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Veronica is tracing the lines of Archie’s back. The morning lights them up beautifully, skin glowing at day’s break. Archie grunts, a question. Veronica lays a flat hand on his back, easing him.
“Ronnie,” he says, voice rough.
“Morning Archie,” she says. She’s already smiling as he turns over.
“You’re not mad, right?” he asks. “About last night?”
Last night. Ronnie had foolishly and heatedly asked about a fantasy that Archie had, and instead of the two of them, no, Archie brought in a figurative Jughead. The moment broke, she pulled back, startled. “What?” she asked sharply.
Archie looked shamed. “You know I like him,” he said, not meeting her eyes, and blushing.
“I know,” she said, and brought him in, kissed him gently.
“I’m not mad,” she says. She’s not. “I just, I feel,” and she watches as he props himself on an elbow, reaching for her hand. “I’m not enough for you.”
“Ronnie,” Archie says, soft. “That’s not it, I just,” he shrugs. “I love you. I just love Jughead too. Is it possible to love two people at once?” he asks, genuine and scared.
Veronica nods. “It is. I guess,” she sighs, waving a hand around. “I don’t get it. Jughead?” she asks, squinting. Like maybe Archie mistakenly said Jughead, and not someone sensible, like Betty.
Senior year, four years of hanging with Betty, Archie, and Veronica still couldn’t really get behind the Jughead thing.
“He’s so smart,” Archie sighs, dreamily, and Veronica wonders if this is how he sounded when he was mooning about her in the beginning. “And handsome. Like, that mouth?” He gestures in the air, to emphasize something beyond Veronica’s comprehension.
“And funny. And he listens to me. V, you guys have so much in common,” he says. “Like, maybe I have a type?”
Veronica rolls her eyes. “Archie, no offense but Jughead and I have nothing in common. Aside from you.”
“So you’re not mad?” he asks again.
She shakes her head. “Heart wants what it wants.” She smiles, thinking. “So how are you going to seduce him?”
Archie chokes on air, coughing, turning even more ginger. “Veronica!” he gasps, turning back over and grabbing his water bottle from the night stand. He sits up and swallows down half of it then looks at her, eyes wide. “You’re joking, right?”
She shrugs. “I’m not saying we need to spice things up, I’m just saying this is something you want, so why not?”
“Like,” Archie says, staring off in the distance, “all of us? Together?”
Veronica scrunches her face, and Archie laughs, leaning in to kiss her nose. “No, I mean, you and Jughead, and you and me. Not,” she loses all of her hard earned vocabulary, and links her hands together, fingers up. “Like this,” she says.
“What?” Archie asks. “You mean you won’t?”
“No, I absolutely draw the line at being with Jughead.” Curly hair, sharp nose, and biting, caustic words? Turn off.
Archie’s mouth slants to the side. “I’m not sure how to seduce someone,” he says. “I mean, we just… happened.”
Veronica wants to face palm. “Archie, I totally made the moves on you.”
“Right, and you won’t do that now?”
“Are you asking me if I’ll seduce Jughead for you?” she shrieks.
“No?” Archie draws out, squinting. He totally was.
“God. Okay,” She sits up, pulling the covers around her chest. “Like, just talk to him. I was charmed.”
“Yeah, but you just met me,” Archie says, getting up, picking up her dress and putting it on the bed. “Jughead knows me. Like, how do you make a move on someone like that?”
“Archie, you’re captivating, and handsome, and a total sweetheart. Just…” she shrugs, getting up to slip her dress on. “Talk to him,” she repeats, tugging and adjusting herself into the dress. “Zip me up?” she asks, turning and lifting her hair.
“Always,” Archie says, and zips her up before pressing a kiss to her nape. “Man you always smell so good.”
“It’s perfume,” Veronica says, searching for her heels.
“No,” Archie says, grabbing onto her arm gently. “It’s you.” He leans down and kisses her gently, always so gently, a hint of heat, and it always warms her up.
The first day of school was, thank God, uneventful. Veronica looked top notch in black and white, a yellow plaid clutch as a call back to Clueless. Which, not to say her boyfriend was totally clueless, but he’d made no progress with Jughead.
