A/N my first Riverdale fic and unbeta-ed as i felt a bit cheeky asking my beloved Karoline beta garglyswoof to edit other fandoms.

Set in a little while after 2x08 after Archie and Betty inevitably get together (because that's where the writers are obviously going, sob!)

Bughead centric fic with hints of Barchie and Vughead (both temporary)

Ooopsy somehow managed to post this initially without the final couple of paragraphs

It started with a glass of whiskey. Or did it? Maybe it started before that, with a reluctant sigh as she took a seat beside him earlier that evening at Pop's; with his unenthused nod of assent when she'd stood beside the booth and asked tonelessly. "Can I join?"

No, he thinks, the chain of events that led him to this - sitting on the edge of her bed pulling his shirt back over his head and looking anywhere other than at the woman lying behind him - started a week ago. The first time Archie publically put his arm around Betty and he'd seen Veronica's back go stiff for just a second before she'd laughed melodiously at something Kevin had said, her armour of style and scorn drawn tight around her.

He glances back at the bed as he stands, fighting down the building nausea enough to give the shamelessly naked beauty sprawled across it a solemn, regretful, nod. She doesn't nod back, she just turns away to lie on her side, her back elegant and pale, her hair black and sleek against the pillow.

It began, he decides finally as he exits the Pembroke through the back entrance, a week earlier even than that with a characteristic attempt at nobility.

"I know it's awkward" Archie had said. "And if it's too weird for you, or for V-"

He'd interrupted Archie's predictable offer to not pursue things with Betty if it would destroy their friendship. Told himself he had no right to jealousy and she every right to happiness.

"It's fine man," his assurance had sounded more brittle than he'd hoped and even Archie, oblivious as he so often is, had read his confliction and frowned.

"Jug-"

"No honestly, it's fine," he'd sounded surer that time and surer still as he'd continued. "Just treat her right, Ok? Treat her better than I did"

Yes, that's when it started, when he'd given his blessing to the budding romance between his best friend and the only girl he'd ever cared about.

Then there'd been those few subtle displays of affection between the two that had struck him like a knife in the heart. There'd been those few times in the aftermath his eyes had met Veronica's and he'd seen his own agony reflect back in their darkness.

It had all led to that first glass of whiskey and Veronica's toast when they'd somehow ended up together in her empty penthouse with a bottle of whiskey and a pile of shared misery between him. "To Barchie!"

They'd drunk and she'd poured a second and a third in silence before eventually she'd spoken again. "You know what sucks?" she's asked and without waiting for answer continued. "We're not even allowed to be mad. We have to be ok with it"

"We hurt them first," he hadn't even tried to sound convincing. Knowing how her feelings mirrored his. That same crawl of jealousy in the throat, that same impotent churn of anger and betrayal in the gut.

An hour later and the bottle had been almost gone and he'd listened, with no input offered or required, to Veronica talk their exes' relationship and their reaction too it round and round in circles until she'd finally tucked her legs up under her and turned to face him where he slouched beside her on the sofa. "I know it's mean and petty but I just want-" She'd trailed off with a frustrated sigh, unable to articulate this seething, weeping, anger they live with.

"For them to know how it feels?" he'd asked, knowing the answer, feeling the same answer in every spiteful beat of his broken heart.

"Yeah," shame and relief had rung in the hushed tone of her admission and he'd nodded; he knows those feelings well.

He'd shrugged, agreeing and commiserating in one languid movement. They have no power to inflict this pain on Betty and Archie, even if they were justified in their tawdry desire to do so. "We wouldn't even if we could," he'd told her.

"Wouldn't we?" Veronica had looked at him with dark unreadable eyes that could have been either desperate or venomous. "Couldn't we?"

He'd known of course that he should leave, her intent had been written in the unnatural alcohol brightness of her eyes. In the tilt of her body towards his. She certainly hadn't been thinking straight but then neither had he and the whisky had fed the stupid bitter part of his mind that was whispering that this is how they could take back some shred of control over their foundered hearts.

So, he'd kissed her. Kissed her like he's never kissed anyone before, although his list is admittedly short, he kissed her with a clawing desperate anger. Anger at himself for letting Betty go, at Archie for taking his place so easily, as if it were his friend who'd always been meant to stand at her side. At Veronica for dragging him down this path. At Betty, of course at Betty, for moving on so easily when he thinks he never will. For being what he longs for her to be, happy.

His first time. It should have been her, bright and innocent Betty. They should have broken this barrier together, awkward and unsure, laughing, maybe, breathless, certainly. Probably making a mess of it together.

Instead he had Veronica, worldly and dark, passionate, drunk and vengeful in his arms. He took her without thought, neither knowing nor caring if he got it right, although Veronica's moaning pants were probably a reliable indicator of success. He'd followed her lead, hard kisses that were more teeth than lips and handfuls of silky dark hair in his fist. Her soft flesh bruising on her hips as he'd gripped her while her nails drew blood down the length of his spine.

She'd grunted like an animal in his ear as she came. He imagines that with Archie she never allowed herself to sound so base and the thought had made him hungry for more. To drive her to a place Archie never took her, even if that place is bawdy and licentious.

He'd stilled his body and drawn himself back from the point of following her into release. He'd looked away when her hooded eyes had flutter open questioningly and pulled out of her to spin her around so she'd been on her hands and knees with the admittedly perfect curve of her arse enticing him just more than it had repelled him.

It should have been Betty and whispered words of love. Instead it had been Veronica on all fours cursing and panting as he'd driven them both into drunken disconsolate ecstasy.

tbc

Please let me know what you think, no Bughead yet but fear not it is coming