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“You do realize,” Jughead said slowly, “that if that’s supposed to be a birthday gift for Veronica, you’re a day late.” And if you forgot her birthday, you’re dead anyway, so why bother, his tone implied.
He’d come by Archie’s house to drop off a textbook Archie had forgotten, and found his friend (former friend? No, as strained as their friendship had become recently, Archie was still, always, his friend) in the kitchen, carefully stirring a bowl of chocolate and cream that was sitting over a pot of water on the stove.
Archie glanced up as Jughead put the textbook on the kitchen table. “Oh – thanks. And this isn’t for Veronica.”
“Betty, then?” Jughead peered inquisitively into the bowl. It smelt amazing. His mouth was starting to water.
“No,” Archie said, industriously stirring the chocolatey mixture. The tips of his ears were slightly red. Jughead stared at them, curiosity piqued.
“Is this some kind of love letter?” he asked. “A ‘here’s some chocolate, please go out with me’ kind of thing?”
Archie glanced up at him, flushing, then dropped his gaze back to the bowl and determinedly continued stirring.
“It is,” Jughead said in amazement. And he really, really shouldn’t keep prying, not with their friendship in the tenuous state it was currently in, but he couldn’t quite stop himself, spurred on by a perverse mixture of jealousy and morbid curiosity.
“It’s not for Cheryl, is it?” he said doubtfully.
Archie shook his head. He seemed to be concentrating very hard on the stove. His face was steadily getting redder and redder.
“Oh, God.” Jughead hesitated. “Tell me it’s not for Miss Gr– ”
“No!” Archie said vehemently.
There was a strained silence. Archie turned the stove off, added a teaspoon of vanilla to the bowl and started to whisk the mixture vigorously, studiously avoiding looking at Jughead the entire time.
“Look,” he burst out suddenly, “it’s for you, okay? That’s why I freaked and skipped out on you for that Fourth of July road trip. I kept thinking about sitting next to you in the car for hours at a time feeling like this, and I panicked.”
“So,” Jughead said slowly, “you...decided to sleep with Miss Grundy instead of coming on the road trip with me?”
“No!” Archie burst out. “Well, yes, I did, but I didn't mean to!”
“You didn't mean to,” Jughead said dryly. “Did you trip, and fall on her – ”
“Argh!” Archie put the whisk down, collapsed onto a stool at the kitchen counter and banged his forehead on the table. “Look, this isn’t easy for me, okay?”
Jughead’s expression softened fractionally. “I know.” He put one hand on Archie’s shoulder, squeezing comfortingly. “Look, you know I’m just messing with you.”
“It’s just,” Archie looked up at him pitifully and ran a frazzled hand haphazardly through his red hair, making it stand on end. “I’m sorry for skipping out on the road trip and acting like a jerk after that and ruining our friendship. I...well, I was confused. And scared. I’ve never felt this way about a boy before. And you’re my best friend, and I was so afraid of ruining everything. So I tried to run away from it, and I ended up running into Miss Grundy...” He stopped, looking miserable.
“Our friendship isn’t ruined,” Jughead told him severely, fighting back the impulse to smooth Archie's rumpled hair. “Stop being melodramatic.”
“This would be a lot easier if you were a girl,” moaned Archie, then hastily backtracked. “Not – not that I want you to be a girl, or anything. I didn’t mean it like that. I like you as you are. Um. I like you a lot. Oh, God. I’m messing this up, aren’t I?” He buried his face in his hands.
Jughead scowled, rubbing wearily at the bridge of his nose. “Kevin was right. Straight boys are a lot more trouble than they’re worth.”
Archie raised his head to stare at him then, an incredulous look on his face. “You were talking to Kevin about your love life?”
“No,” Jughead said irritably. “Kevin was talking to me about his love life. I don’t know why. It’s not like I would have been any help at all.”
“Oh,” said Archie, then went and got sidetracked. Typical. “Who’s Kevin dating?” he asked curiously.
“Nobody,” said Jughead. “At the moment. Well...no, nevermind.”
“What?” said Archie.
“Nothing,” replied Jughead. “Now, if we could get back to the part where you apparently just made some kind of declaration to me?”
Archie blushed bright red again, and stared down at the tabletop.
“You do know how I feel about you, right?” said Jughead gently.
“How would I?” Archie looked, for a moment, heartbreakingly uncertain. “I know you’re my friend. But you’ve never shown an interest in anyone, much less me...” He looked away.
“I tried to arrange a weekend away with you,” Jughead told him. “Just the two of us. Alone. Over July Fourth, remember that? I spent months planning this trip and then you – ”
“I said I was sorry!” protested Archie, hanging his head. “I really am, you know,” he added pathetically.
“You did mention, yes,” said Jughead. “So...you have feelings for me, I have feelings for you...it’s all good, right?”
Archie beamed brilliantly up at Jughead, then rubbed bashfully at his nose. He was adorable, damn it.
“You’ve got chocolate on your nose,” Jughead told him.
“Oh,” said Archie, then looked speculative. Jughead could practically see the wheels turning under that shock of red hair.
“Care to help me remove it?” Archie said daringly, then, and flicked a coy look at Jughead from beneath his lashes.
Jughead couldn’t resist. Smirking, he took a tissue from the box on the countertop and swiped the chocolate off his friend’s nose, then snickered outright at the look of disbelief on Archie’s face at the utter failure of his attempt at flirtation.
“I guess you’d better show me how it’s done,” he said, and, dipping a finger in the bowl of chocolate, touched it to his own lips, then laughed as Archie eagerly leaned in to kiss the chocolate off his smile.
End.