And she was not going to let this opportunity pass by Archie, not when this was their last year. Of course she still wasn’t going to seduce Jughead, the very idea heated her stomach, made it churn. But she could help Archie.
So when school gets out, she walks up with all the confidence of a Lodge to Jughead Jones. “Pop’s?” she asks, arching an eyebrow and smiling. Her lipstick was perfect, her hair sleek, and she would not be intimidated by him. Sure, her Calculus book was thicker than it had any right to be, and the weight it and of Shakespeare was straining her arms, but no one could tell.
Jughead hung his head back like it was the worst thing to actually talk to her. “Why?” he asks, shutting his locker and crossing his arms.
“Why so closed off, Jughead?” she asks sweetly. “Just an invitation.”
“Because it’s coming from you,” he says, wide mouth turning up at the corner wryly. Like he could do anything other than be wry.
“Archie will be there,” she says, her carrot.
Jughead scrunches his nose. “What does that have to do with anything?” He leans against the lockers and cocks his head, like a particularly tall budgie.
“I didn’t think subtlety was beyond your comprehension,” she replies, shifting her books, flipping her hair.
Jughead’s eyes narrow. “Precisely what are you trying to pull? This is isn’t a surprise party, right?”
Veronica holds in exasperation. “I’m simply inviting you to an after school gathering.”
“Yeah, that’s what worries me,” Jughead says. He’s silent for another minute, considering her.
Veronica feels distinctly uncomfortable. Like she should squirm, but she absolutely refuses to let Jughead Jones the Third get the better of her.
“Okay,” Jughead sighs, standing up, and that ten inch difference between them catches Veronica off guard. She forgets that Jughead is as tall as Archie, maybe even taller from how much he slouches. “What the hell, I’ll figure what’s going on, at least,” he says.
“Good,” she says primly, “Archie can drive us.”
Jughead grimaces. “In his hunk of junk he calls a truck?” he asks.
“It’s sentimental now,” Veronica tries to explain, and she shifts her books in her arms, and they have the absolute gall to shift and start falling.
Jughead snatches Hamlet out of the air, lightning quick. He pulls her Calc from her arms, casually. “Here,” he says, holding onto them. “Now your tiny muscles won’t bulge out your silk shirt.”
Veronica gapes, half for show, half for real. “My biceps are perfect, and I won’t have you dismiss me with society’s plot of body dysmorphia. This is not an eighties movie.”
Jughead rolls his eyes so hard the earth tilts. “I just meant the books are heavy,” he says. “Sorry if I hit a sore spot, I know girls have problems with the media,” he says flapping a hand, sounding almost sincere.
“You mean to tell me you don’t fall to the prescribed ideals of the female form?”
Jughead scrunches his nose. “I like who I like,” he says, shrugging. “It doesn’t matter what they look like.”
Before Veronica can gasp at the idea that Jughead is panromantic, they reach the end of the hallway to the school exit. Jughead leans on the handle and it opens, the door notoriously heavy and difficult to work with. He holds it for her.
Veronica blinks, and feels weird for a microsecond, but adjusts quickly and walks past him.
Archie is in the truck at the curb, looking at his phone.
“See?” Veronica says, “Archie’s here.”
“I’m still not sure there’s not some nefarious plot,” Jughead says, walking around and again, opening the door. “Pop’s?” he asks Archie casually.
Archie nods. He holds out a hand for Veronica to hold so she can climb in. Unfortunately, her skirt is too tight, and she curses her sense of style. In order to get a leg up, she’d have to either hike it up and give Jughead the full monty, or rip it. She blushes, and shakes her head tightly. Archie frowns, and then remembers this morning where they had the same issue. He sighs, but is opening his door, the chassis rocking.
“For fuck’s sakes, Veronica,” Jughead says, and says “I got her, Arch,” and puts her books on the seat before he lifts her up so her feet reach the floorboard of the truck, his hands on her waist. Now she feels her ears burning. She ducks her head, and scoots in, realizing she’s going to have to sit with her knees clamped and pressed against Jughead, so she’s not in Archie’s way.
