"Do you know if Jughead's going to Cheryl's party?"
Betty's eyes widened at the implications behind Veronica's deliberately flippant words. She blanched as her thoughts whirred messily around her brain.
"B?" her dark haired counterpart, nudged her side.
Shaking her head to regain coherent thought, Betty looked over at her best friend.
"Uh I'm not sure, sorry," she answered, green eyes scrutinising Veronica's face.
They continued walking for a moment, the air between them silent while the hallways filled with white noise of slamming lockers, and medial teenage chatter.
Stealing her nerve, Betty decided to further engage the topic. She was a little unsettled by the nausea bubbling in her stomach and the bile in her mouth at the thought of Veronica pursuing Jughead. It wasn't like he was hers- she didn't have a claim on him. But they were… something.
"Is there a reason you're asking V?"
Veronica paused and then turned to face her with a perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched in a way that suggested mischievous intent.
"Just that if he was going, I thought I might make a special effort to extend my hospitality. I mean being new is difficult, I would know."
Betty rolled her eyes. Usually her friend's cleverly crafted words that basically translated to looking for a new male conquest would entertain her. However, the subject matter it was directed at only served to ignite a green fire within her.
"Veronica he was a student here before you and only transferred to Southside for a few months," Betty pointed out dryly. "Admit it- you just want to get in his pants."
Veronica gasped dramatically, though her eyes were shining and Betty knew she wasn't really offended.
"Can you blame me? He's hot. How come you never mentioned you grew up with this generation's James Dean as part of your golden trio?"
Betty bit her lip. She knew he was hot. God she knew it a lot better than Veronica did. She had seen the abs beneath his flannels and black t-shirts. She had seen his hair wild and beanie-less, after it had been thoroughly tugged by her own hands. She had seen his eyes darkened with lust and heard the low tenor of his voice in the throes of passion. And now would probably be the perfect time to mention that she knew all of this. But for some reason the words wouldn't come.
Whatever it was she and Jughead were doing- and god were they doing it a lot- they hadn't really talked about it. It was just a thing. A thing that was good. A thing that was just between them. A thing she didn't know if he would want to be disclosed to the public. A thing that was so wonderfully simple yet so damn complicated at the same time.
"What are you wearing to the party anyway?" Betty asked deciding a change of subject was much safer territory yet staying on topic enough to not be suspicious.
"Well I just got the hottest outfit online-"Veronica began before her eyes widened and her mouth immediately clamped shut. "Speak of the outrageously attractive devil."
Betty looked at her in confusion, but just as she opened her mouth to question what the raven haired girl was on about a strong hand reached out to grab her wrist. Electricity sparked beneath her skin, alighting her whole body.
"Sorry, Betty can I borrow you for a sec?" Jughead's deep voice spoke confidently, leaving no room for objection. His blue eyes peered down at her piercingly, making her breath catch in her throat.
"Yeah, V I'll see you later," the blonde quickly dismissed tearing her eyes away from Jughead's for a moment before turning around to follow him down the crowded halls.
His strong grip didn't falter as he almost dragged her to the Blue and Gold "office". His determined steps and focussed gaze made Betty's stomach flip with anticipation. She recognised that look and her pulse was beating frantically at the ideas it conjured within her mind.
Within seconds of reaching their destination Jughead had Betty backed up against the door, the lock clicked into place and his mouth was on hers.
She gasped at the passionate attack, her hands fisting in his shirt as his body pressed up against hers. He smelt faintly of cigarette smoke and spice and that combined with the way his mouth was slanting hotly over hers was affecting her like a sedative, making her knees weak and her brain fuzzy.
His tongue traced the seam of her lips and she gladly opened her mouth wider. Her own tongue moved to dance with his, stroking erotically while she pressed herself impossibly closer to his warm body. One of his hands was pressed against the door next to her head caging her in while the other was making an arousing trek from her hip to her ribcage, thumb grazing the underside of her breast through her sweater.
"Mm Jug," she mumbled when his mouth broke away from hers to trace sinfully down her neck, nipping and sucking the sensitive skin as her hips rocked into his own.
Betty could feel his smirk against her skin. Not to be outdone she hitched a leg up around his hip and grinded against the growing hardness beneath his jeans.
