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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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[ Reggie can't be sure at what point he set the beer bottle down, just that suddenly he has one hand down Archie's pants and the other one settled on the small of his back, pulling his body in closer. They've only barely started and this already feels so-- under normal circumstances it may feel wrong, far too complicated to even humor the idea, but actually, it's strangely easy.

It'd be a lie to say Reggie's never thought about it before, even if normally, obviously, it'd be too complicated to act on, but both Archie and the few beers they've drank are giving him as good an excuse as any to go along with it. Sometimes a little fooling around between friends just... happens.

Reggie simply nods in response so he doesn't have to speak awkwardly around Archie's thumb, gliding his tongue along it slowly and gently grazing his teeth against it as he lifts his gaze to meet Archie's again, raising one eyebrow. It's hard not to wonder what Archie's thinking, if they're both thinking the same things, but at the same time he's trying to keep his mind as clear as possible, because this is exactly the sort of thing overthinking can ruin. Better to focus on Archie's fingers, and whatever else of his Reggie can put his mouth on before finally making it to his lips. Maybe that's backwards, but--

Well, kissing is different, somehow. Just enough that he can't tell if it would be too intimate for whatever this is, more difficult to take back later if it came to that, but they'll figure it out if and when they get there. For now, he slides his hand all the way down Archie's pants, fingers groping around to stroke him a bit clumsily over his underwear. ]

( in the same vein, archie doesn’t know if he starts inching forward on his knees before reggie’s hand reels him in or if he goes willingly because of it. it’s awkward, hovering about a foot away from him, looming, when all of this good stuff is directly in front of him. he has to readjust the placement of his knees to the outside of reggie’s thighs, effectively straddling him. pushing at his leg to urge him to straighten it out if he has to. it’s a lot. he lowers himself down for the sake of comfort and the ease of reaching as much of him as he desires. it is, right — a lot? but it makes sense to him, somewhere in his muddled thoughts, to climb closer because reggie’s using his tongue and teeth on him.

and he’s really, really, really into it.

so much so apparently, that he pops the button at the front of his pants, giving reggie the space to cup him through his boxers. he tenses up instinctively, lips apart, suddenly aware that he’s already half-hard under his palm. it’s not for the reasons he might think, it’s just that he worries ( comparatively ) that he’s too invested. too eager. and jesus, he’s not even touching reggie. how is this fair?

he retracts his hand away from the front of his pants and grapples for reggie’s shoulder, holding on, needing purchase. it slips down over his collarbone to his chest and that firmness is so much different than what he’s used to. not different bad, just different. he drags his other hand down, too. mourns the loss of the warmth of his tongue momentarily but everything in due time. he trails his fingers down to reggie's chin, then under it, to tip his face up towards him. he stares for too long. the contemplation of questioning how to do this all too clear on his features — although, he figures it out.

archie leans in, gripping his face harder than strictly necessary, ready to taste him when he stops short. mm, yeah, sorry. that's the hand on his dick. their lips are brushing, at least. clumsy or not— ) That feels good, Reg.

( his words are meant to be encouraging, like how he rocks his hips experimentally, selfishly up against his hand but also down on his lap in an attempt to give some friction back. )

Can I kiss you? ( but the fact that he kind of already is, considering he's speaking into his mouth, defeats the purpose of asking. he's tipsy and needy, and archie continuing to talk will get embarrassing eventually. ) Please?

[ When Archie settles himself down onto his lap Reggie makes a low, satisfied noise from his throat, something between a hum and a groan, and doesn't hesitate to fully cup Archie's growing erection once its been freed slightly more from his jeans. It's hard to keep his breathing steady, every slight escalation making it hitch a bit sharply, especially once Archie withdraws his fingers from Reggie's mouth-- he nearly groans again when Archie leans in close, just barely stopping himself by catching his lower lip with his teeth.

The hand on Archie's back moves down to grip his ass, not yet terribly tightly but enough that Reggie is able to rock his hips upward as Archie rocks his, the motion stirring up a powerful enough bolt of arousal through him that his next breath heaves out of him, harsh and shaky against Archie's lips. He's getting hard too, and he wonders if Archie can feel it. ]

Uh huh. [ It's dorky to ask, but Archie at least can pull off a little dorky; Reggie can't picture himself asking Can I blow you? without just sounding idiotic and embarrassing. Then again, on Archie it might still work. ] What're you waiting for?

