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Wallflower	By : CeeCee Category: Comics > Archie & Co. Views: 10156 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Archie & Co, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Summary: Sometimes you just wanna smack Archie upside his head…

“Arch…”

“Go with me to the prom, Bets?” A spasm of undiluted delight rippled through her. She nodded, puppetlike, mouth agog. Her eyes shone, and all she could do was sit there, savoring it.

“Yes.” Matter-of-fact. No hesitation. “Oh, yes.” Her voice cracked.

“You’re supposed to sound happy about it.”

“Arch…you have no idea.” She flicked at her eyes before the tears could prick her. Her fingers were prized away from her face gently and curled in Archie’s palm.

“I’m starting to. C’mere.” Please, don’t let him just be playing with me…this could turn out to be such an awesome day if he does what I think- His lips were hot and demanding as he tugged her against him, kissing her hungrily, feeding her own yearning. Her fingers trembled as they crept up to stroke his cheek, treasuring his firm jaw. He felt so good, and so familiar, bringing back memories of those rare instances after their first dance when he seemed like he actually saw her. Wanted her.

The music piped out from the modest speakers in the car. Betty ignored it, as well as the hum of the engine that she’d left running as Archie had his way with her mouth, kissing her leisurely, alternating between hard and soft. Her moans were low but insistent, escaping her as his hands plunged into her hair, tangling in the silky blonde sheaves. He nipped at her, drinking up her taste, before he dragged his mouth hotly over her chin. Her mouth fell open and she emitted a ragged cry.

“Oh, Archie…oh, my gosh…” She didn’t care if she sounded lame. He felt too good, he was exciting her too much to care if she was babbling. She nearly came out of her skin when his lips slid over her pulse; she felt her juices flowing and saturating her panties when he laved the side of her throat with the flat of his tongue.

“Mmmmmmm…” His breath steamed her flesh as he continued to explore her soft skin. “You smell good.”

“I’m filthy, I was in metal shop all day.”

“Uh-uh. You’re wearing a little perfume still. Smells good.”

“Oh.” He nipped her with his teeth, then gently closed them over a sensitive spot and suckled. “Oh, God! Don’t stop, please!”

“I can’t,” he admitted. He fumbled with his seat belt and unbuckled himself, letting it retract into its holster as he lunged for her again, following suit with hers. He flipped up the armrest and closed in on her, triumph written in his eyes as his hands sought her out.

Months. Years. Oh, how long she’d waited to have him here like this, all to herself.

His fingers dug into her flesh through her clothes, groping her firmly and insistently, as if he couldn’t get enough of how she felt. Heat spread through her limbs, and a pleasant tingle rippled through her stomach, warming her like whiskey. Her body was aware of him, awakening at his touch. Her nipples puckered and poked out beneath her bra as he found her ear this time, tracing the shell with the tip of his tongue. He suckled the lobe tenderly between his lips, drawing moaning cries of want from her.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.” The words were out. “I thought you wanted Ronnie.” He paused and pulled back for a moment, staring into her eyes and kissing the tip of her nose.

“I did,” he admitted. “Sometimes, I still do. I won’t lie. It’s just different with you. With you, what you see is what you get. If you say you’re gonna call me, you call. I can hang out with you, Bets.” He kissed her again. “You’re real.” He kissed her again. “And cute.” And again. “Nice.” And again. “And sexy.”

“Liar,” she accused, smothering a laugh and covering his lips with her fingers.

“It’s true. Especially when you make that little noise like you did a minute ago.”

“Which one?” Her voice sounded sultry coming out of her mouth, more than she’d planned. He answered her by cupping her nape in his palm and devouring her lips again. This time, she felt his hand swirl around the globe of her breast, teasing it before he found her nipple. He tugged it, and she nearly came apart, her voice climbing inside the small sedan.

“That’s it,” he confirmed smugly, enjoying his handiwork. He kneaded the smooth, taut mound, tickling her nipple where it practically begged for his touch beneath her tee. “Do that again.” He reached beneath her shirt. Alarms went off in Betty’s head.

They were outside. She was getting close to curfew. She still had to drop off Ronnie’s shoes.

“We can’t do this. Not here.”

“Turn off the car.” He let her shirt drop reluctantly before he turned off her ignition. He dropped her keys into her palm and reached over her to open the driver side door. “C’mon.”

“Where are your parents?”

“It’s their bridge night. They play with Ronnie’s folks.”

“Shit…that’s right. So…”

“That means we have the house to ourselves for another hour,” he concluded. He tugged her inside.

“I’ve gotta be in by curfew,” she explained weakly, watching him fish out his housekey and jam it into the lock. They entered the front den, and Betty scanned the unfamiliar surroundings while Archie went to turn on the light. “It’s nice.”

“You haven’t seen my room yet.” Her gut twisted nervously.

“Arch…”

“Let’s go,” he prodded, grinning back at her as he dragged her along by the hand. She stumbled after him, barely seeing the pictures hanging on the wall in the halls and along the stairs. Up, up, up they went, footsteps creaking on the old wood. Archie’s room was at the end of the hall.

He crossed the room in the dark and flicked on the lamp, bathing the room in a dim glow. Skateboard posters grinned out at her from every wall. It was cluttered and had that weird “sweat sock” smell that she remembered about her brother Chick’s dorm room at college.

A framed picture of Ronnie graced his nightstand. She didn’t have time to ponder it when Archie sat on the bed and tugged her to him, spreading his knees and pulling her between them.

“Get comfy, Bets.” He prized off her jacket, helping her out of it. She chuckled awkwardly, still unable to believe she was here.

“Arch, I don’t just do this…y’know,” she stammered as he patted his lap. She sat obediently there and sized him up as he massaged her back in long strokes, making her shiver.