Jughead let out a low sound akin to a growl and slipped both his hands into her back pockets squeezing firmly as his mouth once again found hers. They languidly entertained the passionate push and pull of lips as she tugged on his dark locks, displacing the beanie from his head. Without warning Jughead moved his hands out of her pockets and onto her thighs to lift her. Instinctively her legs wrapped around his hips and they let out simultaneous groans as the change of angle aligned their centres more acutely. He could feel the heat of her wanting through her jeans at it made his kisses all the more aggressive.
Their mouths synchronised to the frantic movement of their hips as they devoured one another. Betty felt hot all over as she let herself be consumed by Jughead. It was so unlike her- or rather the her that she had to be at school- to do something so scandalous; like make out furiously with a newly minted Southside Serpent who wasn't even officially her boyfriend in the news room.
The danger only excited her further. A particularly well angled push of his hips forward caused her to break away with a heavy pant and her head fell back against the door with an audible thump.
"Hi," Jughead murmured, warm breath fanning her face while his darkened blue gaze consumed her with heat.
"Hey," she breathed back, willing her racing heart to calm while trying to ignore her desperate need for friction with the way he was still holding her and they were still pressed together.
"So this is what you needed me for?" Betty teased lightly. Her chest contracted at the twinkle in his eyes and the sly smile he offered her.
"You don't seem to be complaining." Jughead punctuated his words by grinding his hips against hers and moving his hand up to cup her breast firmly. Betty whimpered at the feeling, eyes falling shut.
"Definitely not, just wondering what brought on this sudden need." Her mouth was working its way along his jawline now tantalisingly.
"Those jeans," he moaned as he moved his head so that she could have better access to his skin.
Betty's wicked smile against his pulse point quickly turned into a breathy laugh as he quickly gripped her tight and moved so that she was perched on a desk and he was standing between her thighs.
"I have a feeling they'll look much better on the floor though."
"Betty when did you get so good at this? Actually scratch that- when the hell did you even learn how to play?" Archie asked incredulously as he dropped his game controller on the ground next to him.
Betty laughed from her place on the couch her long legs sprawled across Jughead's lap. She shrugged modestly, placing her own controller to the side.
"Juggie taught me."
Said boy looked over at her fondly, one of his arms resting on the back of the couch. Her fingers itched to reach up and lace with his.
Archie glanced over his shoulder at her, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
"When was this?"
Jughead raised a brow at the red-head. "You're not always here you know," he deadpanned.
It was true, Archie and Jughead alternated shifts helping Fred at the construction site and on top of that Archie had football practice and music lessons, leaving an empty house. And often Betty would come over and keep Jughead company while the house was in such a state. She tried to fight off the blush that was rising rapidly to her cheeks at the thought of all the explicit things they did while no one else was home-and sometimes while they were. Though at the mention of it, she realised that for as much time as they spent making out and having sex since that first time, her and Jughead had begun to do a lot of other medial things while hanging out alone too; such as him teaching her to play videogames.
Archie nodded.
"I didn't realise you two were spending so much time together," his tone was not unfriendly or accusatory, but the way his gaze narrowed in on Jughead's hand stroking the smooth skin of her calf did not go unnoticed by either party.
"Yeah well," Betty articulated awkwardly, making a non-committal gesture with her hand before redirecting it to smooth back loose strands of hair falling from her pony tail.
A heavy silence fell over them.
Suddenly a shrill buzzing broke through the air, Jughead's phone on the coffee table vibrating with it.
The dark haired boy sighed before picking it up.
"Yeah?" He answered, voice reserved.
There was mumbling on the other end.
"Okay be right there." He hung up abruptly and then proceeded to gently shift Betty's legs off of his lap, rising from the couch.
"I gotta go."
"What where?" Betty sat upright, worry filling her veins in an icy fashion.
"I just have to go," Jughead threw over his shoulder, his voice a dark warning to not press the issue as he walked toward the front door, only pausing to throw a specific leather jacket over his shoulders. Usually he wouldn't leave it out in the open, but Fred was in Chicago for the weekend finalising some paperwork for the divorce.
Betty frowned, shrinking back at his shortness.
"Jug-" Archie began only to be interrupted.
"Don't wait up." The door slammed shut behind him, leaving a thick tension hanging in the air, dwarfing the previous awkwardness all together.
"Shit," Archie sighed, running a frustrated hand over his face.
Betty fell back against the cushions. She had to admit seeing him in that jacket did things to her; dirty sinful things. But the ache between her legs and the fire in her belly was instantly quelled by the anxiety growing in her chest. She hated when he did that. She hated when he was with them. She understood to a degree that the Serpent's were like the family he didn't have- they were there picking up broken pieces left behind by an imprisoned father and runaway mother- but it didn't mean she liked the idea of him sneaking out into the night to participate in gang related activities.