( despite being the one to initiate grinding down, he’s not prepared for reggie getting stiff underneath him. archie’s dick is pressed into his palm, closer to his stomach, but he’s nearly sitting on reggie’s. something that’s made less intense, dulled down by the layers between them. he’s using archie’s ass for leverage. it’s a grip that sends an unrelenting spike in heat throughout his body. he shuts his eyes to the overwhelming sensations but he’s surrounded by them. there’s no actual reprieve, no chance to balance out.

he answers with a noise of approval, not quite a moan, when he licks into reggie’s mouth. slow and hot and nowhere close to close-lipped, chaste stuff that’s linked with first kisses. he’s not waiting anymore. he swipes his tongue against reggie’s, finally getting a taste of him, and then he really does groan, deep and strained. he trades his hand on his chest for sliding it back up until he finds the hair at the nape of his neck by touch alone. if the nearby wall scrapes his knuckles until they’re irritated, he won’t care.

made braver by something he’s familiar with, he tries rubbing down on reggie’s lap again with more focus. he breaks the kiss to gasp, ragged and uncertain. archie's watching him to see if it yields another one of those jarring groans. it's deliberate unlike the jerk of his hips forward that comes sporadically, trying to get him to move his hand. now, more, right there. he doesn't trust his voice enough to ask for anything else. )

[ Reggie does groan again, harsh and hoarse, almost as if he were in pain rather than increasingly overwhelmed with need-- the part of him that might still be uncertain, hesitant maybe, is completely drowned out by the impatience of wanting more.

His head moves forward to reclaim Archie's mouth in a rough continuation of their kiss, not ready for it to be over, and especially not ready to watch Archie looking at him like that. Reggie focuses on his tongue in Archie's mouth, his teeth every time they catch lightly on Archie's lower lip, his hand squeezing Archie's ass more firmly so that he can rock it against his own hips in some inelegant approximation of dry humping. It's difficult to move like this, but the harder Reggie gets, the more he can't just sit still.

When the moment comes for Reggie to pull back slightly, his turn to break the kiss, it's because his eyes flick downward to see what he's doing, fingers working to pull Archie's jeans open further so they can fish his dick out, wrap around it so Reggie can stroke him more attentively and attentively. After a few seconds of staring -- after he no longer needs to watch what he's doing, but continues to anyway -- Reggie catches himself, raising his eyes again, though not quite all the way up to Archie's yet. ]

( oh, but he’s a good at that. kissing. all tongue and teeth and every intention of occupying every single thought that pops into archie’s head. he can’t linger on what reggie looks like when he rolls his hips, if all of his other senses are being put into overdrive. he tastes beer, smells something that’s intrinsically reggie, can hear the rustle of denim and the wet slide of their lips, and he can feel him—hard and insistent, pressed up against the seat of his jeans, and it’s as terrifying as it is exhilarating. he’s used to being the one with someone in his lap and so he’s out of his comfort zone but god, he’s doing that to reggie. that’s what archie keeps circling back to. he’s the reason he’s hard.

he’s disappointed when their mouths separate, although not for long, not when he realizes their kiss is being traded for something more pleasurable. archie’s fingers curl at the back of reggie’s head, gently scraping with his nails and he holds on a little relentlessly, unable to make a sound for a second or two. it's isn't like he's never had a handjob before but it seems new because it's reggie. that's his hand on archie's dick, his fingers curved around him, pumping him. he wishes he had reggie's mouth to stifle his gasps with. )

Shit. ( he curses without vehemence, airy and unrestrained. archie's gaze falls between their laps as his hand retracts from reggie's neck because he wants to see too; what his dick looks like framed by reggie's hand ( fucking amazing ), where his eyes are lingering ( maybe his chest? ), and more importantly: what part of his shirt archie can bunch up in one palm to run the other up the expanse of his stomach. his hands aren't exactly soft from construction work and plucking at guitar strings but he hopes reggie won't mind. ) I wanna—

( archie can't come to the phone right now. not with his eyes slamming shut and his blunt nails digging into reggie's skin, not quite raking down but threatening to when he grunts. )

I want to touch you, too.