“I know. We’re not really ‘doing’ anything. Just this.” He gently gripped her chin and tilted it toward him for another searing kiss, picking back up where they left off. Niggling unease coupled with arousal warred within her, and she was lost, sighing into his mouth.

He felt perfect.

His fingers were feathering over her belly, prying her shirt up and sweeping over her skin. She strained against him, giving in to his caress, unsure if she heard him swear under his breath when she accidentally bit his lip in her zeal.

Her shirt dragged her ponytail up, making it drop back to her shoulders in a rippling, static-tossed mass; Archie flung the grubby garment onto the floor and drank in the sight of her, fresh, ripe, with curves that made his sac tighten into a hard knot. He grunted in approval and nibbled the underside of her jaw.

“Can’t believe you were hiding that under that shirt,” he rasped, working her bra strap down the slope of her shoulder. Cool air made her aureole pebble into a puckered little peak. He traced the curve of her breast with his fingertip, spiraling it around and working his way to the straining, aching center…Betty gasped as he rolled it between his finger and thumb before baptizing it in the hot moisture of his mouth.

“Archie…this is crazy,” she rasped, breathless with want. She fidgeted and ground herself in his lap while her fingers wove their way into his thick hair.

“God, I could eat you up,” he groaned around her, suckling her and swirling the tip of his tongue around the rosy bud. Suddenly she felt insistent pressure between her legs; she had barely noticed when Archie had shifted her so she straddled him, splaying her legs open so then dangled over his thighs. His tongue played havoc with her breast, first one, then the other when he freed her from the bra after a hearty jerk of the hooks. She bucked and writhed with pleasure, shoving down the guilt she felt as she listened to his bedroom clock tick, tick, tick.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she reminded him half-heartedly.

“You know you want to,” he urged, and he circled his fingers over her crotch through the worn denim.

“ARCHIE…” She grabbed for his hand to stop him, succeeding only in flattening it against herself to keep him from rubbing her like that.

“Come on, Bets. You want it. I want you. Why not?”

“I have to get home.”

“You drove me here. You don’t live far away,” he reasoned, kissing her chin, then leaning down to gnaw on her neck.

She was torn.

He was with Ronnie earlier today. Wasn’t that him up on the ladder, groping her in front of everybody? Better yet, he said “She hasn’t said yes.” What did that mean, in the long run? For that matter, why was it Ronnie was the one he asked first? Betty ran the events of the day across the table and weighed each one. She came to the gym to help the prom committee, and came alone. Archie didn’t drive himself there, so who did he come over with?

And where was he, whenever there were other dances for him to ask her to? Hadn’t she always helped him with his biology homework? Let him borrow her notes? Typed his papers? Lent him a pencil when he didn’t have one? Made him brownies? Cheered for him on the sidelines whenever he had a game? Listened to him whenever he had a lousy day, even when Ronnie was playing her games and running the streets, talking about things they’d done on their dates and feeding the Riverdale rumor mill?

Betty had been nice. She had been patient and sympathetic. She had been loyal and friendly. She had given him room, given him an ear, given him her affection…her attention. Undivided attention. Archie, in return, had given her lonely nights waiting for him to call. Broken promises. Dates that sometimes materialized, or not. Days wasted on fixing his freaking junk heap of a car…she cringed at money she spent on parts for that car, thinking he appreciated it. Once in a while, she was his girl. The rest of the time, she was just one of the girls. Plural.

So, what was she now? She peered at the clock.

In deep trouble, that’s what.

She felt herself being shifted again, this time downward, off of his lap. She gazed at him questioningly. “What’re you doing, Arch?”

“Just this,” he murmured, and he reached for the button on his jeans, jerking it open. Her eyes grew round with shock. He nudged her down further until she was kneeling in front of him.

“I don’t think…”

“I want you, Betty.”

“I want you too, but not like-“

“Bets…come on. Just for a minute. Look what you’ve done to me!” he chuckled, nodding down into his lap. She eyed the bulge poking out the front of his striped boxer shorts. Beneath the hem of his shirt, she saw a sprinkling of auburn hair running in a happy trail leading below his waistband. “You can’t leave me like this.” He reached down and eased his hand under the elastic and freed himself. Betty was speechless.

His flesh was rosy, darker than his belly. The shaft was thick and turgid, with narrow veins running along the underside. His testicles dangled free, nestled in downy auburn hair. Archie was ready, stiff and standing up at attention, and he nodded at it, urging her to take her time inspecting it. “Come on, Bets,” he whispered.

“I shouldn’t…” Veronica’s words came back to her in a flash. She was drawn to it, her fingers already drifting up to trace the tip of his head, gently probing the smooth indentation at the top. Archie’s jaw clenched at her touch, and she was shocked to see it actually jerk in response to the contact.

“I don’t go downtown, either. Make a guy work for it, not you!”

I’m nicer than she is, Betty considered. Sure, that was it. Nicer. No games. What you see is what you get…she wanted to much to watch his face as she leaned over and kissed the plump head, breathing over it like a caress. It was too difficult to crane her head that way, so she focused on the parts of him that she could reach.

Ragged sounds poured out of Archie as she eased him into her mouth, smooth as silk, warm as a blanket. He leaned back and clutched the covers on the bed, sparing one hand to clutch her hair and rock her head over him, back and forth, encouraging her to use more pressure, more speed. Betty gagged slightly as she picked up momentum, but she continued at it. He’ll like me best, she decided. Ronnie won’t do this for him. She won’t share this with him like I will. She doesn’t care about him like I do. She choked again slightly but mastered it, but a tear dribbled loose from the corner of her eye and drizzled down her cheek.
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Wallflower