I Know You Are, But What Am I? | By : CeeCee Category: Comics > Archie & Co. Views: 2886 -:- 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. |
“I’m just not into you.”
His words were blunt. They left no room for guessing.
Archie still fumed during tenth period study hall. His second year algebra homework yawned open from his textbook, nagging him to finish before last bell, but he couldn’t focus.
He knew it. It was inevitable.
It had been one great, big, ugly mistake. Archie was still reeling that it had even happened.
Of course Reg gave him the quick and dirty little brush-off. He was a pro at it. How many girls at Riverdale High had been on the other end of that speech? Archie’s cheeks burned in remembered humiliation.
He’d managed to make eye contact with him after fifth period lunch. He felt like Reg had been avoiding his stare since he’d had his tray rung up and he’d sat down with Jug, Dilt and Chuck.
Archie’s common sense argued with him. Why did he care what Reg thought? When had he ever worried before, above and beyond their usual pissing contests, or not wanting to be on the business end of his one-liners and pranks?
It was a matter of pride, and his confidence in himself. Somehow.
Archie knew where he stood with Betty, for example. She built him up. When they’d finally been intimate, the dynamic between them changed. Despite the way he felt about Ronnie, there was still a connection between him and the sweet blonde that was enduring and special. Veronica was perhaps less giving on her end of what they had, but again, physical intimacy didn’t make her close up on him and ignore him.
Scratch that, Archie remembered; occasionally she did ignore him. He guessed it was part of her appeal.
But she’d never gone out of her way to avoid him after any of their encounters.
That was his point of reference. Archie wasn’t crazy about playing games. You either liked him or you didn’t, straightforward and cut and dried.
He was likable. The assurance ran through his mind all day. Therefore, Reggie was the one who had the problem.
*
It was Arch’s problem.
Reggie squelched guilt as he narrowly missed him again in the hall.
What could he even say? What did Andrews even expect him to say?
He was still shaken.
He couldn’t have done that. Not with a guy.
Not with Archie Andrews. No way.
Why did his body react that way? How many freakin’ times had they shared a locker room in the past, without so much as a downward glance?
Well…maybe Reggie had looked once. Just because it was there.
It unsettled Reggie and made him question what he knew of himself.
“I’m not into guys. And even if I were, I definitely wouldn’t be into Arch, fer cryin’ out loud,” he muttered around a mouthful of toothpaste that morning. He chanted that in his mind all day. Reggie went through his regular motions. Shoot the shit with Chuck, Frankie and Jason. Ignore Moose and stare at Midge’s ass. Flirt with Ron. Flirt with Betty and show her what she couldn’t have. Ace his tests.
…then practice.
Shit.
His stomach twisted in dread mixed with anticipation.
What could he say?
*
“I’m just not into you,” Reggie blurted. His hands were suddenly clammy and he felt uncomfortable. Archie visibly bristled.
“Way to be subtle,” Archie muttered, looking annoyed.
“What? You disappointed, Arch?” Reggie’s sober look was replaced by a sneer.
“Uh-uh.” Archie resumed changing into his practice tee and long shorts. Reggie’s dark eyes followed his movements, despite himself. “Made my day.”
It was a lie. He was disappointed.
The locker room had just emptied; the rest of the team was already on the court, practicing their shooting before Coach Kleats made them line up for drills. Reggie knew in the back of his mind that he should have hurried and been the first one out. But he’d dragged his feet.
He felt Archie’s eyes on him, even when he found him looking away each time he turned around. Cat and mouse. Reggie hated it.
So, he had to be honest. Brutally honest. It had to be nipped in the bud.
While he was being honest, Reggie had to admit he didn’t want to be kept in suspense, either.
“Didn’t want you getting any ideas.”
“Ideas like what? Pfft,” Archie tsked. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“I’m not. Look who’s talking.”
“I’m not the one talking. You said you’re not into me. News flash, Reg, it’s mutual.”
Another lie. Archie didn’t want a running tally. He headed toward the exit.
“Could’ve fooled me,” Reggie muttered under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Never mind,” Reggie snarled.