[ It's different, so different, but getting less intimidating by the moment. Archie is heavy, his chest is firm but flat, his hands are rough, but Reggie doesn't mind any of it. He likes it, in fact, even down to the dick in his hand, and it doesn't even matter to him in the moment that he can't come up with some easy, compulsory excuse as to why.

His hand squeezes Archie slightly -- not hard but not overly gently, either -- stroking him with slow but eager motions, trying to remember how he likes to touch himself and apply that knowledge now. Not necessarily foolproof, but it takes a lot of the guesswork out of it, too, unlike how Reggie sometimes feels when he's similarly trying to explore a girl's body. ]

Please-- god, please-- [ Please do, is the point. Reggie nods eagerly, claiming Archie's mouth in another kiss. ] Do it, Archie. It's fine. It's--

[ Reggie swallows, a part of him acknowledging that he's always wanted to touch Archie like this, for Archie to touch him, but he doesn't know if he should say that. They can always pretend this didn't happen later if they need to, they're both in it equally at this point, but something like that can't really be unsaid. ]

Come on.

( archie isn’t complex. reggie’s hand tightens around him and he stirs on his lap, knees digging into his hips. it shines a spotlight on how simple it would be to take and experience without giving anything back. his lips part, this time divided with a grin to showcase his enjoyment. words like always require conviction that archie doesn’t have in this—in them. reggie’s one of his best friends . . .

and his fingers drift lower anyway, beneath his navel. please, god, please fans the fire, engulfing him completely. he navigates by touch alone, fumbling with reggie’s belt ( if he’s wearing one ) and the front of his pants. how hot is that? tasting him on his lips, knowing where this is going, hearing his encouragement.

he has to insert some space between them, scooting down on reggie’s thighs some to make this feasible. he feels his heart jump into his throat ( this is happening, it’s happeningit’shappeningit’s ) and he swallows, too, acting before he can change his mind. archie chews hit bottom lip, eyes downcast, gazing unabashedly as he spreads reggie’s jeans open as wide as he can and promptly cups him through his underwear. he’s firm and warm, and archie sucks in a slow breath, wets his lips, and carefully withdraws reggie’s dick from the confines of his underwear. he can’t look at him, doesn’t want to know if reggie’s waiting expectantly, wondering when he’s going to get into it. so he traces him with his index finger and thumb, hand curved around his dick, while he tries to wrap his mind around how someone else’s erection feels on his skin. he does look up then, during the slow but steady drag of his touch, trying to mirror reggie’s ministrations as much as what he thinks is pleasurable.

he grasps at reggie's shoulder with his other hand, needing grounding of some kind. he wants to say something but nothing comes out, not when his mind's alight with possibilities, things like reggie against him — side by side, on top of him, beneath him. archie's really not fussed. )

[ It feels more like some kind of fever dream than reality, deliriously overwhelming and yet strangely perfect, despite the fumbling and the clumsiness, or maybe even better for that.

Reggie swallows, pushing his hips up slightly off the floor to allow Archie better access and ease to get his jeans open, watching Archie's hand with intoxicated interest-- it gets a sharp shiver up his spine, that touch, that stroking, and he groans almost immediately. ]

God--

[ More sounds tumble out of him almost uncontrollably, some of them words, some of them just strained groans and grunts of pleasure. Reggie exhales heavily, pulling Archie's face close again by his hair for another kiss while he shifts his hips, putting his other hand over Archie's to try and take both of their dicks in his (their) hand(s) and stroke them together. He's painfully hard, sweating and already leaking some precome, but it only makes it easier to keep stroking-- he wants more, but he doesn't even know what that more would be, or could be, or should be. ]

Do you-- [ It's hard to speak, or breath, especially to get the words out. He's not even sure what he intends to ask, what he means by it exactly, but asks anyway: ] Do you want...?

( reggie reels him in and archie doesn’t resist in the slightest. he gravitates to reggie’s mouth with his like its the center of his universe, as if kissing him is better than oxygen. that all gets sidelined when his palm covers archie’s on his dick and he has to readjust, figure out how to posture and get their hands around both of them and his mouth goes slack. he keens into reggie’s mouth, huffs against it, digs his fingers harder into his shoulder for leverage to roll his hips again — up into their hands, sliding his dick against reggie’s. he’s probably going to feel it in his knees later. archie decides it so doesn't matter. )

More? ( he supplies, guessing the end of the sentence. ) You?

