharply.
Reggie's eyes widened and the lines of his body tensed. "Someone's getting defensive." He nodded. "I see what's going on here. Does Archie know? Or are you double dipping, Cooper?" He clucked his tongue, leaning in close once more so only Betty could hear the following words. "So prim and proper when you're secretly a real sl—"
The word never fully formed, something Betty was grateful for because she would have lashed out, even though they were only intended to hurt at the moment and didn't really hold any meaning at all. Jughead got up and had his hands on Reggie's jacket before the other boy could react, pulling him from the booth with unexpected force. "That's enough," Jughead announced, letting go of Reggie the instant the boy was on his feet, a firm believer that violence only exacerbated situations. "She said no, so take the hint and meander off."
"Whoa whoa." Reggie put up both of his hands. "No need to get handsy. Save it for your girlfriend," he added with a wink. He adjusted his jacket. "If you need any pointers, come find me." He chuckled, giving Betty one final look before walking off.
Jughead waited until Reggie had left the diner before sitting back down.
"Thanks, Juggy," Betty acknowledged. "For listening as well, and not picking a side," she finished the list.
Jughead nodded, smiling at her.
Betty's face revealed a wisp of a smile as well, one she tried to get the attention off of by lowering her gaze and reaching for a menu. "Are you hungry?" she asked. "Unless you have to get back to your writing, of course."
"I can make time," Jughead gave her the answer she was hoping for, not ready yet to leave his company.
Betty's eyes didn't so much as skim the menu since she knew it by heart. She put it back in its place while signaling one of the waitresses. "A large basket of fries and two milkshakes." She eyed Jughead.
"I've always been prone to vanilla." A vanilla milkshake had never tempted Jughead as much as it did right at this moment.
"Two vanilla milkshakes, please," Betty continued, unable to hide the faint pink color that had spread to her cheeks.
Something about Jughead's words felt intimate as if they were meant to contain more than a simple milkshake flavor. As if the flavor was somehow associated with her. All she could picture were his lips around the straw and she didn't know where to look.
Therefore, after their order came, both Betty and Jughead sipped their milkshakes and ate their fries in a contemplative silence, his mouth full of vanilla and her mind full of him.