"Betty," Archie calls as he comes through the door, "you here?"
"Where else would I be," she laughs from the couch.
"I don't know," he shrugs, setting his keys on the breakfast bar, "out seducing some poor sap on the street."
"So I'm a corner store whore now," she scoffs.
"You said it, not me," he laughs, ducking quickly out of the way as she hurls a throw pillow at his head.
"So, what's the deal with Jughead," she wonders as she joins him in the kitchen.
"What do you mean," he mumbles with a mouthful of water.
"I don't know." She hops up on the counter. "He seems, guarded?"
Archie laughs, "I guess. What do you care?"
"I don't," she replies quickly, hopping down from the counter.
"Awe come on," Archie scolds. "You fucked him didn't you?"
Betty says nothing, her eyes downcast to a very interesting splotch in the linoleum that looks oddly like a duck.
"My roommate? Seriously Betty, what the hell," he groans.
"What? He's hot," she shrugs.
Archie lets a disgruntled sigh, his brow heavy as he hurries to the bathroom. Betty chases after him, being shoved out of the bathroom as the door closes in her face.
"Archie, come on. Who cares," she tries, but the only response she's met with is the sound of the shower turning on. "You don't have to do this," she huffs, slumping back against the door with her arms folded over her chest.
A few short minutes later, the door swings open, Betty almost falling backwards as he shoves past her to find clothes in his room.
"Archie, come on," she pleads. "What's the big deal?"
"What's the- Betty he's twenty four, you're underage, and I'm a cop. It doesn't get much worse than that."
"You're going to arrest him," she shrieks.
"Wha- No I'm not going to arrest him," he scoffs, tugging a shirt over his head. "I'm going to kick his ass."
"No you're not," she clips, tugging him back by the arm as he marches towards the front door. "Archie! Leave him alone!"
"I can't do that Betty," he shakes his head. "You don't fuck your roommates sister, you just- It's just something you don't fucking do."
"He didn't," she argues, earning a doubtful raise of his brow. "I mean, he did, but I didn't really give him a choice."
"Of course he had a choice," he scoffs, prying her hand from his arm and finally getting out the door. "He chose to fuck my underage sister and now he's a dead man."
"Archie! Archie please," she calls after him as he trudged down the hall to the elevator. "Dammit," she grumbles under her breath, slamming the door as she storms back inside.
A few blocks away at the Whyte Wyrm, Jughead is busy serving endless drinks to the drunkards of the night when he catches sight of Archie across the room. Immediately, he senses somethings off before he's abruptly tugged forward over the bar by the collar of his shirt, the shot he'd just finished pouring spilling onto the floor below.
"Uh, hey Arch," he greets shakily.
"Don't hey Arch me," he grits. "You fucked my sister."
Jughead swallows hard, "I didn't know she was your sister... The first time."
"The first- shit," he grumbles, releasing Jughead to drop into the barstool beside him. "You fucked her more than once? Christ, she's been here for like a day. And what the hell happened to I don't want some random fuck," he mocks.
"I don't," he assures him as he replaces the spilled shot, handing it to the waiting customer a few feet away. "I just- I don't even know. I was just smoking and she wanted to smoke and I don't know, it just happened."
"It just happened," Archie scoffs. "Look man, I'm not going to pretend Betty doesn't get around, but I'd appreciate it if you kept your dick out if my sister."
Jughead nods. "If I had known she was underage, it would have never even happened in the first place."
Archie nods slowly, his tongue in his cheek as he calms his urge to knock some sense into his friend.
"We good," Jughead questions doubtfully.
"Yea man, we're good." He claps his hand over Jughead's in a resolving handshake. "Just, you know, keep it in your pants huh?"
"Will do," he salutes, moving to the other end of the bar where he was flagged down by a tipsy customer.
It's nearly three in the morning when Betty gives up on sleep. She's been up all night worrying what Archie had done to Jughead earlier this evening. She can't stop thinking about him and it's hardly desirable while sharing a bed with her drunk brother.
Out in the kitchen, Betty makes herself some chamomile tea in hopes that it will ease her mind. She takes it to the couch, where she flicks on the TV but pays no mind to it as it drolls in the quiet of the apartment. Her mind wanders back to Jughead, his stormy blue eyes that seem to gaze into her very soul. The way his raven hair falls into his eyes and how incredible it looks all mussed up from a roll in the sheets. Archie hadn't said a word to her when he returned and she's dying to know if Jughead's beautiful face has been rearranged.
After finishing her tea, Betty is no more ready for bed than she had been in the first place. As a last resort, she makes her way to Jughead's room. She pauses outside the door, unsure if the offer still stands for her to help herself to his stash. He's already upset with her, so what could it hurt she supposes as she pushes open his door.
Not twenty minutes later, the remainder of a joint between her lips, does Jughead arrive home.
"Betty, you need to go," he sighs, leaning against the doorframe.
"I was just," she holds up the roach before dropping it into his ashtray and rising from his bed. "I wanted to make sure Archie didn't actually kick your ass."
"And if he had," he challenges as he comes nearer to where she's standing beside the bed.
"I might have had to make you feel better," she coos, her lips brushing against the skin of his neck as she whispers against his ear.
Jughead shivers, giving her a hardened glare.
"Awe, are you angry Juggy," she teases. "Have I been naughty?"
With a quick hand, he snatches her wrist, removing her fingers from their descent along his abdomen, earning an annoyingly sexy pout of her lower lip.
"I promised Archie that I would keep my dick out of you and you are making that incredibly hard," he groans, rolling his eyes as Betty smirks down at the bulge in his jeans.
Betty proceeds to drop to her knees in front of him, her fingers going for the button on his jeans.
"Betty, I'm serious," he scolds, slapping her hands away before she can pull down his zipper.
Her hands return immediately, a coy smile on her lips as she tugs his jeans and boxers down his thighs. As his cock springs free, he releases a heavy sigh, his hand slipping into her hair and forcing her to look up at him while shoving her nearer to his waiting erection.
"So fucking bad," he grits through his teeth with the flick of her tongue against his swollen tip.
Betty smirks, his grip on her hair loosening as she peppers kisses along the length of his hardened shaft.
"Fuck. Betty stop," he pleads, though his hips buck forward in search of more friction.
"Your cock isn't inside me Juggy," she toys, "we're not really breaking your promise, are we?"
With the wrap of her fingers around his base, he lets a rough grunt, trailing off into a low moan as she begins to stroke him from base to tip. Her tongue and lips join in, sucking and flicking at his sensitive tip as she finds a rapid pace with the stroke of her hand.
"I'm gonna cum," he chokes out, his lazy hand in her hair gripping tighter to angle her head back. Her mouth opens wide, her tongue patiently waiting and her eyes squeezed shut as he quickly loses himself.
"Oh, fuck," he grunts, chuckling lazily as he takes in the mess he's made on her pretty face.
With the glint of a smirk in her eyes, she swallows down the bit that managed to land on her tongue and heads into his bathroom to clean up.
Upon her return, she drops a kiss to his cheek, muttering a "bye juggy," before returning to Archie's room.
Jughead forgoes a shower, too drained from work and the abnormal amount of times he's gotten off in the last twenty four hours. He's out like a light the moment his head hits the pillow, without even a thought for the promise he's just broken.