bragnificent | IC CONTACT ➛ mask or menace.

[ The worst thing about this is everything-- which is probably an overly dramatic take on things, but Reggie's feeling it anyway. Pretty much everything he could (should) say right now goes in the face of both how he's used to handling things and how he prefers handling things, even though a lot of his instincts are also, frankly, counter-intuitive to anything he might really want. When it comes to feelings is just about the only time Reggie tries to keep his expectations low, "realistic", especially when friends are involved.

This time is, of course, his bad, and he doesn't like admitting to things like that either. But if anything's clear to him right now it's that he's going to have to make some kind of compromise if he wants to actually put things a little bit right.

Reggie doesn't let go of Archie's wrist, though his other hand moves to pat, then grip, Archie's shoulder. He shakes his head. ]

Think you're just confused, Archie. It's the booze talking or something-- you'll sleep all this off and feel different in the morning.

[ Right...? Except Archie said he'd been thinking about this, and it's been long enough since the party by now that Reggie can't dismiss that as drunk bullshit entirely. Reggie looks at him, gaze dropping to Archie's lips for what is probably a few seconds too long, and then he leans close so that they're forehead-to-forehead.

Still playing it safe, but not that safe. Reggie exhales slowly and says nothing for a moment, trying to figure this out without admitting to anything he's not yet ready to. He wants to say Please don't overthink it but that's probably even more of a mistake. And that train has left the station anyway. ]

Listen, it wasn't just random-- it's not that I wouldn't wanna go through with anything, I just-- I can't really explain it, Arch. I know we're not-- [ Not what... ] But you are like... important to me. Okay?

[The sudden closeness makes him dizzy, and all at once it feels like there's a lot going on. Too much. And not enough still, somehow—Archie's fingers twitch, and he feels electric, like he had two weeks ago in the hallway.

For a long moment he doesn't know what to do, or say, or think, or feel. But as much as he wants to be wanted, it's the last bit (the important bit) that makes him forget everything else.

And he does what he always does when the whole world is tangled up around him but one person finds a way to make him feel good and worthwhile regardless: he tilts his head just enough to close the distance between them, pressing his mouth to Reggie's.]

[ The hesitation before Reggie kisses back only lasts seconds, the time it takes for him to decide he doesn't care if this is a bad idea. It could be, almost definitely will be, but he's thought about this too many times before already.

He'd sort of invited it, anyway; the forehead lean can be a move of his, easily shrugged off when unsuccessful, but clearly worth its weight in gold the times when it does land. The hand on Archie's shoulder moves slowly up his neck, before Reggie's fingers disappear in Archie's thick red hair and tug it gently to pull Archie closer. Reggie opens his mouth up to the kiss, inviting more while his other hand moves to stroke up Archie's arm.

Fuck, Reggie thinks, although not angrily. There's more to that thought, too, enough that Reggie might normally stew in his inability to unthink it, but right now he actually doesn't care much; without breaking the kiss he steps out from his room just enough to close the door behind him, offering them something stable to lean against. Were the conditions different, of course, he'd probably consider closing the door with both of them on the other side, but for now all Reggie can think about is Archie's warm mouth and how his bicep feels under Reggie's fingers. ]

[Oh, now there's fingers in his hair: that's the stuff. Archie makes a noise in the back of his throat, pressing himself as close up against Reggie as he can possibly get, hands wandering around for the best place to settle. He did kiss Kyle a little bit, he thinks (or did he... hard to remember), so it's not his first time making out with someone as big and solid as himself (probably), but it's still novel.

Eventually one hand lands on Reggie's hip, and the other slips up his side to curl around his back, a subtle way for him to hang on so he doesn't end up clumsily overbalancing anytime soon. When he's secure, the light, soft exploration of Reggie's mouth turns more insistent: when he tugs at Reggie's bottom lip it's with his teeth now, not his own lips. His tongue drags against the roof of Reggie's mouth, and Archie maneuvers him as well as he can up against the now-closed door.]

[ Leaning back against the door, Reggie focuses on balancing his weight between it and Archie's body, the way they're both currently pressed together. He's fooled around like this before, it's not his first rodeo by any means, but there's still something uniquely overwhelming about the experience that makes Reggie feel slightly dizzy, too-- though not in a bad way, especially if he doesn't think too much about why that might be.

