I HAVE MOVED.

❝ ME? I’M THE one living in a fantasy world? ❞ he just about choked. ❝ says the guy who thought sleeping with his music teacher was a good idea. says the one who strings along his best friend && the oh so mysterious rich girl because he just CAN’T choose - - - please ❞ this time he let out a real scoff, his lips curling into a disgusted sneer. they had always known they were different, from the time they’d been five, but it had NEVER become more apparent as it had now. ❝ sorry you WASTED so much time on me ❞

“What the hell was that?” Jughead demanded as he descended the bleachers. No one would’ve ever caught him dead trying out for football but the least he could do was show some support for his best friend– albeit distantly and as secluded as possible from the abhorrent display of school spirit and pompoms on the sidelines.

Like most schools, Riverdale held their athletes in the highest regard which innately made them Jughead’s worst enemy by the natural order of things and for the longest time, he figured it wouldn’t be too bad grazing the bottom of the food chain so long as he had his best friend, Archie, at his side.

The particular display of athletic prowess he’d just witnessed, however, was telling him that things were going to start changing real soon.

“I thought you had asthma. When did you start running like that?”

Things had definitely changed, and Archie had no idea how far he could push his new body - but he was willing to try it out. Trying out for football probably hadn’t been the great first test, especially with some of the sniggers he had received when he’d turned up. Archie had always wanted to play, and his health problems had almost made it completely impossible. 

Tryouts went better than he could have ever expected, smirking back at the looks of pure shock from the other team members, running over to Jughead with a huge grin before his smile began to slip. Of course Jughead would be inquistive. What was he supposed to say? There was no way his best friend would believe him if he told the truth. 

    ❝𝓑oyfriend, Blaine. It’s 2018, you can say that word to a guy. Unlike faggy, which hasn’t even been a decent insult since like, the 1950′s.❞ Blair sighed; sometimes it felt like Blaine was only bothered by everything he was at his core. ❝None of your damn business. Leave. Get out.❞ Blair kicked out as Blaine stepped closer, hitting him in the shin. He wasn’t sure what happened next, only that they ended up trading blows, with Blair’s mind blanking most of it out. All he knew was that he snapped back into alertness only when he saw blood everywhere they’d tussled, and twitched - he was going to have to clean that up. ❝You need to get out of my room.❞ he croaked, choked up with the need to cry. ❝And if you tell dad, I promise it’ll be a murder-suicide when I go.❞

“Shit!” Jughead gasped, hands flying up to tangle into Archie’s hair, too tight and only when his boyfriend’s lips brushed the spot was he able to relax it again. He tried to relax fully, but it was difficult when his toes had curled into the blanket on the sofa beneath them and pleasure-pain had zipped down his spine. “That… Is not fair, Arch. I’m still not changing the channel.”

Leaning back on his palms, Jughead tipped his head curiously, eyes half-closed and a sly smirk of a smile ghosting over his lips. It would be an interesting photo if Betty chose to take it. “Too many to choose from.” He hummed, “Things are mostly dark or secret, not both.” He lazily yet precisely let his lips and tongue form the word, “Specificity…” Then he grinned, sharp and almost feral, just for a split second, “Is appreciated.”