But he lacked focus for the rest of the practice, earning himself more push-ups and suicides. Archie fell in step slightly behind him. It sucked.
They were civil and avoided too much contact during practice, skirting around each other at huddle. Archie practically raced into the locker room once it was finished while Reggie hung back, bullshitting while everybody took their turn at the water fountain.
Reggie was thankful that he managed to beat Archie out of the parking lot, at least, since the redhead was distracted by Betty coming out of the girls’ ball practice from the other gym. He was laughing at something she said while she flirted with him, and Reggie didn’t regret his decision. He and Arch had nothing in common. And that was that.
*
Archie rode home on the fumes of his gas tank, wondering if he had enough left to get to school tomorrow without filling up yet or begging his pop for cash.
He coasted into his driveway and trudged up the porch steps, grateful to be home. His messy room was his refuge. His feet were screaming to take off his sweaty sneakers.
Archie fished in his pocket for his keys and was confused to find them missing. His mom’s car wasn’t in the driveway. He checked his backpack.
Shit.
“Shit,” he snapped aloud. He jiggled the door handle. Zip.
Archie went around to the back of the house, trying to see if the bathroom window was open. Sometimes, his mom cracked it open to let out the steam and prevent mildew.
Nope. Locked up tight. He banged his fist against the sill and wanted to scream.
Archie contemplated his options. He remembered belatedly that the last time he had his house key, he’d taken if off while he left the keys to his ignition running so he could run back inside and grab his jacket without cutting it off.
His mom had a meeting with her red hat club. She wouldn’t be home for at least an hour. He contemplated whether to call her.
He decided against it and began to walk. He hated his empty tank.
Jughead lived several neighborhoods over from his. Thankfully, the weather wasn’t too nippy, and Archie was still relatively comfortable in his thick Aeropostale hoodie. His legs still burned from practice.
Archie rounded the corner of Jug’s street and exclaimed in disgust. His car was gone; even his parents were out.
“Shitshitshit,” he hissed. Why? Would someone tell him WHY?
He stopped at his stoop and sat, running a hand through his sweaty hair. He contemplated what to do. He could call his mom on her cell, but he didn’t want to interrupt her meeting. Betty was no doubt still at practice or hanging out at Ron’s.
He began the trudge home and made it to the stoplight when he heard an engine brake to a stop behind him.
“Arch,” a familiar baritone called out. He turned and tried to squelch a frown.
It was Reggie, tooling up in his convertible. He had the top up as a provision to the nippy air. His hair was slick from his shower and he’d changed into his street clothes. Even those were expensive.
“Where are you going?”
“Jug’s, except he’s not home.”
“Haven’t seen him, but I barely got home.” Archie had forgotten that Reggie lived a few blocks away. He’d always heckled Arch and his skinny friend in grade school from his yard or hit them with water balloons. There was no love lost, or gained.
“Tough break,” Archie shrugged. It sucked.
“Whatever,” Reggie shrugged back. His engine was still rumbling and Archie’s nose wrinkled from the odor of the exhaust. “So why don’t you go home?”
“Can’t.” He hated admitting his own stupidity out loud. “Locked out.” Reggie’s lips curled. Archie didn’t expect him to be sympathetic.
But every now and again, Archie was wrong.
“Get in. I’ll give you a ride, if you want.” To Archie’s surprise, Reggie unlocked his passenger side without waiting for his answer.
“I don’t even know where to go from here. Mom’s at a meeting, and Pop’s working.”
“So’re mine. But it’s called ‘put your key back where you can find it so your ass doesn’t get locked out,’ Arch.” Archie was indignant as he settled into the plush leather seat and jerked the door shut. “Don’t slam it!”
“Sorry,” he muttered. It was hard not to hug the window in an attempt not to sit too close, but Archie mastered the urge and let his arms relax.
He smelled good.
Archie had heckled him before about his cologne and shower gel to take umbrage, but the scent was more subdued now that they were outside. He stole looks at Reggie’s profile.
Okay. He saw why he was a chick magnet.
“Where is your mom?”
“Library.”
“Book club?”
“Nope. Red hat club.” Reggie shook his head.