“Thanks,” Archie says, and shuts the door before leaning over to peck her cheek.
Veronica turns in to kiss Archie on the lips, to hide her embarrassment. Archie smiles, and Veronica remembers that she likes Archie. Jughead moves her books to the dash and climbs in and shut the door.
“Don’t manspread,” Veronica warns, and crosses her arms.
Jughead huffs. “That was impossible to do even without you in the middle,” he says.
“No making fun of the truck while in the truck,” Archie says, pumping the clutch before cranking it.
The ride to Pop’s is relatively quiet, and Veronica feels like she needs to fill the silence. “Did you see the Bachelorette premiere?” she asks Jughead. Trying to get her mind off the fact that Jughead’s thigh is pressed against her’s, warm, despite him scrunching against the door.
Jughead lifts his head from his hand and sends her a withering glare. “Are you serious?” he asks.
“I’m sorry, I forgot small talk is beyond your capabilities,” Veronica says. She doesn’t sneer; she’s a lady.
“And it’s all you’re proficient at,” Jughead snarks back.
It feels better, they’re back on their even footing. This isn’t book-carrying, door-opening, and body-lifting Jughead. This is Jughead she hates. Hate is a touch too sharp. Jughead she doesn’t understand.
“It’s something I’ve refined, because I attend social soirees,” she says.
Archie darts looks at them, like they’re both incendiary devices he’s accidentally picked up. “We’re here,” he says, relieved. He smiles at the both of them, and gets out of the truck.
Jughead gets out, and the truck cab cools down ten degrees thanks to the lack of body heat.
Archie walks around and helps her out of the truck. “Thanks, V,” he says, low, darting a look at Jughead who’s already in Pop’s.
“For you, Archie, anything,” she says, and stands up on her toes for a kiss. “Now, go talk to him,” she says, pushing him away.
Veronica snatches Hamlet and walks in, her standing excuse that she has homework, and sits in the booth behind Jughead.
He turns, an arm stretched out on the back of the booth. “What are you doing?” he asks, almost smirking.
She raises her book. “Literature.”
He hums. “Something is rotten in the state of Denmark,” he drawls, and Veronica smiles, unbidden.
“To be honest,” she quotes back, “as this world goes, is to be one man picked out of ten thousand.”
Jughead smiles back, and then turns his head to notice Archie standing between their booths, smiling at them. “What’s with you?” he asks, laughing.
“I uh,” he says, jamming his hands in his letterman jacket, darting a glance at Veronica. She looks at him pointedly. She will absolutely not ask Jughead out for him. “Jughead can I talk to you?” he asks so quickly, it’s nearly one word. He rubs the back of his neck, growing red. “Outside?” he amends, as Betty walks in. “Hey Betts,” he says.
“Hey Archie,” she smiles, and slides into the seat opposite Veronica. “Hey guys,” she addresses them, then, because Betty is wickedly smart, snaps her head to look at Veronica. “What’s going on?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” Jughead surmises, raising his eyebrows and slipping out of his booth to follow Archie outside.
Betty waits until the door shuts and she’s on Veronica like a sumo wrestler. “Spill it,” she says.
Veronica raises her book and ignores her before Hamlet is rudely pulled out of her fingers. “Hey!” she says.
Betty levels her with a look, and Veronica melts. “Archie is asking Jughead out,” she says. She looks out the window quickly, Archie slouching and looking at the ground, toeing the dirt with his shoe. Jughead is listening, a dent between his brows.
“Finally,” Betty says, deflating. “Took you two forever,” she says as the waitress, Liz, walks up.
“Strawberry milkshake, please,” Betty says, and then looks at Veronica expectantly. “Ronnie?” she asks.
Veronica realizes her mouth is gaping open. “Chocolate for me,” she says, jolting back to reality. When Liz leaves, she leans forward. “Jughead and I are not dating,” she whispers furiously.
Betty frowns, one eyebrow going down. “Really?” She pulls out her copy of Hamlet. “I thought that you…” she stops. “Okay.”
“Okay?!” Veronica repeats. “I’m not into Jughead.”
