Quarantine content because I miss writing. I haven't written in a while, months actually. I cry about that sometimes. I usually don't like when authors update books after a few years with tons of bonus content, it sort of just feels like an attempt to stay relevant and a refusal to move on, but here I am...
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Jughead stared out of the window of his home office, watching the snow whirl around in pretty patterns, its presence light and its impact heavy. The blinding white light poured into every crevice of the room, making the blue walls feel more cold and lonely than usual.
The apartment always felt that way, when Archie wasn't there.
With a sigh, Jughead ventured closer to the window, sitting in the little nook that'd since been decorated with pillows and blankets that kept the cold of the wood from seeping into his skin. It took months to settle down on an apartment. Jughead wouldn't even look at one that didn't contain anything resembling the window seat that comforted him in his own bedroom. Archie was more obsessed with practical adult things, like parking spaces, heating, amenities, you know, all the boring stuff.
This one was pricier than they'd planned, and further away from family than they planned, but when they stumbled across the little complex, with its towering arches, brick paths, and light green exterior, they knew it was perfect. Cozy, inside and out. The kitchen was small, but all of the appliances were up to date, and a little wrap around bar with plenty of seating separated it from the living room, which was warm with orange walls and a squeaky couch they'd thrifted with throws. Books laid across their coffee table, along with scribbled lists and cups Jughead never put away. The shelves that lined the wall by the electric fireplace were overflowing with books, and the sink was overflowing with dishes.
It was always that way, when Archie wasn't there.
His phone rang a happy tune, and Jughead scrambled out of his nook for it, running up to his desk to take the call. Archie's face popped up on the screen, his somber expression turning into a guilty smile as he laid eyes on his boyfriend.
"If you are not calling with good news, I do not want to hear anything you have to say," Jughead spit out as he held the phone with two hands, shaking despite himself.
Archie looked down, shoulders slumped, giving him his answer.
"I told you not to go to that party," Jughead huffed, and even though he wanted to be mad, the whine in his voice gave away all of his worry and disappointment.
"I feel fine. The two weeks are almost up, and I don't have symptoms. The test will be back tomorrow, okay? And it'll be negative, and I can come home," Archie reassured him. "Just because she tested positive doesn't mean I will. I wasn't even with her."
Jughead didn't bother to hide it anymore as he sulked back to the window and pouted at his screen. "I want you to be okay, and I miss you."
"I miss you too," Archie sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair.
"You should come home anyway, even if you test positive. We can be sick together. It will be fun," Jughead suggested, perking up a little at the thought. "We can take care of each other."
"I'm not giving you COVID, Juggy."
"But I cannot do two more weeks being apart," he whined again, tilting his head back in frustration. "And New Years Eve is tomorrow, we are always together on New Years Eve."
"I know."
"And Sabrina's flight is laid over in New York because a passenger tested positive...," he went on, his voice growing more shallow.
"I know babe," Archie said softly.
"Dave is not handling it well, and every time Jay calls me he looks so empty inside without basketball taking up his time."
"The world's fucked right now."
With a sigh, Jughead looked back at Archie and nodded his head. "Massively fucked." And after a minute, his eyebrows furrowing again, he couldn't help himself. "You should not have gone to that party."
"Okay, okay," Archie said defeatedly, looking down. "I just thought things were getting better."
"While cases were spiking?"
"Well you've been busy and I was bored," he admitted, bringing his hand to the back of his neck. "I need constant attention and affection, so really this was on you for not physically pinning me down and stopping me from walking out of the door."
Jughead grit his teeth. "I did try that, and you lectured me about how I was being paranoid and clingy, as if we have any other choice but to spend all of our time together in quarantine."
Archie chuckled, somehow washing Jughead's irritation away. "Well, I definitely got that space, didn't I?"
"It is not even funny," he grumbled back, but it was just as light as Archie's tone.