“Nerdier than a book club. My mom wants to join one of those.” Archie snorted.
“I don’t know why they don’t just all go out for coffee. You don’t need a club. I don’t even know what they talk about at those.”
“Menopause,” Reggie suggested, smirking.
“Geez…” Archie shuddered, but his chest shook.
Reggie turned his radio back up and they circled the neighborhood, going back around the next parallel street.
“What’s up?”
“Might as well hang out at my place and use my phone. You don’t know when your mom will get out, do you?”
“Guess not.” Archie’s stomach twisted.
Why was Reggie being nice to him? He knew Jug would think he was out of his mind for even going that far, ending up at his mercy in his car.
But all Reg did was brag about the new stereo and whitewalls he bought for it. Nothing worth Archie’s misgivings, so far.
Archie tingled with prickles of awareness of how close Reggie was. It irked him that it affected him so much.
Their talk in the gym made it all make even less sense.
They pulled up to Reggie’s two-story home. They had the best lawn on the block, and like Archie, his parents weren’t home, either.
Reggie keyed his way inside and nodded toward the living room. “Siddown. I’ll grab the phone.” Archie sat uneasily on the couch, which was actually pretty comfortable. The living room was pretty basic. Thomasville sofa set with an Ikea table. Reggie’s mom clearly loved the color blue.
And clearly, she loved her son. Framed photos of him cluttered every surface and wall. Archie stifled a smile at a few showing him as a toddler.
“Nice diaper,” he snickered, nodding to the one on a window ledge.
“Fuck off,” Reggie snorted. “You wanna drink?”
“Soda?” Archie said hopefully.
“Got juice,” he offered.
“Sounds good.” He called “Thanks” after him a beat later as Reggie turned to get the phone.
“No problem.”
It felt weird being in Reggie’s house. He’d never once gone there for anything, not even trick-or-treating when they were kids, or a birthday party or yard sale. It was the house that he and Jug sped by faster on their bikes in the hopes that Reggie wouldn’t catch them and start talking shit.
But it felt…nice. His mom had a Febreeze wall plug-in deodorizer and some scented candles like the ones Archie’s mom ordered from those goofy parties. The house was already warm, telling Archie that the furnace was on. Reggie’s mom hadn’t been gone long.
Reggie brought over two glasses of fruit punch and set them on coasters, which were already stacked neatly on the coffee table. He was well trained.
“Whaddya wanna watch?”
“Sports Center?”
“Hell, yeah.” Reggie tossed him the remote. Archie definitely wasn’t expecting that. Then he remembered the phone before he sat down in the easy chair. He clicked on the set and went automatically to that channel. Archie nodded to him and tossed him back the remote when he came back with the handset. Reggie handed him the phone more carefully.
“Here.” His fingertips brushed his inadvertently.
Heat flared in Archie’s face again. Reggie turned away before he could see it. His pulse still raced.
Damn it…
He knew coming there was a mistake. Archie punched in his mom’s cell.
She had it on call forwarding; he got her voice mail on the first ring.
“Nuts,” he muttered. “Not picking up.”
“Red hat club,” Reggie shrugged, tipping back his juice and draining half of it.
They watched a few minutes of commentary and playbacks.
“Lakers suck,” Reggie muttered. Archie didn’t disagree with him.
“Who’s your team?”
“Knicks.”
“They’re having a good year.” Archie didn’t chime in that it was his team, too.
Archie tried his mom ten minutes later. No joy.
In the meantime, he wasn’t having a bad time. Reggie even had some golden Oreos. He laid the package out on a plate and they helped themselves.
“It’s hot,” Reggie complained. He sat up for a moment and grabbed the hem of his sweatshirt. He peeled it up onehanded over his head, briefly exposing his washboard stomach.
Archie tried not to stare but failed. He was too aware of him, and that gesture evoked the wrong kind of memories. His fingers itched.
Reggie leaned back into the recliner with a deep sigh. Archie figured he was back to watching the game until he said “I didn’t mean it that way.” Archie turned to face him.
Reggie’s face was thoughtful. He drummed his fingers on the armrest. “I meant, I’m not into guys. Not like that. Y’know, not like what we did.”