"I hate it when he does that. I can't relax," she admitted after a minute, turning to look at Archie.
Her long time neighbour nodded solemnly before fixing her with an intuitive gaze.
"He's our friend Arch." Betty prayed her voice was convincing.
"And there's nothing going on between you guys?" He pried.
Betty rolled her eyes, swallowing the lump in her throat lying always caused.
"What else would we be?"
"I don't know but you looked awfully cosy a moment ago and it sounds like you've been spending a lot of time together lately…." Archie continued, cautiously.
"Like I said we're friends."
Friends.
The word echoed in her brain almost tauntingly. They were friends. And really they hadn't spoken about being anything other than that. Sure she didn't fuck her other friends or spend her time thinking about when she could next get them out of their clothes, or how their hands felt gliding over her skin, or whispering naughty things in her ear. But they were friends and neither one of them had extended an olive branch suggesting they wanted to be anything other than that besides the physical aspect of things.
So why did the title suddenly leave an ache in her chest?
Two days later she discovered why.
It was Sunday afternoon. Betty had gone over to the Andrew's after church, telling her parents she was going to Kevin's to work on a history project, and therefore, wouldn't be joining them for brunch. She could only imagine her mother's reaction if she found out she was actually next door lying in bed with Jughead Jones, wearing nothing but his flannel after engaging in some serious sinning and eating some overly sugared cereal straight from the box.
Jughead was propped up against his head board, clad in only a pair of black boxers, legs stretched out and arms folded behind his head, while she sat next crossed legged next to him.
"Shakespeare or Hemingway?" Betty asked, through a mouth full of Lucky charms.
Jughead scrunched up his face at her in mock disgust to which she just opened her mouth wider.
"You're gross," he commented sardonically.
"Says the guy who once ate ten burgers in one sitting. Answer the question."
"Hemingway. Cats or Dogs?"
Betty snorted at which Jughead quirked a questioning eyebrow, reaching into the cereal box himself.
"Deep."
"We're playing 'This or That' Betts, it's not exactly a game of intellect," He retorted, his hand retreating from depositing the food in his mouth and coming to rest on her thigh, fingers idly stroking the skin.
"Both," she finally decided with a grin. "Food or sex?"
Jughead's eyes flashed wickedly, but before she had a chance to become concerned his hands reached out to grab her by the waist, pulling her over his body so that she was straddling his hips. Betty squealed at the action, one hand clutching the box while the other rested on his deliciously bare chest.
"Both," Jughead smirked at her, eyes raking over her playfully. "Actually right now is perfect."
Betty laughed, revelling in this playful side of him so few got to see and rarely even her in the past few months. Shaking her head she placed the box down beside them, bringing her hand up to rest on his shoulder.
"Shut up," she breathed, smile not leaving her face as one of his hands carded through her blonde curls, pushing the wild tresses off her shoulder; his other stroked lazy patters against her hip.
Leaning forward his lips hovered over hers for a moment before they came down in a soft kiss. It was unlike their others. This was… tender. It was lazy and sweet, not passionate and full of lust. Yet it still took her breath away as his lips delicately coaxed hers into an intoxicating push and pull. The hand on her hip trailed down her thigh and then back up, his fingers warming the bare skin where his shirt had ridden up on her in their current position. What took her by surprise though was that his movements didn't radiate with sexual intent like they usually did when they ended up in a position like this. Rather it felt oddly intimate in a completely new way.
And that's when she realised the ache in her chest was asking for more. It was asking for this. This domesticity, this blissful peace. Betty found herself a little off kilter with the realisation.
Breaking apart his forehead rested against hers. A lazy smile on his lips, while her hands pushed his ebony locks away from his forehead.
"Juggie," she whispered, as his eyes fluttered open. They were startlingly blue and her heart skipped a beat.
"Hmm?" he sighed contently, hand still making those treacherous movements on her skin.
"What are we doing?"
He went rigid beneath her hands, his own freezing in place.
"What do you mean?" His voice was soft still but suddenly guarded and Betty swallowed down a lump in her throat.
"I mean this. You and me. What are we doing?" Her green eyes searched his pleadingly. She needed to be grounded, she needed to find somewhere safe to land.
Silence.