Reggie murmurs sounds of encouragement against Archie's mouth, panting whenever they part slightly only to then attack Archie's mouth more roughly and tug harder at his hair. The hand on Archie's arm moves downward so Reggie can anchor himself better, gripping Archie's ass. Then he relents his hold on Archie's hair, pulling back just enough to breathe, then speak. ]

Archie...

[ It's tempting to invite more, to offer to finish what they never got to the night of the party, but Reggie can recognize that's something better saved for a time either both of them will remember, or neither will. Still, Reggie doesn't push him away, only smirks slightly. ]

You are so damn drunk, dude. But if you weren't--

[ That's all he can manage so far-- they should stop, he knows this, but he's also not quite ready to stop yet. He kisses Archie again, figuring that if they do have to stop there's at least no harm in easing into it slowly. ]

I mean, you could be too... [Archie is maybe not full of great ideas even when he's stone cold sober, so it's probably not actually comforting that that particular one feels absolutely solid to him. When you're drunk, you don't have to question things, it's great!! And Reggie seems like maybe he's questioning things right now.

Well, not that much. Since they're still kissing.

Slower now, though, like maybe it's coming to an end. Archie is more than a little reluctant: he does like kissing just for kissing's sake, it makes him feel like he's not so alone for a little while, but this kiss... it's good, in ways that his other drunken makeouts hadn't really been. Not that they were bad, but this feels different, somehow.

Like Ronnie had always been different somehow. Archie doesn't really know how to process that, right now, so like everything on the night of the party, he just... doesn't bother.

He doesn't pull back, but he does still manage to mutter sheepishly:] You'll have to make more, though. [Listen. He was at the complete end of his rope. If he'd have known that he could just get a touch wasted and kiss it out earlier he wouldn't have spent two weeks going out of his mind every time the memory slipped back up to haunt him. (That's a lie he probably still would have.)]

I don't need to be. [ Drunk, that is. By which he means... ] Being drunk or being sober only changes what I do, not what I want.

[ And he very, very much wants this, enough that it's painful to consider turning it down, bringing it to an end. Enough that actually saying that might be somewhat revealing, more so than he wants it to be, if he was at all worried that Archie would even remember after he sobered up again.

Reggie doesn't know much, but he knows him getting drunk now wouldn't solve his other concern-- that maybe Archie is just confused, that he might not really want any of this the way he thinks he does right now. If Reggie's his friend, he should care about that, right? Because there's no way for him to really be sure when he's obviously the only one between them thinking somewhat clearly right now. It's not even that Reggie's smart or educated enough to be able to navigate the nuances of consent in cases such as this, but he knows all about drunken impulses, mistakes, and regrets; enough to make him hesitate.

He exhales slowly, moving his hand to the front of Archie's pants to cup his groin, hand and fingers steady despite the conflict weighing on him. He wets his lips, trying to make a decision. Steel his resolve. Resist the desire to unzip Archie right there as the zipper rests against Reggie's thumbnail. But all Reggie does is leave his hand there, stroking Archie slowly through his pants. ]

I have a better idea. [ He says, finally. ] How about we both go to bed first, and then... if you still want to in the morning, well-- you know.

[ He imagines Archie will probably forget and god HE HATES THIS... but it seems better than dealing with a potentially angry Archie later, especially since Reggie can't really blame things on alcohol, even if he were to start drinking now. ]

I mean, I do still owe you.

Edited (asdlkj it ate some) 2017-07-11 14:19 (UTC)

[That sounds like a terrible idea, probably the worst ever, because the sudden pressure on his dick makes Archie's hips buck and he grabs onto Reggie's biceps for support. Sure, it's just a hand over his sweatpants, but it's more than he's had in months (aside from the night of the party which certainly didn't help) and like kissing, or dating, or anything really... it does that funny thing where it starts to feel a little less like maybe he's got a big empty void in the pit of his belly that he doesn't understand or know how to address.

Which is probably why he sounds absolutely appalled when he asks:] What? Now? [He can't even imagine just going to bed first. Waiting that long. He can't imagine feeling any less like this, ever, unless Reggie's hand keeps moving like that and suddenly the prospect of adding hours onto the two weeks worth of waiting is nigh unthinkable. Archie leans in again, leaving a trail of slow, clumsy, wet kisses up the curve of Reggie's jaw, hopeful and insistent.

Part of it is physical (okay, a lot of it), but so much of it isn't just that and he wants— he wants. He doesn't know how to express it with anything but his mouth sliding over warm skin. Muffled there:] Come on, don't stop.

