A/N: I'm so excited to write my first explicitly-stated aroace Jughead. I hope you all enjoy reading it because I certainly enjoyed writing it. These two melt my heart.
I ALREADY USED THESE LYRICS FOR MY BELLARKE FIC BUT I REALLY DON'T CARE BC IT'S SO PERFECT
tw for vague implied homophobia?
Rated T for language once again.
Lyrics from Grace Vanderwaal - Beautiful Thing
000
You're my other half
You're what makes me me
What makes me smile
when I fall down
000
Jughead doesn't initiate human contact.
It's just who he is.
Warm eyes always engage his first, arms opening wide for an embrace. A friendly grin, a pat on the shoulder that he doesn't necessarily squirm under. An arm slung around his shoulder, usually courtesy of Reggie, but for an extended period of time, he wouldn't appreciate it regardless of whose arm it was.
Touching isn't his thing. It's uncomfortable, too intimate for his mind to comfortably process. He keeps himself private, not always out of fear of vulnerability, but he simply enjoys his privacy. Cherishes it, even.
But he makes exceptions. For people he cares for.
When his dad couldn't stand on his own wobbling knees, Jughead offered his own steady ones to lean on. When a particularly bad day hung like a cloud over his dad's head, shame stirring in his features for far too long, Jughead would simply offer a quick hug, just long enough that his dad knew it's not just a hug, but short enough not to feel too awkward for him.
When Fred went out of his way to buy him a birthday present, or cook him a meal, or let him stay under his roof, Jughead would give him an easy side-hug of appreciation. A non-verbal thank you.
When Archie, sweet, naive, well-intentioned Archie obviously needed something more than Jughead could usually supply. When Archie's mom and dad separated, during the anniversaries of the date, when he simply hit a rough patch and struggled to climb out, Jughead would go out of his way to hug him, hold him, give him stupid assurances that Jughead considered meaningless but knew it meant something to someone who believed it. You're good. It's okay. You're going to be fine.
But it's reserved for those special to him, and for times they really need it.
So when Archie grabs his hand in the school hallway for the first time, as casual and easy as breathing for him, but startling for Jughead, his mind quickly files through the different reasons why something like that would... occur.
They'd grown closer recently. After the fallout over the summer was resolved, they were close again, perhaps even closer than before.
But to merit a handhold?
He's not sure, but he doesn't question it, thoughts too loud as he's half-dragged down the hallway for him to do anything about it. Arch lets go when they reach the cafeteria, maybe not even noticing what he'd done. They continue with their day. Jughead doesn't think about it.
That is, until it happens again. It becomes a common occurrence, maybe once a day (but who's counting?), at least. And it's always the same; seamless, natural for Archie, and Jughead still isn't sure he even notices he's doing it. He doesn't have the heart to pull away, but his gaze darts around to see if anyone else is watching. They are.
He ignores them. Besides, they're just holding hands. The school halls had definitely seen more... extreme gestures.
So he lets it slide. He lets Archie clasp their fingers together. He lets Archie smile with his teeth, lets him have these moments, lets him have what makes him happy. But he never initiates it.
But as per usual, he finds the exception rather quickly.
PG (post-Grundy) life for Archie is filled with whispered gossip and dirty looks. Some are amused by what most of the school could infer of the situation, others are disgusted. A few pity him.
None of these are favorable. Even on Archie's better days, smiles falter when he catches people staring at him like he's a criminal of some kind, or as if he carries some twisted trophy for what he's gone through. But it's on the worse days that Jughead finds a fire lit beneath his ribs.
Jabs and teases fly at his red-headed friend, several kids chiming in together to make his gaze fall, his step falter. To shame him.
And Jughead immediately snatches Archie's hand from his side, meeting his eyes to convey any stability he can offer, squeezing his grip until he sees some of the guilt flee from his face. Good, he thinks.
Then he looks to whoever started, contributed, or remotely encouraged the mockery and wills every ounce of intimidation into his stare. You even so much as look at him the wrong way and I'll punch you in the throat.
He isn't one for intimidation, never able to pull of glares. Dry looks and sarcasm were his fortes.
But somehow it must work, because the kids shrink under his gaze, the nastier ones losing their grins at least.
He holds Archie's hand until circumstance separates them.
Good.
And it is good.
Until the statutory rape jokes transition to mildly homophobic ones. They aren't so much poking fun at non-straight-ness as they are joking about the idea of his and Archie's relationship in general, but several sneered comments are thrown at them in regard to their hands sometimes being linked together. And if they can somehow incorporate the LGBTQ+ community into the brunt of the joke, they seize the opportunity gladly.
He hates people sometimes.
Scratch that, more like all of the time.
But he's learned to ignore them and their stupidity.
Yet something about this...
It's different.
He finds himself mulling over the idea in his head; him and Arch. In that way. It doesn't immediately tastes sour, so he considers it more and more, using the especially boring lectures in class as opportunities to think. Does Archie even already consider them...?
He literally has no idea. Had Archie just assumed their closeness to be romantic?
...Was it romantic? Or at the very least, not platonic?
It becomes borderline stressful for him to think about; his inability to decipher his own emotions. It's frustrating.
Yeah he likes Archie. Loves him too, of course, but...
Does that mean he loves him? Like that?
What does 'like that' even mean?
Sex is an immediate no—always has been, probably always will be. But dating—a romantic relationship? He hasn't thought about it before. With anyone, really.
