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It’s early high school, Jughead and Archie are in Sophomore English. Or well...Archie is, Jughead’s just helping him out. It had started far more seriously, both of them ready to study with piles of paper, and pens with mismatched caps, and the required reading. It’s an older book like 1984 or Fahrenheit 451. Interesting, important concepts, but hard to follow.
They end up cuddled on Archie’s bed. They’re leaning into each other, and Jughead has an arm around Archie- who’s found his head laying in Jug’s lap. He tries to keep his eyes on the pages as Jughead reads aloud. He finds his head drooping down every so often, and finally as he tries picking it back up to gaze on the pages again, Jughead simply pets his hand through his hair. A gentle message telling him that it’s okay. So he let’s his head stay on Jughead. And listens to him talk about an unfortunate world of burning books and censorship.
He finds himself playing with the edges of Jughead’s flannel- careful not to pull on any loose threads. He follows the lines of the shirt, going along with the pace of the reading. He slowly feels himself drifting, and Jughead’s voice fades into the background. Archie falls asleep tucked into Jughead’s side.
He gives a small smile to Archie’s sleeping form, as he puts the book aside. They weren’t too far off from the end, and they could always finish later. Or tomorrow. It wasn’t due till next week. For now, he simply wanted to enjoy the warmth between them and the peaceful quiet of the room. To bask in the soft glow of his beloved, to feel at ease in a town that never felt like home.
But now, with him in his arms- he think he might be.