OPEN POST.

[bragnificent]

OPEN POST

psls ✦ memes/overflow ✦ aus ✦ pic prompt

✦ this is open to everyone, no need to ask first before commenting! feel free to PM if you'd like to discuss anything. please mark NSFW accordingly.
✦ open to both castmates and cross-canon, & shipping with any gender is fine.

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[hissedicuffs]

( he barely notices reggie's hands connect with his chest — though, somewhere in the back of his head, he wishes they'd stayed there — yet his eyes flicker down anyway, as if sizing reggie up again, trying to decide what exactly he wants to do with him.

he feels like a bull getting ready for the charge, his nostrils flared, his jaw tensing; every word out of reggie's mouth is a red flag and sweet pea swears he can feel his blood boil beneath his skin, his cheeks flushing in rage. his hand slips roughly up reggie's neck, but he doesn't quite press hard enough to be uncomfortable. no, he just wants reggie to know that he could. but he won't, because that isn't who he is. or, it's not who he is at this very moment.

he leans in, his barely an inch away from reggie's. he can feel the heat of reggie's breath on his face, the quickening beat of his pulse under his fingers. )

You don't have a fucking clue, do you? All bark, no bite. ( which isn't strictly true, but sweet pea isn't going to admit that. it doesn't matter how many times he gets called trailer trash; it's always going to hurt, and some stupid part of his brain is going to tell him it's true. that he isn't worth anything, that he's just another lowlife who crawled out of sunnyside with a knife in his mouth. some days, he believes it. but today isn't one of those days. today he's got something to prove. ) You think I don't notice the way you look at me?

( his lips barely brush reggie's, there and then gone. he lowers his voice to a husky whisper. he could be completely wrong, and they'll just end up punching each other, but he has a pretty good feeling he's not. reggie has never been terribly sutble, and sweet pea is a lot more observant than reggie thinks he is. is this a worse idea than using their fists to solve their problems? probably. but there's a different kind of tension buzzing between them that a fistfight just won't resolve. ) Come on, Mantle. Admit it.

[bragnificent]

I--

[ At his sides Reggie's hands open, suddenly unsure what to do; they simply hang there frozen, a bit like Reggie himself. He'd already tensed when Sweet Pea hit him with that "you think I don't notice the way you look at me?" challenge, prepared to have to defend himself from whatever implications might follow. How does Reggie look at him? What the hell does that mean?

But the kiss makes things clearer. If it can even really be called a kiss, that is, but it certainly makes the point. He exhales sharply, one hand finally finding its way back up to Sweet Pea's chest, but not to shove-- just to rest. He wets his lips again in annoyance and briefly glances aside, unsure of what to say.

Fuck. Or maybe... fuck it. ]

What the hell's respect got to do with it?

[ That's hardly much of an admission to anything, but then Reggie's other hand hesitantly digs itself into Sweet Pea's hair, pulling him closer into a more proper kiss. It's cautious at first, slow and testing like he's prepared for this to be a trap, but then gradually growing more aggressive. Reggie doesn't need Sweet Pea's respect, he's decided. Hoarsely, he adds: ]

Cuz you're not getting any from me.

[ (That remains to be seen.) ]

[hissedicuffs]

( it's a victory, of some kind, when reggie pulls him in all the way, the space between their mouths ceasing to exist. distantly, sweet pea wonders if reggie has ever even kissed a boy before now. the irony of being his first isn't lost on him, makes it all the more sweet, truth be told. or maybe reggie's fooled around with that andrews kid in the locker room when no one was looking. sweet pea doesn't really care. he's more interested in the fact that reggie is what one might call enthusiastic. aggressive, sure, but that's to be expected between them. everything is a fight. this is no exception.

sweet pea pushes back, his tongue sliding between reggie's teeth. as long as his mouth is occupied, sweet pea won't have to listen to his bullshit. it's not the worst idea he's ever had, but it's working — for the most part. he groans when reggie keeps talking, somehow, even when they're sharing the same air, their breaths circulating between the scant space where their mouths part. he juts his hip forward, partially out of frustration, and partially just to see how reggie will react, blunt fingernails digging into the back of reggie's neck. )

Do you ever shut up? ( rhetorical. because, yes, he's aware that for fifteen whole minutes reggie was behind the wheel they barely spoke a word. that's not the point. they weren't making out then. )

[bragnificent]

[ Reggie's certainly been shut up effectively for the moment, at least in a manner of speaking-- he may not be talking, but his enthusiasm continues to make itself known by the growls and groans that he makes into and against the kiss. The more Sweet Pea pushes, the more steadily emboldened Reggie seems to get, his fingers digging and pulling roughly at Sweet Pea's hair, the hand on Sweet Pea's very slowly creeping southward.

This is a problem. A different kind of problem than the two of them usually have when they're in a room together, or even from their partnership, because before they started kissing, Reggie was perfectly content with the deliberate state of blissful ignorance that allowed him to not have to acknowledge any desire for Sweet Pea at all. Yes, there's always been something different about Reggie's disdain for him compared to, say, Reggie's disdain for Jughead, but it was easy enough to pretend like that difference wasn't attraction. There were always plenty of other factors in play to distract enough from that.

But now that they are kissing, Reggie wants to let it happen, like a switch has been flipped in his brain amplifying all the angry lust that's been simmering under the surface this entire time. He has wanted this, even before he ever let himself know he did.

Sweet Pea's hip pushes forward and Reggie's hand slips down from his chest, beginning to blindly try to grapple with Sweet Pea's belt buckle. He barely thinks about it, acting more on instinct now than strategy, concerned with only getting Sweet Pea's pants open rather than if he's moving too fast or too far yet. ]