She held her breath.
"I don't know Betts," he sighed finally, his jaw tense.
Betty felt her heart sink a little, though she couldn't blame him. She was just as lost. She didn't know what she was hoping for subconsciously, but it was more than that.
"Okay."
"Juggie," Betty answered a suggestive lilt in her voice; after all it was 12am on a Saturday night, what else would he be calling for?
The other end of the line remained silent and her face scrunched in confusion.
A sharp, staggering breath and a wheezing cough made her chest squeeze uncomfortably.
Something was off.
"Jughead?" she tried again, barely managing to keep the panic out of her tone, while she mustered her best authoritative voice.
"Hey Betts," his gravelly voice finally spoke.
The blonde shot up in her bed, the anxiety she was trying to keep at bay rapidly encroaching upon her body. He sounded weak and in pain. His words had come out almost as a groan and she could've sworn she heard a wince, even though she knew he had mostly pulled away from the speaker so that she wouldn't.
"What's going on?" Betty pleaded, doing her best to remain calm and not get caught up in the plethora of horrible situations that were running through her brain that would have ended with him in a state of pain.
"Everything's fine okay." Jughead tried to placate obviously picking up on her growing worry, though the sharp inhale mid-sentence did nothing to quell her fear.
"Bullshit," she spat back at him, her anger ignited by that fear and growing.
Jughead sighed and this time she was sure she heard a wince.
"There may have been a slight motorcycle accident. And I may need you to come and pick me up."
"An accident," Betty repeated as her free hand clenched into a tight fist at the image her brain concocted of his mangled body, black leather scraping across asphalt. Her nails scraped against her skin.
"Yeah… Betty I'm fine but my bikes not exactly rideable otherwise I wouldn't be asking. And I know your parents are probably gonna kill you and I'm sorry I just don't have anyone else to call," He rambled while the sounds of uncomfortable shifting echoed in the background, leaking through the speaker.
Betty's chest ached at the reminder of his hardship, while butterflies swarmed in her stomach at the knowledge he had called her. That even when everyone else was disappearing from his life, he trusted that he had her and that she would show up.
Both emotions were quickly subdued though as he grunted and worry crashed over her again like an ice cold wave.
"Where are you?"
"On the Southside, just over the border," Jughead relayed cautiously, though Betty wasn't shocked by the revelation.
"Okay I'm coming."
Betty spent the entire drive to the Southside clutching the steering wheel in a death grip. She couldn't think clearly, her mind was a mess and her skin felt much too small for her body. Her clothes were suffocating, and her rational mind thanked god for the warm weather, as she could get away with just her sleep shorts and t-shirt without catching her death.
The worry and anxiety was eating her alive. All she could think about was Jughead and how badly bruised he would be when she saw him. She was terrified. And it was that trepidation that made her terrified for a completely new reason. Because this wasn't the kind of fear someone felt for a "just friend". This was the kind of fear that made you literally ill. The kind of paralysing worry that kept you up at night and made you feel like the earth was caving in. And she was feeling it now for Jughead. It terrified her to think about how deep she had fallen into this thing with him. It terrified her to realise how much her own existence had become entwined with his. And they weren't even together.
After what felt like forever but was barely a twenty minute drive at this time of night Betty was crossing the border that separated the North and South sides of Riverdale. She kept her hands steady on the wheel while her eyes darted around nervously, searching for Jughead. After another few minutes, she spotted him down the road just past the highway entrance.
Her breath came out choppy as she took him in slumped against a tree trunk, his mangled bike a few feet away. It was completely wrecked. But from her place in the car, cloaked in darkness bar the headlights she couldn't make out his injuries.
Pulling over she scrambled out of the car, fighting off the bile bubbling up her throat.
"Juggie!" she cried frantically, running over to him.
Jughead looked up, and staggered to his feet biting back a wince. She reached him quickly. They stood inches apart, heavy breathing filling the air between them. There was a rip in the thigh of his jeans, dried blood visible there and on his hands. Yet, despite the site making her cringe with worry, she felt like she could finally breathe again in his presence, her heart hammering against her chest, but not feeling quite so cracked anymore.
Betty's eyes were wild and searched for his. Jughead however, had his head cast down and wouldn't look at her properly.
"Jug," she whispered gently, her hand resting gently on his cheek to pry his head up.
