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“I'm just not sure this is completely necessary,” Jughead says, but he's averting his eyes and blushing, long thin hands fiddling with the bottom of his t-shirt, so Sweet Pea knows he's already folded.
They've been dating for a while, and done some stuff, but they haven't gone all the way yet.
Not for lack of trying on Sweet Pea's part though; but when he first tried putting his hand back down Jughead's checkered boxers, Jughead had startled so badly that he fell off the couch.
Once he'd stopped laughing, Sweet Pea's reaction was anger (that being his default reaction to most injustices), assuming Jughead still thought himself too high and mighty for the likes of Sweet Pea, just like when he initially rejected his offer of friendship.
“Thanks for ruining the moment, asshole,” Jughead had muttered, getting to his feet in an angry huff and punching Sweet Pea in the shoulder for emphasis.
“I wasn't the one who's so disgusted by the idea of us fucking that I fell off the couch!” Sweet Pea had said, and Jughead held up his hands and scrunched his eyebrows together like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
“I had my hands on your dick just a minute ago!” he'd shouted. “You made me come from grinding against your thigh! While I was still in my underwear!”
“You won't let me fuck you,” Sweet Pea had said. It had sounded petulant even to his own ears.
Jughead had covered his face with his hands.
“Oh my god, I can't believe you're making me say this. Like falling off the couch wasn't humiliating enough.”
Sweet Pea had waited while Jughead stood, seemingly in the grip of some internal battle.
“You're just-.” Jughead had said. “You're-,”
Sweet Pea raised his eyebrow.
“You're really big, OK?” He'd finally forced out. “You're really big, and I've never done this before.”
Sweet Pea had played it off like no big deal, calling Jughead a 'sweet talker', and told him to do his goddamn job and jerk off his big scary dick already, but honestly? Holy shit, it was the hottest thing he'd ever heard.
Jughead Jones was a virgin, and the the thought of taking Sweet Pea's dick made him nervous. Sweet Pea had decided then and there that he'd get Jughead to the point where he'd feel ready for it.
And here they are, a couple of weeks later, and Jughead is standing in front of him in Sweet Pea's bedroom, saying that maybe they could skip straight ahead to the part where Sweet Pea's dick is inside him.
Sweet Pea grins. “No way, Romeo.” He's been looking forward to this part way too much for that.
He meets Jughead in a kiss, his hands on Jughead's waist, his fingers caressing his back almost of their own accord. Jughead sighs into his mouth and his hands go immediately to clutch at Sweet Pea's shoulders. For a little while Sweet Pea allows himself to get lost in the simple pleasure of kissing his boyfriend, but soon Jughead is tugging impatiently at his t-shirt, and with one last peck, Sweet Pea disentangles himself from their embrace, and pulls his shirt over his head.
He doesn't, strictly speaking, need to be naked for what he's got planned, but Jughead prefers a level playing field. Maybe some other time, Sweet Pea thinks, he can have Jughead naked on his clothed lap the way he really wants, but the relationship is still too new for that, Jughead still too unsure.
Jughead is undressing too, removing his t-shirt and jeans, and finally; his chin raised like it's a challenge, his boxers.
Sweet Pea grins, lazily unbuttoning his fly while he rakes his eyes over Jughead's lithe form. The first time he'd seen him without his customary layers, he'd been pleasantly surprised by what he'd seen. He'd expected Jughead to be a reedy, skinny little thing, but his body had turned out to be nicely toned, with a hard stomach and strong arms. Sometimes Sweet Pea doesn't mind being proved wrong.
“Feel like you're still overdressed,” Jughead says, and Sweet Pea makes short work of his jeans, throwing them vaguely in the direction of his discarded shirt.
Then they're kissing again, Jughead's hands cradling Sweet Pea's face like he's something infinitely precious, his tongue tangling hotly with Sweet Pea's. Sweet Pea surreptitiously steer them towards the bed, sinking down on the mattress with a soft groan and pulling Jughead down on his lap by his hips.
Jughead nibbles on his lip, and pulls back a little. He's gazing at Sweet Pea with a soft look on his face, his eyes heavy-lidded and dark. Sweet Pea smiles helplessly at him, besotted in spite of himself. He tugs gently at the lock of hair that's falling in a messy tumble over Jughead's forehead, breaking the odd mood that's fallen over them.
“Trying to distract me?” he says, his voice soft.