The redhead shifted a bit, placing his phone down and leaning back in his makeshift bed. The nearest quarantine site was two hours away from their apartment, which was on the outskirts of Seattle. He didn't have anywhere else to go, so a cot, a few pillows, wifi, and three meals a day was the best he could ask for right now.
"I'd give anything to be in bed with you right now," Archie hummed, letting his eyes flicker over him. "You look warm. And soft."
Jughead looked down at his sweater. It was too big, something he inherited from Dave who finally committed to working out and gained a new wardrobe. The fabric was thick and swallowed him whole, a collage of deep browns and reds that screamed of fall against the winter snow. No matter how much he pulled the sweater up or down, it managed to expose a sliver of skin on his shoulder, but it was soft and smelled of home.
"And you look tired," he noted. "Exhausted, actually. Pale too."
Archie rolled his eyes. "I'm feeling fine."
"You do not look fine."
"Since when don't you think I'm fine?" Archie teased, but Jughead was too worried to even pretend to laugh.
"I just—"
"I know," he said with another gentle smile. "But you need to stop worrying. I'm fine. Sabrina's fine. Dave and Jay will live. Mike is just happy he has an excuse to play video games and talk to his friends all day, and Carrie is too young to really get it. Everyone's okay."
"But New Years—"
"Will be different," he finished for him, shrugging.
Jughead rolled his eyes. He'd never get used to how Archie could read right through him. "If you leave me alone on New Year's, I will never speak to you again."
"Oh c'mon, that's a stretch!"
"Well maybe if you had not gone to that party..."
"Jughead, oh my gosh," Archie groaned, laughter shining through it.
Video calls weren't the same. If only Archie could light up their home again, instead of his phone screen. They talked for a bit more, the impending night sky cancelling out the light of the snow until his office darkened and all that remained visible were shadows, and solemn green eyes.
"Hey Archie?" He whispered, as if he'd disturb his empty home.
"Hmm?"
"Do you think things will ever get better?"
"Of course I do," he responded without hesitation. "You're living proof."
"I am serious."
Archie sat up. "I'm serious too. I know right now everything seems so uncertain and dark, but you've been here before haven't you? And now look at where you are."
When Jughead didn't answer, Archie grabbed his phone, offering a closer view of his genuine eyes. "I think things will get better, especially when I have you."
"That was cheesy."
"I'm serious."
After a few seconds, and some shuffling, Jughead finally crawled out of his nook and ventured over toward the light switch, illuminating the office and revealing his makeshift studio where he filmed and edited all of his YouTube videos.
He looked back at Archie again, a smile playing at his lips as he nodded. "I will choose to believe that. For now."
"Glad to hear it," Archie snorted. "I'll let you go though. Try to get some rest, okay? Don't stay up worrying."
But Jughead worried anyway. He worried as he munched on his lucky charms, and worried as he brushed his teeth. He worried as he changed clothes, exchanging Dave's sweater for one of Archie's. He worried as he crawled into bed, silk sheets sending a shiver down his spine even though the heat was on blast. He worried as he hugged Archie's pillow close to his chest and he worried when the clock turned 12. He only stopped worrying to dream, and when he dreamed he saw crooked lines and question marks. He saw red signs and fear.
The morning wasn't any easier. The first thing be did was grab at his phone and text Archie about the test results, even though it was only 8am. Then he checked the case numbers in Washington, and scrolled through articles urging safe New Year's Eve plans. Except, instead of the usual tips about designated drivers and ubers, the bullet points warned against gatherings and reminded about masks.
He tried to edit the same channel video he'd been trying to edit for the last two weeks now, a review for a horror book that dulled in comparison to the horrors of real life, but failed. Again. By noon, the calls and texts rolled in. Veronica was still working at Starbucks, wishing him a happy new year with a picture of their favorite secret menu item, a drink they made up that consisted mostly of marshmallows and caramel. He'd left the job a few months ago. The commute got kind of crazy, and as his online popularity skyrocketed, holding a job had become more of a nuisance.
