[The thing is, despite the two long weeks of feeling these very feelings, he did sorta half-expect them to go away once he sobered up. Like, once the comforting haze of being drunk and not feeling the need to question literally anything disappeared, it would go back to seeming strange and impossible even as the memory of what almost was was the only clear and solid one he had of the night of their party. But now suddenly his brain is running at its normal clip and nothing about the last few minutes has faded away into the same oblivion as a good chunk of his more drunken memories. If anything, it's almost more clear now than when it was actually happening.
So, caution to the wind (not that he'd exactly started any of this with caution in hand), he surges forward again, hands flying up to cup Reggie's face as he kisses him for the second time, insistent and almost bruising. Maybe he's making sure that it feels as real with a clear head. Maybe just because Archie really likes making out. Probably both.
When he comes back up for air he looks a touch more shy than anyone with his dick already in someone's hand really should. He can't remember ever being prompted to make a request before—they'd done what Geraldine wanted always, always—and it's almost difficult to not feel selfish while making it, but he has been thinking about it for two whole weeks now and he might never forgive himself if he just. Doesn't bother while he has the chance.]
I mean, if you still want to— [He looks down to where Reggie's hand disappears under the loose band of his sweatpants, then back up to his lips, hanging there for a long few seconds before Archie manages to make eye-contact again.] ... since you stopped. At the party.
no subject
So, caution to the wind (not that he'd exactly started any of this with caution in hand), he surges forward again, hands flying up to cup Reggie's face as he kisses him for the second time, insistent and almost bruising. Maybe he's making sure that it feels as real with a clear head. Maybe just because Archie really likes making out. Probably both.
When he comes back up for air he looks a touch more shy than anyone with his dick already in someone's hand really should. He can't remember ever being prompted to make a request before—they'd done what Geraldine wanted always, always—and it's almost difficult to not feel selfish while making it, but he has been thinking about it for two whole weeks now and he might never forgive himself if he just. Doesn't bother while he has the chance.]
I mean, if you still want to— [He looks down to where Reggie's hand disappears under the loose band of his sweatpants, then back up to his lips, hanging there for a long few seconds before Archie manages to make eye-contact again.] ... since you stopped. At the party.
[You can say blowjob, Archie, it won't kill you.]