( a hasty breath and it hits him like a splash of cold water to the face. yeah. yeah, he wants him. that recognition comes with a bit more clarity than being impulsive. )

Yes, ( he admits weakly, not intimidated by the truth, yet uncertain about what comes next. how they do this. he has a general understanding, at least. it's with a mournful glance that he pulls his hand away from their dicks in order to use both of his to twist at the hem of reggie's shirt. ) But first, I want your clothes the rest of the way off.

( he realizes that means they'll have to slam on the brakes temporarily. and??? the concept of time that should probably push them to hurry ( life, homework, parents ) isn't whispering in archie's ear right now. he pauses halfway up his torso to doublecheck. ) Don't you?

Yeah...

[ It's quiet, more breath than voice, but Reggie nods to reaffirm the point: yes, hell yes, to all of that, to every single thing Archie says. He wants him, too, and with such intensity it's hard for Reggie to remember ever wanting anything else more. Heat of the moment logic, no doubt, but who the hell cares? This wouldn't be happening if not for heat of the moment logic-- right now this is all that matters, and when it's over, reality will reset however it's meant to. ]

Yeah-- [ He almost gasps it this time, heated and frantic. ] How should we--?

[ It almost doesn't matter, because no matter how they do that, clothes are still coming off. Reggie pushes Archie back slightly, just enough so he can pull his shirt off over his head, and then tries to fumble out of his pants without having to move Archie off him completely, easing them down past his hips and then using his feet to pull them off the rest of the way. He wets his lips impatiently, nodding at Archie again. ]

You too. Strip, Andrews. [ Then he smirks a little, correcting himself: ] Archie.

( his first thought is to ask how do you usually? there’s no right or wrong way, and so archie keeps the sassy response restrained. he knows what reggie means anyway. there’s no simple way of maneuvering with archie in his lap even when he scoots back to give him space. he guesses he’s staring, that he’s been gawking, judging by the command he gets.

archie yanks his shirt off in a quick motion and has less luck with his jeans. he’s not going to bother trying to pull off undressing while remaining on top of him because he’s not cool™ like reggie is and he doesn’t want to get stuck trying to shimmy out of his jeans. that sounds ten kinds of humiliating. it’s altogether easier to roll off of him to the side and more or less mirror him, bending to shove them as far down as they’ll go and kicking them the rest of the way off.

but he stops with his thumbs hooked in the waistband of his boxers. ) Are we...?

Should I keep these on? ( he doesn't want to be too pushy or too prudent, hence asking. yes, he knows what they were doing a minute ago. he hasn't forgotten. archie's not positive how far this is going and at the risk of making it Too Real and asking too many questions, he wants to be sure he's not jumping the shark. ) Because I want to feel you on my skin but I don't want to make it weird. ( like that? you don't want to make it weird like that? ) I am though, aren't I? Making it weird. ( he exhales. ) It's the beer. It's making me ( spiral, horny, ramble-y? ) say what I wouldn't otherwise.

God, I'm so hard. ( point made. has reggie gotten a word in edgewise? has he fallen asleep? climbed out a window? archie has no idea. he's not whining, per se, but good luck with every inside thought turning into an outside word, reggie. shut him up any time now. )

[ Archie's babbling is strangely more endearing than off-putting to Reggie, maybe because it makes him seem and feel much more smooth in comparison, or maybe just because it's cute. Whatever the case, they're still making progress, and that's the important thing.

Reggie shifts slightly onto his side after Archie moves off of him, leaning on his arm as his eyes scan over Archie's body slowly in an appreciative, unsubtle way. Then he laughs a little. ]

Yeah. Take them off. [ Reggie leans a little closer, tipping Archie's chin up for another quick kiss. ] Relax, Archie. We're doing this, we're already...

[ Kissing, touching, stripping-- once you've touched dicks it seems a little past the point of no return, might as well just finish what they've started. And honestly, Reggie wants to.

He touches Archie's chest, dragging his fingers slowly up it, up his neck to his chin. ]

All you have to say-- [ Another kiss on the mouth, a bit deeper this time. ] Is how you want it.

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wow this is a month late. pls don't feel obligated to reply.

you're good 💖

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