“Neither am I,” Archie agreed. “Not like that. I mean, c’mon!” He tried to be nonchalant.
“No shit,” Reggie added on a huff. His track record spoke for itself. Reggie was a ladies’ man. “I didn’t mean ‘I’m not into YOU,’ not into you,” he elaborated. “Even though I’m not, anyway.”
“I didn’t wake up in the morning and decide I liked your ass,” Archie pointed out. “I’ll stick to girls.” Relief flooded them both.
“You sure? They might have the wrong idea about you already, Arch!”
“Bullshit!”
“Seemed like you were getting into it.” Reggie’s voice was smug, almost luring him.
“Whatever. It’s over.”
“C’mon. Admit it. You liked my cock.”
“What the hell, dude!” Archie threw up his hands. “Are you really gonna go back to that?”
“You sucked on it like you’ve done it your whole life.” Now Archie was flushed and bothered.
“How would YOU know? God,” he snapped. “It’s cool that you helped me out, man, but I’m gonna bail.” Reggie looked amused.
“Archie liked my cock,” Reggie sing-songed.
“Why, is that what you WANT me to say???”
“There’s nothing wrong with admitting it. You liked going down on my cock.”
“You just said you weren’t in to me, but you want me to stand here and tell you I liked sucking your dick.” Archie was incredulous. His sigh was exasperated. “There’s something wrong with you, dude.”
“But there wasn’t with my cock,” Reggie coaxed.
“Yes, there was! What was wrong with it was that it was a COCK! In my MOUTH! And what’s wrong with YOU is that you act like it’s all ME and like it doesn’t MATTER when you say it didn’t mean shit!” Archie’s jaw was set.
Reggie had seen him mad at him before, but he’d never seen him like this, so animated and frustrated. He was getting more and more worked up. He let the leg rest of the chair fold and Reggie stood up, opening his hands wide.
“Look, I’m sorry. You’re right. It sounded shitty.”
“It’s not just that. You touched ME first. You. ME. You didn’t just let it go.”
“You wouldn’t give me back my towel,” he argued, even though Reggie knew it sounded lame. Uncomfortable tingles tightened his skin.
“You started it!”
“You weren’t exactly putting up a big fight. Don’t act like you hated it. I know you didn’t hate it.” Reggie acted like he wouldn’t be satisfied until Archie acknowledged this.
“Sure. I didn’t ‘hate’ it, Reg. You conceited ass.”
“Sure. I’m conceited.” Reggie huffed as if the idea were ludicrous.
“Don’t get me started.”
“Jealous?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I’m just green all over with wanting what you’ve got. Please. Get over yourself.” Reggie’s scowl was dark.
“You first. You’re just so fucking good all the time, huh? No one’s got a problem with good ol’ Archie Andrews. All the girls think you’re so nice and cute and sweet and they think it’s okay to let you into their pants because you’d NEVER play games with their heads. But in the meantime, you let them dangle and play themselves off against each other because you can’t make up your mind. Maybe I did you a favor.”
“A FAVOR?”
“Hey, why not? Have some cock, and you won’t have to make up your mind about juggling all that pussy.” Reggie knew it sounded ridiculous, but he couldn’t stop his mouth.
“Look who’s talking!”
“Girls know what I’m all about! I don’t pretend to be anything else. What you see is what you get! If I act like I think I’m the shit, it’s because I’m the shit.”
Archie shook his head. “You just don’t care.” He turned toward the door. “You just don’t give a fuck,” he continued to mutter as he reached for the door.
“Don’t care about what?”
“Never mind.”
“Don’t puss out. Just say it, Arch.”
“What do you want me to say?” Archie’s voice was flat as he stood just inside the screen door, poised to leave. “Yeah. I enjoyed it. And it pisses me off that I don’t know how I feel about what happened. Or even how I feel that it happened with you. It’s not even like we hang out together, or anything.”
“You hate me,” Reggie mentioned. His eyes challenged Archie to argue with him.
“It’s not that.”
“Yeah. I think you do. Always have. I don’t care. I could give a fuck.”