Betty looks at her flatly, unamused. “V. Please. It’s me.”
“You were, not me,” Veronica says, flapping her hands, continuing.
“Yeah, and we broke up,” Betty says. She rolls her eyes. “Look,” she says, then looks out the window. “Oh my God,” she grabs onto Veronica’s arm.
Veronica turns her head, sees out the window that Archie has turned fully red, and Jughead is laughing and attempting to pull Archie’s hands from his face. She watches as Archie twists away, and Jughead stops him, saying something before blushing himself. He looks...endearing.
Archie lifts his head up, and Jughead steps into his space, grabbing Archie’s hands.
Archie smiles, says something.
Jughead nods, and smiles back. Then, looks at the window, and frowns at them.
Betty waves, and Veronica bares her teeth in what she thinks is a smile.
Strawberry and chocolate,” Liz says, setting down their milkshakes and then following the path of their eyes. “Oh thank God,” she says. Then she winks at Veronica. “Should of swirled it, huh?” she teases, and Betty laughs, snorting.
“It’s not funny,” Veronica insists, eyes wide, “Jughead and Archie are dating, and Archie and I are dating, but Jughead and I are not dating.”
Betty and Liz exchange dubious looks, and Liz grins before twirling her finger. “Swirl it,” she says, setting Betty off again.
Of course, Veronica knew that eventually, she and Jughead had to talk. About how the relationship was going to work.
He was over more often, at Archie’s house but not hers, and Veronica wanted to nip the conversation in the bud. So she arrives at Archie’s house and knocks. And knocks. Archie answers, muffled cursing, and obviously tugging his shirt down from his armpits. He looks flushed, lips kiss-bitten, eyes heavy lidded.
Veronica’s seen it before, because she was the one to make him like that. But now there’s Jughead, and now Jughead gets to experience Archie too.
Veronica tries to deal with the mix of feelings flooding through her as Archie lets her through after a perfunctory kiss. It’s only human to feel jealous, to feel possessive and angry and bereft. But Veronica is not simply human. She sets her shoulders back, reminds herself that Archie is well loved now, and not just by her.
Obviously.
“Netflix?” she asks, and Archie smiles, nodding.
“Yeah, there’s a new true crime documentary,” Archie says. Then looks at her, questioningly.
“Sounds good,” she says, setting her purse on the coffee table. Recognizing she’s horning in on Jughead and Archie time. But Archie is hers, too.
She walks into the kitchen, where Jughead is, naturally, rummaging in the fridge. In a tank top.
“Jughead,” she says primly, announcing herself.
Jughead looks up. “Hey Veronica, you want anything to drink?”
Veronica, for a moment, drinks in Jughead.
His lips are rouge-like, the color like MAC shade Velvet Teddy. His hat is gone, probably in the couch cushions, his hair wild and curled. He’s flushed, not vampire who hasn’t drank in eons pale, and there’s a bruise blooming at the base of his neck. From Archie.
Veronica imagines it for a brief moment: Jughead in Archie’s lap, clutching and laughing, returning the favor.
Jughead raises an eyebrow, and Veronica wonders how long she’s been staring at him.
“I’ll take a root beer,” she says, attempting solidarity, trying to not think about Jughead in a sexual manner, oh my God. She blushes, regardless.
He pulls out the bottles from the fridge, setting two of them down, and the third twisting the cap off before handing it to her.
“Cheers,” she says.
He raises his own bottle, twisting off the cap and taking a drink.
“We need to negotiate,” she says.
He shrugs, like he knew this was coming. “Okay. Let me bring Archie his drink, let him know we might be a minute.”
Veronica nods as Jughead moves past her, low murmurs in the living room as she nervously sips her pop.
The canned laughter of a sitcom comes on the television and Jughead slips back in, hat back on, if skewed. “So,” he says, pulling himself to sit on the counter. “What’s the offer?”
“Obviously we can’t both have Archie all the time. I was,” she swallows, “hoping to ease into this.”
Jughead blushes, rubs at his mouth. “Yeah, we got...excited,” he lands on.