Reluctantly Jughead raised his head to look at her, his eyes devastatingly blue yet distant, jet black hair falling over them, while dried blood caked his forehead. Betty gasped though as she took in his whole face and realised his right eye was bruised and swelling, while a cut decorated his cheek bone just below.
Her hand gripped his cheek more firmly and Jughead let her tilt his head to the side to inspect better. He knew the look on her face was one of pure determination and not to be messed with. Because Betty wasn't just worried now, she wasn't just scared. She was really fucking angry, though he wasn't yet sure if it was with him for lying or not.
Her brows were creased and her bottom lip was pulled between her teeth as her vibrant eyes scrutinised his face.
Meeting his eyes again, some of the fire in her own seemed to diminish. Stroking his cheek tenderly Betty let out a sigh.
"You said it was an accident," she whispered.
"I know," he replied cautiously, placing his large hand on top of her delicate one where it rested against his cheek.
"You lied."
He let out a shaky breath, swallowing his pain.
"Not here," he whispered meaningfully nodding toward where her car was parked.
Betty looked like she wanted to protest but nodded stepping back from him and taking slow steps toward the vehicle. She didn't ask if he was okay, she knew he wasn't but he would say he was.
Jughead's hand reached out suddenly to grab her own, halting her movement. He inhaled sharply as the sudden bend caused the burn in his side to flare obnoxiously. Betty's face contorted with concern as she gripped his hand back tightly.
"Thank you," he said lowly, the sincerity behind the words and the earnest look on his face making her chest contract and her stomach flip.
"Of course," she replied with equal conviction and the air felt thick around them for reasons more than the humid night.
Helping him into the car she quickly rounded on her own side, and turned the ignition.
"Home?" she asked, looking over to where he was sprawled against the passenger seat eyes closed.
"Yeah, but not the one you're thinking."
A short while later they pulled up outside his dad's old trailer. The air was eerie as the engine cut out, the night still, bar a few resounding echoes of parties and drunken yelling in the distance.
Betty unbuckled her seat belt and quickly moved round to the other side of the car to help Jughead. He was already out of his seat and closing the door when she rounded on him. He refused to let her help him inside insisting he was okay, but his limping gate and stuttering breaths propelled her to wrap an arm around his waist anyway.
Digging into a flower pot he produced a spare key and unlocked the door.
She flicked the light switch and helped him to a chair by the small kitchen while the lights buzzed bathing the room in a dim yellow glow.
"First aid kit?" Betty asked tying her hair back out of her face.
"Betty you don't-"Jughead began to protest but the pointed look she shot him made it clear any objection was futile.
"Cupboard above the sink," he sighed nodding toward the kitchen.
Betty turned on her heel, quickly moving to the disclosed location. She didn't let her eyes linger on the small signs that somebody lived here, or rather once did. Technically it was still Jughead's dad's home, but he was in prison and it was uninhabited. It was as if they were in a museum. Left exactly as it had been, untouched, fossilised. It caused a shiver to run down her spine, but she quickly ignored that and the heartache she was feeling all over again at the reminders of a harsh life lived by an undeserving boy.
Rising up on her tip toes she was able to reach the first aid kit. She then grabbed a clean looking dish towel from the bench and ran it under the tap before she returned to Jughead.
Sitting down in the chair next to him Betty began sorting through the contents of the plastic box. Despite feeling somewhere between hellish and dead Jughead couldn't help but smirk a little at the way her brows furrowed in concentration as she pulled out some alcohol swabs, gauze and bandages inspecting each.
"Satisfied Doctor Cooper?"
Betty looked up from her task, a small smile playing on her lips at his teasing. The mirth in his voice and eyes was reassuring but the visual of his injuries quickly sent her back into nurse mode.
Raking her eyes over his form from his cut and bruised face to where he was clearly gripping his side in pain to the open gash across his thigh, Betty tried to weigh up the best course of action.
"Can you take your clothes off?"
Jughead's smirk widened, raising his eyebrows at her. He opened his mouth to make another witty remark but Betty wasn't in the mood for teasing, she was emotionally exhausted and worried, and upset and she didn't have it in her to pretend everything was fine right now; it wasn't.
Jughead must have sensed her intolerance because he quickly shut his mouth and stood carefully. Slowly he removed his leather jacket, his t-shirt following closely behind, before undoing his jeans and leaning his weight on the back of the chair to step out of them.
Betty sucked in a breath. As much as she wasn't in the mood for teasing and their usual flirtatious banter she couldn't help her bodies response to his well-toned one clad only in a pair of boxers. She felt hot, thighs squeezing as she licked her lips unconsciously. If Jughead noticed he didn't comment.
