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This is RATED M. Now…Betty and Jughead are finally in the same room.

RATED M. RATED M.

Betty POV.

Part XIII.

"Jug?" I ask.

"Betty," he says, looking over at me. He looks tired, worn out and sleepy. But he still looks like him. He looks more like him than any expression I have seen for a while.

"Are we better yet?" I ask in a mumbled, annoyed voice. My body still hurts but it has been two days of laying in this bed, waiting for something to change.

"At least we don't have poison coursing through our veins anymore," he says.

That is at least a good point. I roll my head to the side to look at him. I want to walk over and curl up next to him but my legs are tired. I decide that I could use the exercise. Jughead almost tries to get me to sit back down when I flip my legs over the edge of the bed and walk over to him. He opens his arms for me, almost rolling his eyes.

I lay next to him, putting my head on his chest and feeling his warmth almost immediately. It makes me feel good again, and incredibly safe, which I have not felt in a long time. Jug squeezes my shoulder to him. He rests his head down on mine. We interlock our fingers. He is holding me so tight, as if I might leave if he doesn't hold onto me.

"You okay, Juggie?" I ask. I can both feel and hear him sigh. He rests his shoulders down, contorting his whole body to be closer to me, pressed against me, as close as we can get.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he assures. But his body is shaking. His heart is fluttering. I can feel it in his chest. His hands are trembling, though they are holding onto me so tightly I am losing circulation.

"Jug," I whisper to him, tracing patterns along his hand and arm until they travel to his shoulder. He shivers but smiles at me so I continue as he watches.

"You're heart stopped, Betty," he says, his voice cracking and his hand going to his mouth. I put my hand to the side of his face, trying to suppress the tears that come to my eyes when I see him. He looks so terrified, so shaken.

"I'm right here," I assure. It doesn't help. It is not enough. He needs me to show him that I am with him.

I look to the door and then back to him. It's dark. It has been for some hours now. No one is around. No one checks on us at night anymore. We have that guard still posted outside of our room. Maybe I can show him just how close we can be.

"Jughead," I say.

I reach up to his face and kiss him. He kisses me back. I don't think he understand what I am trying to do when I kiss him deeper, sending my arms around his neck and my body closer to his. Our kisses travel as his hands reach their favorite spot on my breasts and then back on my waist where he squeezes me. This goes on for several minutes.

I reach down to touch him.

He gasps, closes his eyes and leans his head back. One nice thing about hospital gowns: easy access.

"Wait," he says, grabbing my hand.

I look into his eyes, questioning what he is doing. He looks conflicted and still a little scared.

"Someone tried to kill us, Betty. He came back here and tried to take our lives," he says.

Way to kill the mood.

"I know, Jug. But he's gone now. The Serpents and your dad are looking for him all the time. He's not going to get past the armed guard or Fangs at the door. I promise, Jug."

He nods.

"You're scared. You're still thinking too much. Let me take all of that away," I beg of him. "Let me show you something good."

He doesn't respond but I don't need him to. I lean up to kiss him. This time he doesn't stop me when I reach my hand down to touch him. We touch and kiss like this for a long time, his hand finding me just as easily as I found him. Soon, he is on top of me, pushing our gowns out of the way and reach between us.

"Betty," he sighs when he looks into my eyes, right above me. I love to see him this way, his body needing me and his mind wanting to share all of his love. He is closer to me than he normally is, his body almost on me completely.

"I can't…my arms aren't—"

"What is it?" I ask him, making him look to me. I keep my hands on his head and in his hair as he stares, almost completely naked. All he has is the hospital gown around his waist.

"I'm not strong enough yet," he says. "To hold all of my weight the whole time."

"I don't think I can either, Jug," I admit. Maybe we are too weak for this.

"I have a different idea," he says.

I nod. He flips around behind me so we are spooning. I don't get it at first until I feel him against me. Then I understand. He holds me close, keeping his arm around me as he pushes into me. He kisses down my neck, holding onto my body as I moan for him.

"Keep going, Jug," I beg.

He can't speak. He is too busy groaning in my ear, squeezing me and holding me tightly to him. He rests most of his body on the bed but can move enough that we move together in perfect harmony. I can feel all of him just like I wanted. It makes me gasp when he is this close.

"Betty," he whispers.

Finally, when we are breathing heavily, not able to hold back how good this feels, everything falls and complete euphoria comes over us both. I lay on him, putting all of my weight onto his tired body. Neither of us move. Neither of us speak. We don't have to. At least right here, right now we can feel safe.

That is, until we hear a grunt from the guard outside of the room and the door swings open.