It was another lie. Reggie’s posture came across as less defensive and more vulnerable. He leaned against the wall adjacent to the door, looking like a grumpy Abercrombie and Fitch model.
“You almost did give a fuck.”
“We didn’t get that far.”
“Thank God.”
“Sure. Take the last word.”
“Fine,” Archie offered. “So long.”
“Arch,” he grated out.
Why did the sight of Archie’s departing back make him panic?
And why did those blue eyes pin him so accusingly? His face radiated hurt.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen,” Reggie insisted. “It almost didn’t matter that it happened with you. I’m having a hard time with this, Arch.” Reggie’s jaw was set. “I don’t know what to do. I keep thinking about it, and I don’t know what to do about it.”
“Well, neither do I!” Archie fumed, frustrated. He threw his hands up in the air and let them fall back to his thighs with a slap.
Reggie opened his mouth, then shut it.
“The thing is…” Archie hesitated. “I just…part of me says we just forget about it. We don’t ever have to talk about this again. I don’t look at you, you don’t look at me. Everything’ll be fine, Reggie. But the problem is, I can’t get this out of my system.”
“What can’t you get out of your system?”
Archie blurted it out in a rush. His voice cracked. “I’m looking at you standing here, and listening to you, and I’m getting a hard-on so bad I have a headache.”
He felt thoroughly humiliated, but at least the words weren’t clogging up his chest. He spun on his heel and turned to go.
Reggie’s hand shot out and clapped his shoulder, jerking him back. “Where do you think you’re going?” he barked, turning him back around.
“Home,” Archie muttered. Reggie shook his head.
“Bullshit, you’re going home.” Reggie jerked him back over the threshold, back into the warm foyer by the wrist. His fingers felt hot and held Archie in an iron grip.
He was touching him. Archie’s mouth went dry, right before Reggie’s closed in on it.
Archie whimpered. He didn’t care how babyish it sounded. He felt like he was drowning.
Reggie’s lips were hard and hot, and the kiss was aggressive, bringing with it the memory of shower steam and the hard, cold bench beneath him, with Reggie’s mouth on his sensitive flesh. Reggie’s free hand fisted in the neckline of Archie’s hooded sweatshirt and his tongue probed his mouth, bypassing his teeth. Archie opened up more deeply, giving him access.
God, he feels good… Reggie’s voice was a muted groan of relief. Archie’s hands reached for him tentatively as he kicked the door shut behind him. His heart hammered with the realization that yes, this was real. Reggie. It was insane.
…it was right.
Reggie felt and heard Archie’s shuddering breath, drinking it in. His fingers clutched his waist, exploring his textures and contours by touch.
For the first time, Archie didn’t worry about where to put his hands. Reggie’s body was fair game, and from the snug way he cupped Archie’s nape, he didn’t want any restrictions, either.
The body pressing him back into the door was as hard as his, and it excited Archie. His hands tangled in the hem of Reggie’s dark blue tee and found his warm skin, remembering it. Archie stole breath to fortify himself when Reggie let him up for air. His blue eyes were glazed with awe and lust.
“C’mon,” Reggie told him. Archie followed him in a daze down the hall. He tripped twice up the stairs until Reggie slowed, reached back and took his hand. It was unfamiliar but no longer awkward.
He wouldn’t recall much about Reggie’s room above and beyond the lived-in, masculine feel and scent. That, and that his bed was made.
He was all nerves. The bed. That brought everything into sharp, glaring focus. He swallowed nervously.
“Uh, Reg…?”
“Take a load off.” Reggie gestured to the bed as he took the desk for himself. He removed his Skechers and chucked them into the open closet door. “Whatsamatter?”
“Nothing.”
“’Kay. You’re staring.”
“No I’m not.” He was. Reggie’s smile was lopsided, not a look he offered many. “Take it easy.” He rose and closed the gap between them and stood before Archie, forcing him to lean back, craning his neck.
Reggie’s eyes dilated and narrowed. He laid his hand on Archie’s shoulder and squeezed, kneading the muscles there. Archie’s eyes closed in approval. His low groan made Reggie’s body react sharply. His dick cramped inside his briefs, and his jeans felt too snug. He felt Archie’s neck and shoulders relax as his hands kneaded and molded him.