Her focus was quickly returned though as she could now take in the full extent of his harm. The cut on his thigh wasn't as bad as she had originally thought. While there was a fair amount of blood surrounding the damaged skin there didn't seem to be much asphalt stuck in the wound and she didn't think it would take too long to clean. The removal of his shirt revealed some more minor scratches up his arms and on his chest. However it was the large bruise developing on his side that made her stomach churn with nausea. Almost the entire left side of his torso was starting to become stained in a deep purple colour. Just like the black eye and cut on his cheek, she couldn't conceive how that would logically be caused by a bike accident.
Biting back a sob Betty set to work cleaning the wound on his leg, hoping her down cast head wouldn't allow him to see the tears springing to her eyes.
The already stale air of the trailer grew thick as silence cloaked them bar the sounds of Betty fiddling with something every few minutes and Jughead's sharp intakes of breath of small winces as she cleaned out his wound.
By the time she finished patching up the gash on his leg Betty felt like she was going to combust with frustration and curiosity. She had tried not to dwell on the unknown reality of whatever had led them here tonight but she couldn't. She was never good with patience or subtlety.
"So are you going to tell me what the hell happened?" Her voice was horse with disuse.
Jughead's eyes followed her movement as she dragged her chair closer, the noise splitting in the empty air. His eyes found hers as she reached up gently to clean the dried blood from his forehead and cheek. Seeming to lose any resolve he had to keep the information private at the evident distress shining in Betty's orbs, Jughead nodded.
"I was riding home from the bar. A car starts approaching on the other side of the road, nothing out of the ordinary- though I must admit it was a bit odd for a car that nice to be coming from North to South so I should've realised," He kept his eyes straight ahead, his voice even.
Betty's hand stilled, bringing the cloth away from his face as she listened intently. She worried her lip beneath her teeth at the implications. His pause, complimented by side eyeing her, made her quickly gesture for him to continue though as she did the same with her own task.
"So before I know what's happening, this car swerves to my side of the road, I managed to avoid most of the impact but they got the back of my bike. Next thing I know I'm on the ground and the bike spinning out. Then these two guys get out the car, both of them wearing letterman jackets."
She's not even pretending to focus on his injuries now. Her eyes are wide, one hand clenched into a fist on the table top while the other still rests on the side of his face. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly as she feels the rage and panic well inside her.
"Bulldogs?" Betty manages to choke out.
Jughead nods once; curt.
"So they come at me. One starts kicking me in the side, yelling shit while the other just watches, egging him on like he's some kind of fucking hero," his tone is harder now, his eyes darker and she sees the dangerous steel she saw his first day back when he pushed her up against the locker and had a hand wrapped around her throat. The gang member in him coming out, looking to fight back, to protect.
Her hand trails down his neck, over the planes of his chest to where his side is painted in dark colours all on its own. Her fingers trace patters over the smooth skin gently, her breath hitched. His gaze follows the movement, just watching for a moment, a slight frown on his face. But he doesn't ask her to stop.
"Eventually I managed to roll onto my back, and pull his legs out from under him. So now we're both on the ground and I knew he would probably start throwing punches. He does, a good one too, thus, the black eye," Jughead drawls sardonically.
Betty is not deterred though, the rage inside her flickering like a candle as she becomes immersed in his story telling. He's captivating, the far off look in his eye as the events play over in his mind, the way his jaw clenches, the way his skin battered and bruised is illuminated in the dull lighting, the sharp angles of his body. She was enthralled.
"I got some in too, but I mean they fucking hit me with their car, so it wasn't much of an even fight and my body felt like it was on fire so…" he trailed off, his head ducking as if it's suddenly too hard to look at her.
"So?" Betty prompts, she refuses to be left hanging like that.
Jughead sighs, long and deep.
"So I pull the knife out from my jacket. Scared the shit out of him and they take off, not before reversing back into my bike though."
He looks up, black hair falling temptingly over his eyes which are somehow vulnerable and guarded all at once. He's anxious Betty realised. He's anxious as to how she's going to react. He's afraid he's going to scare her.
"I meant it when I said I wasn't scared of you Jug," Betty's voice is quiet but strong as her hand stills against his side.
Jughead doesn't say anything for a moment and the silence stretches been them. Eventually he shakes his head and then looks at her with such a broken expression she wants to cry.