His family called him too, Carrie starting a zoom call in her Elsa dress, the pretty silver one from the second movie. Bachata was playing in the background, along with the sound of something sizzling in cast iron. He smiled at the thought of Dave cooking New Year's dinner, and frowned at the reality of missing out, missing out on table resolutions and the talk of Spanish as Dave and Sabrina twirled each other around the kitchen. There was sadness in Jay's eyes, who he missed the most, as he talked about how down Dave was about Sabrina in quiet whispers so Carrie couldn't hear. Mike popped in, distant as always, but they shared sad smiles in solidarity.
Everything was different.
And there was no text from Archie.
His birth family called next, FP and Gladys oblivious to all of the worry in Jughead's mind as they talked about their plans to sip champagne as the ball dropped, and how hopeful they were for the future. Jelly Bean popped in, talking about how her parents were driving her crazy since they both worked from home, but all Jughead could do was nod along with a straight face, wishing he could be with his own family right now.
A book was able to distract him until 7, but not without periodic phone checks and dozens of worried texts begging for answers. It wasn't like Archie to ignore him.
It started to snow around 8, so he let himself become entranced by glitter and delicacy, watching snowflakes dance without a care in the world, blissfully unaware of tests and stress and distance.
By 9, he settled in front of the living room TV and wrapped himself in one of their many blankets, Archie's favorite one. It was Christmas themed, with little Christmas trees and snowflakes dotting the red plush.
Fatigue found him. Sleep was easy these days, naps overtaking his boredom in a blink of an eye, like painless time travel. They were never refreshing though, and somehow added to his exhaustion. Nothing was real.
As he stretched out on the couch and blinked the sleep out of his eyes, the tv rambled on about the New Year, ready to put 2020 in the past. The man on the tv pretended to be excited as the countdown clock in the corner reminded the world that hope was only an hour away. With a sigh, Jughead went to check his phone. Nothing. No answer. Thirteen texts, and radio silence.
Deciding to call, he waited as the phone rang, and rang and rang, until the condescending voicemail lady demanded he left a message.
"Archie," he huffed, desperate and weak. "I was just kidding before. I will not stop talking to you if you test positive. If that is what you are afraid to tell me, it is okay. I am more worried about you. I would rather be two more weeks apart than not have you here with me at all. And yeah, you are perfectly healthy so you will probably recover quickly, but I just cannot help but think the worst." He paused, taking a deep breath. "I love you. Call me back."
He dropped the phone down on the couch and rested his head in his hands, wondering if the rest of the world was living in the same daze, if they saw a point in celebrating a new year, if they were wearing smiled as bright as this white-toothed reporter.
I think things will get better, especially when I have you.
"Tough talk for someone who cannot even respond to my texts," he mumbled to himself, letting the colors of the tv flash across his eyes. He stayed like that for a while, and as the minutes slowly ticked down, the realization set in.
He was alone on New Years Eve.
Just like old times.
He willed himself to snap out of his trance, and grabbed his phone again. While his thumb hovered over Archie's name, he restrained himself and logged into Twitter instead. Aiming to be honest and blunt as usual, something his fans loved about him, he composed a new tweet.
Trying to convince myself to believe all of the bs mantras about hope and new beginnings for 2021. Hope you are all doing a better job at it than me.
Just as he was about to submit, a key slid into the lock, and the rustle of the front door made him drop his phone in shock. His feet ran for him, meeting a body just at it stepped through the front door.
Archie. Archie was home for New Year's Eve. Archie, negative testing Archie, COVID free Archie, Archie with flushed cheeks from the cold air, his signature red mask, and a jacket dusted in snow.
Jughead tackled him, sending them both to the ground, bodies halfway into the hallway, door wide open.
"You're here!" He yelled, words slurred in excitement, unable to come out fast enough.
Archie laughed against him, pulling down his mask and looking up at a familiar pair of twinkling eyes. "I'm here."
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Mind the typos/mistakes. I'm rusty. Hope you enjoyed :)