“That’s fine,” she says. “To be expected, even, what with how long he’s been pining after you.” She crosses her arms, starting to feel secure again.
Jughead groans, putting his face in his hands. “Have some compassion, Ronnie,” he says.
She tilts her head and purses her lips considering him. “What if we split Archie’s time evenly?”
“That’s not fair, to anyone,” he counters. “Also, a little demeaning to Arch.”
She sighs, throwing up her arms. “I don’t know!” she says. “I mean, do you want a repeat of today?” she asks, gesturing to Jughead, still infuriatingly in a tank top.
Jughead considers this. “Okay,” he says, “What about a two hour notice?”
Veronica nods.
“But,” he says, grimacing, “and I hate that I’m bringing this up, but I think it would behoove us to actually hang out together.”
“The both of us?” Veronica asks, eyes wide.
“With Archie. I think he’s,” he holds a hand palm down and waggles it back and forth. “Insecure about the setup.”
“Nothing has to change,” Veronica insists. “We weren’t really friends before, do we really —” and then realizes, if it was anyone other than Archie Andrews, that would work. She rolls her eyes. “That boy.”
Jughead points the neck of his bottle at her, winking. “Yep.”
They stew in the silence after that revelation. Then, Veronica takes a steadying breath. “Okay, so how do we,” she says, and doesn’t finish the sentence.
“We build on our commonalities,” Jughead says, holding two fingers. “Friends, and school.”
“Study buddies?” she asks, wrinkling her nose.
“Study buddies,” Jughead repeats with finality.
The first study session happens the following Thursday, the entire week Archie being pulled between the two of them. Archie has been walking around, in an almost dreamlike state.
When Reggie found out, he opened his mouth to grumble that Archie got all the play, and that Veronica was being a sl — something she never had to hear because Jughead was there to cut him off with sharp words and insinuating violence. “Wouldn’t want another act of violence going on your record, Reg, didn’t you just barely get into State?” he said, and Veronica stood up and pointed a perfectly manicured finger at Reggie.
“Consider yourself banned from every girl, and boy in this school, Reggie.” She wields power, and is not afraid of using it. A Lodge doesn’t flinch.
She focuses back on Hamlet, the words sharp on the pages.
A darting glance to her left reveals Archie face down on the couch. “I thought we were gonna hang out,” he moans, sending she and Jughead betrayed puppy looks.
“We are,” Jughead says, “we’re just studying right now. Netflix later.”
“It doesn’t make sense, and there’s no good movie adaptations.”
“The Lion King,” Jughead says.
“What?” Archie asks, looking interested. “Really?”
Veronica nods. “Same themes of death, revenge, and family,” she says. “But not on the morality of sex and women, thank God.”
“We should just watch The Lion King, then,” Archie says after a pause.
“We can,” Veronica says. “After we study.”
Archie groans again, and covers his face with the book.
“Though this be madness, yet there is method in't,” Jughead says.
“What does that even mean?” Archie cries.
Jughead laughs. “Okay I got you something,” he says, pulling something out of his messenger bag. He tosses it, and it hits Archie’s stomach. Archie picks it up.
“It translates Hamlet into modern day speech,” he says, setting his book down.
“Oh thank God,” Archie says getting up. He walks around the coffee table to sit next to Jughead and draws him into a kiss.
Veronica wishes Hamlet was more interesting, or that she could be unaffected, but when Jughead closes his eyes and tilts his head, she wonders if he feels the same way she does when Archie kisses her. The warmth of his breath on their cheeks, the large square hand cradling their heads, gentle and sincere, kissing their lips.
She clears her throat.
Archie looks up, and smiles at her. Jughead’s pale cheeks are flushed, and Veronica doesn’t know if it’s from Archie or from her, and Veronica wishes she wasn’t so turned on.
It all comes to a head after Jughead’s birthday party two weeks later. Which he desperately didn’t want, but Veronica was in charge, here. She concedes in only having themselves, Archie, Betty, Josie, and Kevin over.
It’s intimate, and there’s no games, and Jughead begs off two hours into it after the cake.
“Only because it’s your birthday,” Veronica says, and Jughead rolls his eyes and darts up the stairs to Archie’s bedroom.