"Maybe you should be." He gets up then, not so carefully removing her hand from his abdomen and begins to pace. His gate is awkward with his slight limp and his hands are tugging at his hair. His face is dark now, the vulnerability she saw a moment ago washed away by an inner demon she doesn't know.
He moved so quickly like her touch was burning him and then she's burning inside. Angry.
"What the hell does that mean? If anything right now I'm scared for you!" she seethes, arms crossing tightly over her chest as she appraises him with narrowed eyes.
"It means I'm toxic, and it's worse now, on the North side I'm like a poison!" Jughead combatted, his flames meeting Betty's own head on as she rose to her feet.
Her voice had risen an octave higher when she speaks again, exasperated.
"It's this town that's toxic Jughead. And I don't care how everyone else treats you. I've never felt more liberated from all of the suffocating bullshit than when I'm with you. So screw them-"
"And what if I'm scared?" Jughead cut her off abruptly, his words imploring her. They were stark. His voice wasn't loud like it had been moments ago, but rather low and almost sinister.
Betty felt her own anger dissipate a little with the shift in dynamic. Her fury dying, as she took a step closer to him, green eyes still homing a hard tint.
"Scared of me? I'm not just going to up and leave when things get hard and dark like your mum did."
Her heart's pounding erratically. Something has shifted, she feels it in her chest building like an ache but sweeter, she feels it in the air, thick and tense. She feels dizzy from the complicated circles they've been spinning in all evening, her emotions short circuiting at the rapid changes being demanded. Their broaching sacred ground here, the unspoken words finally taking verbal shape and it's terrifying and thrilling simultaneously.
"That's exactly why I'm scared. You saw what happened to me tonight Betty. What if you stay and something like that happens to you? I couldn't live with myself."
It's Jughead's turn to step closer now. The earnest tone of his voice makes her lungs malfunction and her heart stutter. She's not used to seeing him this raw. He doesn't look vulnerable though, rather he looks powerful; a force to be reckoned with as he closes in on her personal space, until there's barely a breath between them.
She feels the heat radiating from his body and the hairs on her arms are standing on end. Goose bumps are breaking out across her skin, and his breath on her face is making her dizzy. But the flame inside her is still begging to exacerbate, so she meets his eyes letting their gazes drown one another in an ocean pool of blue and green before speaking.
"Well I don't think I can live without you anymore." It's barely a whisper, and she holds her breath while it sits in the space between them. She doesn't look away though, she won't back down. Her feelings being publicised to him was a ticking time bomb anyway.
Jughead doesn't say anything for a moment-a long moment- and she can see the war raging within him. His eyes give away his inner conflict, and he looks almost pained.
But then his hands are cupping her face and pulling her lips to his and everything else disappears. The anger, the frustration, the confusion, the pain, it all evaporates into the air and now it's just them standing in the middle of an old dimly lit trailer, him practically naked, her clad in pyjamas, kissing in the early hours of the morning.
Jughead's lips are demanding on hers, coaxing them into a passionate rhythm as her arms wrap themselves around his neck, her hands tangling in his hair. This kiss feels different to the previous ones they've shared. It holds the same want, the same passion, the same fire and ache for one another but somehow feels more intense, more important. It dawns on Betty that this is exactly what it is- more. And god did she like more.
As Jughead's tongue slips into her mouth and erotically strokes against her own she pushes herself onto her tip toes and presses her body closer. His hands thread through her hair, pulling the loose ponytail out and angling her head where he wants it, demanding more and getting exactly that. The way the minty taste of her mouth mixes with the sweet one of his [in the back of her mind she recognises it as the coke he was probably drinking earlier] is intoxicating and she whimpers when he nips at her bottom lip.
They break apart when the need for air becomes vital both breathing heavily. His breath stutters more than hers does and Betty's lust induced smile quickly morphs into a frown when she notes the grimace on his features. She moves to back away immediately, afraid she's hurt him but Jughead doesn't let her get far his arms wrapping securely around her waist to keep her body against his.
"Be mine," he whispers into her ear, lips pressing gently to her neck just below.
She sucks in a harsh breath completely unprepared for those words to fall from his mouth. Jughead pulls back slightly, his expression unfaltering but so completely open and honest she feels like her heart might just explode. Betty doesn't hesitate to raise a hand to cup his cheek and press her forehead to his.
"Oh Juggie, I already am."
He kissed her again.