He opened his eyes when Reggie took his hand away.
Reggie stepped back and rolled up the hem of his shirt, peeling it up and over his head. He flicked it in the corner and let Archie give him the once-over.
Without the tee hanging just past his hips, he had a better view of his crotch. Reggie was just as afflicted. Archie’s knees parted slightly to lead him between them, and he bent to meet him, even as Archie skimmed his hand up, along the rough seam of his jeans. He explored the contour of muscles beneath and hooked a finger through his belt loop as Reggie once again claimed his mouth.
The kisses came faster, hotter. Archie roamed over his bare skin; he craved the feel of it. His own sweatshirt bunched and shifted, lifting away from his torso. Reggie broke their contact long enough for the sweater and tee beneath it to be yanked away, exposing his heated skin. Reggie noticed their differences again, his freckles in contrast to his own smoothness.
He craved him bare.
Skin on skin. They had the time and space to share and savor it as Archie leaned back on the heels of his hands, allowing Reg to push him back. They made a slow crawl up toward the headboard, and Archie exhaled a shaky breath when Reggie covered him.
It was a first. Never mind what happened at the school. This was big. This was serious. It was completely unfamiliar, Archie was scared to death, but he couldn’t deny it, or himself. His first kiss, the first time he’d really touched a girl…this floored him just as much. Just as exciting, but it was just…a rush.
Reggie felt Archie’s arms lock around his neck; his embrace was hungry and earnest as they moved against each other. Reggie stifled a moan of contentment as his button was pried open, and the zipped was tugged apart. His fingers bumped his bulging cock. Reggie arched against him with need.
Two crumpled pairs of jeans slid to the foot of the bed and landed on the beige carpet. Occasional murmurs punctuated the faint creak of the bedsprings, and the slide of sweat-slicked flesh against flesh.
Reggie’s hips began to move; the rhythm was jerky and uneven until Archie bucked against him, meeting him with each slow stroke. The sensation of their cocks buffeting each other was heady, silky, tight skin abraded by the friction of coarse hair.
Their bodies told them what to do, revealing in every moment what felt right.
“God, I can’t stand it,” Archie breathed. “So damned good.” His voice was hoarse, almost pained. Reggie’s eyes were glazed with satisfaction.
“Of course it’s good. What’d y’expect, Arch?” Archie choked back a laugh, then groaned. Leave it to Mantle to succeed in anything he tried…even if it was only his first attempt, too.
Reggie reached for him and caught his pulsing flesh in a snug grip. They experimented and shifted, avoiding false starts or overwhelming areas of sensitivity. Reggie’s mouth traveled down his neck and steamed his skin. Archie hissed in pleasure when he lapped briefly at his nipple. His abdomen jumped when he dipped his tongue in the tiny divot of his navel, then traveled the crease of his groin. “Reg,” he cried.
“Don’t thank me. It’s your turn next,” Reggie told him simply before sucking the throbbing head into his mouth. Reggie pulled and lapped at him and Archie’s head arched back into the pillow. His eyes squeezed shut and his mouth dropped open in awe and pleasure. Reggie tasted a hint of saltiness mingled with Archie; he wasn’t fond of it, but he could get used to it, easily. Archie’s natural flavor suited him all right, though, slightly musky but mellow. Archie’s legs convulsed around his ribs to keep him close. Reggie felt powerful, in control of his pleasure. Archie stiffened, then his cock surged up against the roof of Reggie’s mouth. He gagged slightly as Archie burst.
“OHmyGod,” Archie gasped. “Reg!” His body quivered and jerked; every muscle stiffened and his toes curled, it was so good. Reggie leaned up for a moment and retrieved a discarded undershirt from his bedside table, and he used it to wipe Archie and his mouth clean.
“Geez, Arch,” Reggie tsked, amused as he listened to Archie’s ragged breath. “That didn’t take long.”