But holding Arch's hand in the hallway slowly shifts in context, and he finds himself even more uncomfortable than before. He sucks it up some of the time. Other times, he shrugs the grasp away, trying not to notice the flash of... of something in Archie's eyes.
Archie stops even trying at some point.
When Jughead actually kind of misses it, he really starts to overthink it, thoughts stealing his focus during the day. Betty notices (why are you acting so weird around-), Veronica too, but especially, of course, Archie.
He avoids them. Him. Pretends not to notice him in the hall, eats his lunch outside, even makes sure not to use the bathroom at the same time as him to avoid an awkward confrontation at the sinks and mirrors. It goes on for nearly a week when Archie manages to catch him after school before he can hurry to the Andrews household and pretend to work on homework or his novel for the rest of the day.
Shit, shit, shit-
"Hey, Jug, wait up!" he hears behind him, accompanied by hurried footsteps. He cringes, stiffening, but forces a smile as he angles himself to face Archie without breaking stride. Play it cool, dumbass.
"Hey," he tosses back, hoping he sounds genuine, fine, everything is fine, you're overthinking everything-
"I wanted to talk to you." Uh, no, wait just- "You've been avoiding me."
He trips over a ridge in the sidewalk, posture deflating.
Straight to the point, then.
"I-I," he begins, but the words are already dying in his throat even as Archie casts him an almost self-depreciating half-smile. Wait-
"Don't even try to deny it," he says, wry, but there's something sad in his eyes.
Not good.
"Before you say anything else..." He trails off, gathering his thoughts, utilizing the patience in Archie's features. He doesn't deserve that patience. "...It's... It's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong, I just... In case you thought..." Fuck, I'm so awkward.
But the something sad ebbs away, not entirely, but enough, and a soft smile sweeps his features. But it quickly vanishes behind confusion.
"Then, what? If it wasn't me."
Uuhhh...
"I..." Words weren't his specialty. Well, technical definition, yes, literature, yes, but verbal interaction... no.
Dammit, just say it.
"Do you... think of our-" Find the right word; you're practically a walking dictionary when it serves you. "-our relationship as..."
His sentences tangle just as quickly as his thoughts, embarrassment mingling with his uncertainty until he glares at the ground as it passes beneath his feet.
"Oh."
His head whips up at the vocalized realization, relief swelling in his chest.
"You mean—ohh... I... I hadn't really thought about it, to be honest," he finally answers, almost sheepish.
Fucking sheepish.
He hadn't thought about it? Archie? Had Jughead really been the first one to consider romance for the first time in his life?
Damn. He can't tell Betty. She'll never let him live it down.
He coughs nervously, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets and raising his shoulders closer to his ears.
"I think..." he mutters, just under his breath but loud enough to hear.
He's thought about this before. But it's all kind of new to him. Research upon research of romantic orientations, since he already half-knew his sexual one (though he did not know there was a word for it).
But he doesn't know. Or... maybe he does?
He sighs against his thoughts, forcing them to quiet.
"I think I might be... aromantic." He swallows the lump in his throat, surprised by the jitters running through him. "Along with-with being asexual."
As much as he wants to glance over, find Archie's expression and read it, he can't bring himself to.
There's only silence and the sound of their shoes on the pavement. Just a moment.
Then, a huff of laughter.
A short and quick expulsion of air and amusement, a bit of ludicrousness, a chuckle.
He blinks.
What...?
"I, uh," Archie says, and yes, that is definitely amusement, no matter how much he's obviously trying to veil it. "I already knew that, Jug," he finishes with another puff of a laugh, a grin quirking his lips.
Fucking what?
He opens his mouth to ask, but Archie opens his first.
"Well, I didn't know, but... You were never interested in girls, so I thought you might be gay when we were younger, but it's been... years and you never showed interest in anything other than food, so. I did a quick google search, and the rest is pretty much self-explanatory."
'Self-explanatory'.
Jughead's lips are parted in barely-contained bewilderment.
"So... you're saying you knew my romantic preferences before my own fucking idiotic self did?"
To a stranger passing by unable to sort their specific wording, one might think they're simply talking about the weather, or something just a common. He's surprised by his own causality, to be honest. Considering he's kind of tripping the fuck out.
Another laugh, and as much as he would rather glower, he feels warmth sprout over his skin in response. Damn you, Andrews, for being so amused by this.
"I guess when you put it that way... yeah." More laughing.
A grin of his own twitches at his lips and he lightly shoves Archie on the shoulder, prompting even more laughter.
"And to think I was losing sleep over the thought of dating your ass," he says, not bothering to hide his smile.
"Dating my ass specifically? Well, I guess—there's probably a word for that preference somewher-"
"Fuck you, Andrews," he laughs, poking him in the head.
"If you insist, but I thought you said you were-"
"Oh my god!" he groans, pulling his beanie over his ears and picking up his pace. Archie's laughter follows after him.
He hears him catch up, but before he can spot the red hair and blue and yellow jacket in his peripheral, he feels a hand wrap around his. He glances up, meeting Archie's soft and questioning gaze as he comes astride.
The warmth almost feels nice after so long an absence.
He manages a small smile of confirmation, squeezing the hand back and trying not to feel too sappy about the relieved and so, so happy smile that spreads across Archie's face in response. His own tilted lips melt into something more gentle, fond.
Arch is happy. Jughead did that, at least today, in this moment. He did that for him.
Good.
000
You think that you know my heart
and you probably do
That's why I'm always with you
000
A/N: fjlafjal they're so soft kill me. Leave a review if you liked it, lovelies?