“I can neither confirm nor deny,” Jughead says, sounding so douchey that Sweet Pea feels entirely within his right to wrestle him down.
Jughead laughs and struggles against his grip, but his heart clearly isn't in it, and soon Sweet Pea's got him exactly where he wants him; bent over Sweet Pea's lap, his face hidden in his arms and his ass raised and ready for the taking.
He's not laughing any more. He is breathing kind of hard though, and though his face is half-hidden, Sweet-Pea can tell he's blushing. He's nervous, but still letting Sweet Pea go through with this, and it's really ridiculously hot.
Sweet Pea's got one hand on his ass, just letting it rest there, fingers brushing against his hole, allowing Jughead to get used to the feeling. With his other hand he reaches for the lube. He squeezes some out on his fingers, letting it get a little warmer, and then he gently rubs, a featherlight brush against his rim. The sight of Jughead's tight little ass shiny with lube does things to him, but he keeps his touch light. Jughead is shivering a little, so Sweet Pea pushes down on his back, grounding him.
“You okay?” he asks, voice a little rough.
“Yeah,” Jughead says. He squirms a little. “You can keep going.”
Sweet Pea does not need to be told twice. He keeps up the rubbing for a while, adding more lube, his touches getting more demanding, using more pressure. Jughead is shifting against his thigh, a small undulating movement Sweet Pea isn't even sure he's aware he's doing.
Jughead is relaxed now, and it doesn't take a lot of pressure for the tip of Sweet Pea's middle finger to slip in. He holds his breath, half expecting Jughead to tense up, but he just sighs softly, lifting his hips a little, his erection brushing against Sweet Pea's thigh.
Sweet Pea adds more lube, and gently pushes in again, raptly watching the way Jughead's opening up for him now. Ever so careful, he pulls out again, and then pushes back in, all the excess lube making the glide easy as anything. “I'm finger-fucking Jughead Jones!” his brain, always helpful, tells him.
He keeps going, his middle finger fucking in and out in a smooth motion.
“Feels good,” Jughead murmurs.
“Think you can take another one?” Sweet Pea asks him.
“Yeah,” Jughead says.
There's a little more resistance this time, but Jughead opens up for him sweet as anything. Sweet Pea watches the way his rim, shiny with lube, stretches around his thick fingers. It's obscene in the best way possible.
When he brushes against his prostate, Jughead moans helplessly and practically jack-knives off the bed.
Sweet Pea laughs, but it comes out a little hoarse. Jughead isn't the only one who's hard enough to pound nails. He tightens his grip on him, pushes his chest down harder against the bed.
He keeps fucking into him with his fingers, ever so often hitting his prostate, loving the way Jughead is falling to pieces under his ministrations. He's basically humping Sweet Pea's thigh at this point, mindlessly chasing his own pleasure, his soft moans spurring Sweet Pea on.
Jughead's body accepts the third finger easily, and Sweet Pea watches, rapt, as his hole greedily clutches at his fingers.
Jughead comes from that; just from riding Sweet Pea's fingers. Sweet Pea hears his moans rising in pitch, feels the way his ass flutters around him, the wet splatter of come on his thigh. If he was a nicer person, this is where he'd pull out. Give Jughead a chance to recover from the high of his orgasm.
He's never claimed to be nice though, so he doesn't.
Just keeps fucking into him, nice and slow. Jughead reaches back to bat away his hand, but it's weak, and when Sweet Pea grabs his hand, presses it against his back, he subsides. Lets Sweet Pea do what he wants to him.
“You're such an asshole,” he says; whimpers really, and Sweet Pea takes perverse pleasure in angling for his prostate again.
Jughead twitches, overstimulated. The rim of his hole looks red and puffy now, and Sweet Pea thinks, pleased, “I did that.”
He let's go of Jughead's hand in favor of getting more lube, and smiles when Jughead just... keeps it there.
Jughead's dick is twitching against Sweet Pea's thigh, valiantly starting to fill up again.
He pulls out his fingers, admires the sight of Jughead's well-fucked hole. He squirts out more lube, spreads it around the rim until it's glistening again. Fucks back into him, just with two fingers this time. Avoids his prostate for now, giving Jughead some chance to recover. Thinks about tomorrow, how sore Jughead will be. They're in the same History class, and Sweet Pea looks forward to watching him squirm in his seat, shooting him baleful glances over his shoulder. Knowing that he'll be back for more anyway.