“Sonofa…bitch,” he grunted as he rolled up onto his elbow. Reggie was sitting up now, leaning back against the headboard with a pillow tucked over his lap. Archie looked bleary and replete. His smile was lazy and his eyes were half-lidded.
“Okay. I take it you enjoyed that.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And I…enjoyed that.” He sounded awed.
“You did? Really?” Disbelief colored his tone.
“I guess. Yeah, I did.”
“This is still weird.” Archie grinned up at him, swatting him lightly in the arm. “Bet my mom’s home by now.” Reggie smirked, then chuckled. The expression took years from his demeanor, making him look like a mischievous little boy. It felt comfortable, teasing and joking with each other, and Archie was drowsy and relaxed.
“You gonna get grounded if you don’t get home on time?”
“Nah.”
“Then come and do something about this!” Reggie nudged the pillow aside. He was rosy red and tumescent. Archie’s blue eyes flitted from it back to Reggie’s face. His smile was surprisingly gentle.
“That’s gotta hurt,” he murmured. Archie stroked the crest of Reggie’s shoulder with his fingertip and leaned over to brush his lips over his nipple. He sensed Reggie’s impatience, but Archie lapped at it in a lazy spiral. This slow teasing was what he enjoyed most about being intimate. The resulting tingles zoomed into Reggie’s belly, straight to his groin. His abdomen jumped and Reggie sucked in a breath.
“C’mon, Arch!” he hissed.
Archie tented him with his body, crawling over him to straddle him. He nudged his jaw with a bump of his nose, gaining access to his neck. Reggie let him have his way, and he groaned at the feel of Archie’s mouth painting his skin with heat. Archie’s spent cock scraped his thigh. He traveled down Reggie’s body, back over one tight, stiff nipple, then slowly to the other.
His fingers wandered into Archie’s thick waves of red hair and he gently pushed his head toward his straining erection. The tip kept jerking up toward Archie’s lips as his breath steamed over it.
“Please,” Reggie whispered. He sounded so plaintive and so unlike himself. “C’mon, Arch…”
Archie spared him one last glance, blue eyes hooded, before he engulfed him in one long, slow, sucking gulp. Reggie bucked. He thrashed back against the headboard, and then he sagged against it for strength. Archie’s head bobbed over him, taking him in and out of his slick mouth.
“Fuck!” His hips jutted up toward the wet, luscious heat, almost throwing Archie off his rhythm. Archie felt the swelling of his flesh in his mouth and tasted something salty and thick. He lapped at it, probing the tiny cleft with the tip of his tongue.
It took only a few quick, darting strokes. Reggie lost it and gushed down his throat. His choked cry mingled with Archie’s grunt of surprise, then his low swallows. Archie reached for the undershirt and showed Reggie the same courtesy, cleaning him off. He felt Archie kiss the tender plane of his inner thigh. It tickled. Reggie sagged with exhaustion. They lay beside one another and stared up at the ceiling.
“Wow,” Reggie muttered. Archie’s fingers bumped his hand. Reggie caught them in his grip and lightly squeezed them. Archie sighed.
“I think that helped,” Reggie went on. “But I don’t know if that makes any more sense.”
“Don’t think that got it out of my system, either.”
“Nope.”
“Glad it’s not just me.” Archie ventured a look at him. Reggie’s face was troubled. “C’mon. Tell me you’re okay with this.” Reggie licked dry lips. Archie squeezed his hand back, then looked at him, really looked at him.
He didn’t shy away when Archie laid his broad palm against his cheek, leaned over and kissed him with languor.
They sprang apart when the front door creaked open and slammed.
“I’m home, sweetie!”
They fumbled into their clothes while Reggie kept up his end of the dialogue through the door at a near-shout, thankful that his mom never climbed the stairs.
The thought didn’t occur to him that he didn’t have to sneak Archie out the back door or explain his presence. He was just helping out a friend.
Archie politely declined the offer of dinner. Reggie drove him home, where he found his mom’s car in the driveway and the door unlocked.
“See ya tomorrow,” Archie said.
“Yeah.” When he reached the porch, he spared him final glance before he drove away.
“You didn’t tell me if you’re okay with this,” Archie muttered.
FIN.
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