Archie looks after him, but Veronica lays a gentling hand on his arm.
They turn on Netflix and after arguing, Josie snags the remote from Kevin and selects a Bollywood film.
“Subtitles?” Archie asks, whining, but the choice was already made.
Betty smiles, and pecks Josie’s cheek, obviously proud of her girlfriend.
Josie just smirks and snuggles back into Betty.
Veronica, not for the first time, thinks that they are a terrifying power couple. She lays her head on Archie’s shoulder, and feels like something is missing.
Archie kisses the top of her head, but keeps looking back at the stairs like Jughead will magically appear. “I’m worried,” he whispers, and she nods.
“I’ll go check on him,” Veronica says, and slips off the couch to head up the stairs.
Jughead is laying in bed, reading.
Veronica gently knocks on the door. “Hey, you alright?” she asks, and Jughead blinks at her.
He sits up, putting the copy of Hamlet down.
“Are you seriously studying on your birthday?” she asks, laughing.
She gingerly steps over Archie’s dirty clothes, and sits on the edge. “You are okay, though?”
Jughead shrugs, “Birthdays aren’t my favorite, in case you haven’t figured it out. Why is this day special?”
“It’s about you, not the day,” Veronica says, tugging at the hem of her skirt.
“Yeah well,” he says, rubbing his face, “I’m not much to celebrate, either.”
Veronica frowns. “That’s not true,” she says, feeling out of place. Maybe Archie should have come up here. Hell, even Josie could do this better than she could.
Jughead looks at her, a level and unbelieving stare. “Come on, Veronica it’s us.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You can’t stand me.”
“We can’t stand each other, Jughead, it’s our brand now.”
Jughead huffs a laugh. “This thing with Archie, it’s —” he sighs, “amazing, but I just feel like there’s still something, missing?” He ducks his head. “Half there,” he says, quietly.
“Like, halfway loved?”
Jughead nods, frowning, the dent between his eyebrows there again.
She lays a hand on the book between them. “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so,” she quotes.
Jughead looks at her hand, lays his next to hers, and smiles wryly. “I must be cruel only to be kind,” he says.
“Words, words, words.” She flushes, teasing.
“The lady doth protest too much,” he banters back.
She bites her lip, takes in a shaky breath, her whole body overwarm from the possibility. “Doubt thou the stars are fire,” she starts, and Jughead’s head jolts up, eyes wide. “Doubt that the sun doth move; doubt truth to be a liar; but never doubt I love.”
He leans in, his intentions clear, and gently presses his lips to hers, linking their fingers on the battered book, and Veronica tries to breathe evenly even while her heart is pounding.
Jughead lifts a hand to her face, and just like that, Veronica is scooting closer, the swish of her pantyhose against her skirt sounds loud amongst their kissing, and she straddles Jughead.
He grips onto her waist, and she hums, pressing her chest against his, making him hold even tighter.
The thump at the door startles them both, breaking apart like nothing happened. Veronica looks, and there’s Archie, eyes wide.
“Archie,” she starts, and Jughead stands, hands out in supplication to ease Archie into this new knowledge, and Archie smiles.
Veronica blinks, and looks at Jughead, who seems as confused as Veronica.
“Can I come in?” Archie asks, about his own room, and shuts the door. “How long?” he asks, looking at them, still smiling.
“Just now,” Jughead says, voice rough and low, and another rush of heat soars through Veronica unwittingly.
“Can I?” Archie stops, blushing. “I wanted to watch, but I wanted you to know?”
“You,” Veronica says, slowly, “You want us to make out?” she asks, pointing between Jughead and herself.
Archie nods, eyes wide. “It’s really cool,” he says.
Jughead laughs. “Cool,” he repeats, and he reaches out to Archie’s hand. “Why don’t you join us?” he asks.
Veronica walks forward, pressing herself to Archie’s side.
“Yeah?” Archie asks, and she nods.
Jughead presses a kiss to Archie’s cheek, and then ducks down to kiss Veronica again.
“Yeah,” she says when he pulls away, and she’s never felt more sure.