[ And with that, there goes the last of Reggie's restraint, but let no one say he didn't try to do what he assumed was the responsible thing. Not that he can really be sure what that actually is, because all he really knows about "responsibility" in situations like this is "don't fuck drunk people if you're sober." Same thing everyone knows, basically.

But that's also not what's happening now. It's... ]

Okay. Okay... [ Breathing hard, Reggie doesn't stop; he also wants. ] I didn't want to, but--

[ Breathless or not, Reggie tilts his head to make room for Archie, still surprised at how overwhelmed he feels-- not in a bad way, but in a way he'd never expect of himself. He never anticipated any of this happening, though, ever, which is probably why.

He moves his stroking from outside Archie's pants to inside, his fingers wrapping eagerly around Archie's dick. He'll still stop if he's told to, of course, but until that happens-- well, it does seem wrong, he can't blueball Archie twice in a row, right? Reggie's not here trying to play hard to get; Archie's been thinking about this, and obviously so has Reggie... though probably for longer.

Also, Reggie is rarely hard to get. ]

You like that?

[Archie loses his concentration at the progression to skin-on-skin, and at first his mouth stops moving and he just stands there with his lips on the curve Reggie's jaw, breathing, but as he starts to get hard with the movement his forehead drops down into the crook of Reggie's neck. It's warmer than he thought it'd be, softer somehow than he'd ever imagined (though he'd only actually been imagining for a few weeks now.) His fingers curl around the solid bulk of Reggie's arms, and even if the situation is familiar enough—it's certainly not the first handjob he's ever gotten—everything about this time is new and strange.

Exciting.]

God, [he groans, before nodding with his face still hidden against Reggie's skin. It feels good, so much better than his own hand, rendered increasingly inadequate over two weeks of progressively more profound frustration. He wants to melt and he wants to explode, and his eyes are closed (when did that happen?) so he could think of anyone when he starts to roll his hips into the grip around his dick.

He could, but he doesn't.] Reggie.

[ Reggie can't help but smirk, entirely pleased -- not to mention turned on, himself -- with how this is turning out, how Archie's responding to him. Fuck, Archie is cute. He always has been cute, but like this Reggie can finally allow himself to appreciate that fact fully, especially knowing that even out of the other people (boys included) Archie messed around with at their party, Reggie's the one who's remained in Archie's thoughts.

So maybe all the booze and coke hadn't been such a terrible idea after all.

Reggie leans his weight back slightly against the door, turning his head to kiss the top of Archie's, and then just resting it there against Archie's soft hair. ]

That's my name. [ He exhales, almost a laugh. More quietly, he murmurs: ] Relax, bro, I got you.

[ Reggie wets his lips, then bites them at the corner; the way Archie groans his name is striking below the belt, quite literally. Good, but Reggie is almost painfully turned on by now.

Almost panting, he withdraws his hand from Archie's pants just long enough so he can spit into his palm and then return it, stroking Archie more fervently now with that mild respite in friction. His other arm wraps tighter around Archie, fingers again digging deeper into his hair, and Reggie's eyes close too as he indulges in holding Archie like this. He decides he doesn't care if Archie doesn't remember most of this later, or if it never happens again; he wants, wants too much, but this is already more than he ever expected. Like... a fantasy. ]

[Oh. This is the best?? This is the best.

Not even the handjob part, exactly, though he's certainly not not enjoying that. But the fingers tugging at his hair, the barely-there pressure of a wayward kiss to the top of his head, the way his heart flip-flops around in his chest because he can hear the want in Reggie's voice. For him. And Reggie is so much more sturdy and solid than anyone else he knows, why hadn't he ever noticed that before? He's so easy to lean against, to relax into bonelessly, even as Archie presses insistently into the hand when it returns, wetter than before.

It's different than-- than his last, somehow. Not physically (although, yes physically), not just because Reggie doesn't have cello callouses. But there's something else, something... easier. It's almost like there's less pressure to prove himself, or be left in the dust.]

Please. [It's more a sigh than a word, too busy soaking up the attention and affection to think about returning it just yet while his brain isn't firing on all cylinders. ] I want— [He doesn't know, actually. Everything. More of this, certainly, even though he isn't... actually getting any harder.

Ahh, whiskey dick.]

[ He's so wrapped up, both in what he's doing and that it's Archie he's doing it with, that it takes Reggie a few seconds to realize anything's amiss; Archie is warm and firm and responsive against him, similar to how Reggie always pictured he might be. But different too, of course, because it's actually real. Before now, he never took seriously the idea that anything might ever happen.

