Work Text:
Archie absolutely loved the library.
He was perhaps the textbook definition of jock; complete with a letter jacket, and dumb handshakes.
And he had a burning desire to fit in, even though he clearly knew that he wasn't meant to. He also had a voice that kept telling him he had to make his family proud and that he had to keep his friends interested. He loved reading because in a way, Archie was a character himself. He had made himself up in order to entertain others. Maybe by the end of his book, he would rise up and actually be who he wanted to be.
Archie loved the smell of books, new or old. New books held a certain magic; they felt like glass, like fragile, treasured things. Not many people had laid their fingers on it yet. It felt like it was sharing a secret that only both of them knew. Old books felt like stepping back in time, flipping through the pages was like walking down the streets of history.
But most of all, he liked the shy black haired boy that always had his nose in a book when he was there. Archie saw him as one big mystery. He was the shadow that escaped as soon as he left outside in the sun.
Archie wondered whether that was all he was; a mystery to solve. Maybe that was what intrigued him the most: the story that he had made up for this boy, especially tailored to Archie's imagination. That's most likely the reason Archie's eyes found themselves sweeping over to him from behind pages and shelves.
He hides; he hides because he's afraid of this boy, too. This boy was a mystery and a whirlwind of confusion all in one time. Archie hadn't gotten to know the stranger beneath the skin to give him some kind of shape. He was just a whirlwind. A whirlwind of uncertainty.
These were the type of people Archie wouldn't dare be seen with. Not people to have feelings for. Why couldn't Archie just hate him? By high school rules, they were mortal enemies. It was the natural way of life and how it was kept in balance.
But every time Archie looked at him, he felt himself start to tilt towards him, sending the balance straight to hell.
Emotions didn't particularly care about high school hierarchies. It gave you feelings for people that you weren't supposed to have feelings for.
Archie stopped in the middle of the sentence he had already read about twenty times when the boy started to laugh at something in his book.
Archie just wanted to finish some chapters.
"Excuse me, I'm trying to read?" Archie said, raising his voice slightly. The boy rolled his eyes to the back of his skull.
"Sorry."
Archie just nodded, returning to his book. The words in front of him were meaningless; he was too busy replaying that laugh over and over again.
Why him, Archie thought next. He was a jock with a stellar football scholarship just waiting to be handed to him. A jock with a family history of sports players married to beautiful women. A jock that is on top of the social ladder with nearly every girl at his feet. Why? Why did this one person hold the power to change all of that?
Why, why, why. That's all he ever asked himself. That's all he could think of when he looked at the stranger's face.
Why. That was the mystery wrapped in pretty packaging.
-
Archie was walking through the endless labyrinthine shelves a week later. He kept seeing flashes of him but Archie was on a mission to ignore him. He's a distraction.
But of course, God or whoever was watching from above, (it felt like below) decided that today was going to be the day they had an actual interaction.
Of course, not in the smooth, graceful way.
No, instead the books in Archie's hands had to go flying and land painfully face down, spines in the air. Archie was swearing profusely in his head, but stopped mid rage due to sputtering apologies.
"Oh, m-man I'm sorry, I'm such a klutz, I never pay attention while I'm here, I get a little lost in the titles and-"
He was crouched on the floor, frantically scooping up Archie's books. His brows were furrowed worriedly and he stared up at Archie, waiting for a response.
Archie didn't say anything at first, because this was the first time he had ever seen the mystery up close.
He was wearing his grey knitted hat over his dark hair. His eyes were wide and expectant. He wore his usual jean jacket and skinny jeans, but today he had black nail polish on his fingers. Archie found that oddly attractive.
"O-oh, no it's okay. I totally get what you mean. Try to look where you're going-?" Archie shook his head to snap out of it.
"Jughead." the boy answered hesitantly. "And yes, my name is actually Jughead."
He was involuntarily flinching away from him when he handed him back his books.
"Try to look where you're going, Jughead." he hoped he didn't sound hostile.
Jughead nodded his head and walked silently to his usual spot at one of the tables.
Archie exhaled as he went back to his browsing. Once he was done, he sat down by one of the recliners next to a lamp with a fat stack of novels set down carefully on the floor beside him.
He started with one of his favorite books. He had checked this one out thousands of times but he could never get enough. From time to time, he could see Oddly Attractive Black Polish Boy- Jughead (he had to get used to actually calling him by his name) staring at him, which frustrated Archie, because that meant he couldn't stare back.
Jughead, Jughead Jughead.
Why, why, why.
Jughead kept staring at him.
He kept looking at him almost expectantly. His leg was shaking nervously.
Archie would never stop saying his name now. He was one step closer to solving the mystery.
As he turned to the next page, a piece of paper fell like a snowflake to the carpet. Jughead felt Archie's eyes on him as he picked it up.
Archie turned it over.
Knew this book was your favorite. You have it on your arm nearly every day. I've caught you staring, so I might as well take the initiative here. - J
345-465-7675
Archie was blushing like the brightest of sunrises, and no amount of hiding under books could make it go away. When he finally had the courage to look up at Jughead, Archie found that he was looking right back, with a-flirtatious?-look, casually standing up to check out his books. The shyness was completely gone.
Before Archie could find the breath to speak, he heard the doors close.
-
Later that night, Archie laid on his bed, pondering, with his fingers right above his phone keys.
Should he?
Jughead's number was written out neatly in the recipient bar of his phone. What would he say?
Hey, yeah, I'm Archie and I've had feelings for you for months I even had a dream about you one time or two haha cool cool
He was quick to erase that.
Hi it's that guy Archie - you bumped into me at the library. um. I think about your lips way too much and I could probably write a novel w/ cheesy metaphors about your eyes alone, as creepy as that is oops
Delete, delete, delete.
Hey, it's Archie-the guy from the library?
and yes, my name is actually Archibald. So you don't have to feel too bad about your name.
He'd rather not spend hours planning out a simple hello, so he sent that. His heart stopped as he watched his phone load the message.
His phone pinged. Time stopped.
Archibald...that's unfortunate. Maybe we can bond over our parents' horrible name choices.
Archie's phone pinged again.
I'm feeling really bold today, so i'm just gonna say it,
Archie's phone alerted him a third time.
would you like to go out for coffee sometime? Go get lost in a bookstore? Check yes or no
Archie laughed and typed out a reply.
Are you asking me out on a date to a bookstore rn?
Ping.
maybe.
Tap tap tap.
[x] yes [] no
For once, Archie didn't seem to care about his stupid reputation; he didn't allow himself to think about what all of this could mean.
They kept talking and joking late into the night; all Archie could think about that adorable beanie. And Jughead's cringey dad jokes.
Archie's love life was a complete teen romance novel cliche; but Archie didn't care about that, either.
Jughead was his favorite cliche.