Now that it is, all his focus is on not ruining it, not overthinking things. This is sometimes how things go between friends in the middle of the night, especially when alcohol's involved; nothing wrong with that. And in that case, Reggie knows already that his best -- if not only -- recourse is to be fine with it.

He refuses to worry. He'll think only about wanting, not about why. ]

What do you w-- oh, no. [ Now he notices. ] No no no no-- come on.

[ It shouldn't really be a surprise, all things considered, but before it occurs to him that perhaps this is a sign to call it a night, Reggie's instinct is to drop to his knees and try to fix the problem with his mouth-- or it is before he catches himself and remembers, no, we're not doing that while Archie's drunk. So he hisses: ]

Fuck.

[ And then reasserts his grip on Archie's dick, part of him wishing bitterly (not for the first time since they started, but especially now) that Archie were more sober. Because this is embarrassing, and also, well-- anti-climactic. If Archie were sober... this only goes to further prove that he really should be. ]

Edited 2017-07-21 16:42 (UTC)

[Archie is already pretty flushed, but he can feel his face heating up further in shame. His head jerks up off Reggie's shoulder when he swears, and Archie opens his mouth to make excuses, insist that this never happens, something to save face, but then...

But then.

The sensation is strange. Like all his veins start tingling (he never knew veins were something you could feel), and all the sudden the warm fog of dizziness and the illusion of time moving at a crawl is gone, like he dunked his face in a sink full of freezing water, but with none of the unpleasantness. The hand on his dick feels very there, though. Very there.

He stands up straight, straighter than he has all night certainly, though he doesn't drop his grip on Reggie's arms... and he's not exactly trying to pull away from the hand in his pants.] I— Reggie? [Any trace of a slur is gone, and his eyes are definitely more clear as well. He's blinking rapidly, like he's trying to suss out if what just happened actually happened, or if he's imagining it as they speak.]

[ Something about Archie's tone brings Reggie back from the edge of being prepared to give up and call it a night, draws his eyes toward Archie's slowly. Moments away from coming to his senses, but suddenly something is different.

Did he just...? Did Reggie do that, just now? He remembers, vaguely, Archie's idea that Reggie could get criminals drunk with his power as a way of fighting crime, but he'd never even considered the possibility that the power could also work in reverse. He isn't sure of that even now, despite the fact that Archie by all accounts does seem suddenly sober. His speech, his stance, the look in his eyes; Reggie is familiar enough with recognizing various stages of sobriety as well as intoxication.

He opens his mouth, then closes it; wets his lips as he prepares to try again, still leaving his hand wrapped firmly around Archie's dick. ]

... Yeah, Arch? Feeling okay?

[ He continues staring, uncertain... but curious. Not outright asking, but he imagines Archie will either catch his meaning or he won't, depending on if Reggie's instinct is correct or completely insane. Carefully (if a bit cheekily), he adds: ]

So what do I need to do now to get you hard?

[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.

[You can say blowjob, Archie, it won't kill you.]

[ Were Reggie someone else he might start to feel self-conscious being appraised by the now sober Archie like this, his dick still in Reggie's hand, but luckily Reggie isn't and doesn't. If he'd feel self-conscious about anything, it wouldn't be stroking or sucking Archie's dick; it'd be about some of the things Reggie said to Archie while he was still drunk.

But he might still forget. Reggie's certainly happy enough to keep him distracted, grinning in a lopsided way after Archie pulls back from their latest kiss. His jaw is going to be sore tomorrow, he can tell. Given how it already kind of is, though in that dull sort of pleasant way. ]

Hell yeah I do. [ Leaning in to reprise the kiss, but briefly. ] You sure? What happened to-- you really aren't drunk anymore, are you?

[ It's so weird, but Reggie isn't complaining. He maintains eye contact as he gets comfortable on his knees, easing Archie's sweatpants down past his hips at the same time. Were this anyone else he might make some kind of quip about now to lighten the mood, say whatever needed saying to satisfy both their egos or potential insecurities, but with Archie he really has no idea what needs saying. Or what doesn't.

So he just winks, holding Archie's cock steady before leaning his forehead against Archie's abdomen again like he'd done the other night, but this time he's not going anywhere; Reggie eases his tongue out wetly across Archie's skin. ]

IC CONTACT ➛ mask or menace.

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