Archive of Our Own

The first time Archie got in trouble for...well, that's not true. The first time it happened, his dad said he wasn't in trouble. The first time it happened, his dad said it wasn't his fault because he didn't know any better.

It was in seventh grade, in gym class. Reggie was taunting him, he remembers that, though he doesn't remember now what it was about. He's pretty sure Reggie shoved him first. At least, he remembers telling the principal that when they both got hauled into the office. What he does remember vividly is this fury that made him tackle Reggie. Like, he doesn't remember deciding to do it, he just remembers doing it. He remembers the heat and the solidity of the other boy as they wrestled on the warm, damp grass; he remembers the overpowering smell of sweat. He remembers how important it felt to be on top. And then when he was on top, when Reggie was pinned and couldn't move...Archie found his hips moving, found himself frantically rubbing his dick against Reggie's hip, like how he did sometimes at night against his mattress, only it felt so much better, and somehow really important, like this was going to teach Reggie not to fuck with him again. And then he came on Reggie—he didn't even know the term yet, to come, he just knew that it was the best feeling in the world but that it wasn't allowed, especially in broad daylight, especially in front of everyone—and he absolutely drenched his own pants as well as Reggie's.

His dad had to come pick him up from the principal's office. And he wasn't even mad, really. He said, "I should have realized when I noticed you changing your sheets without needing to be told." And Archie asked what he should have realized, but his dad said he wanted to take him to the doctor, "just for a check-up," to make sure.

The doctor said he was presenting as an alpha. That wasn't unusual; Archie had heard of it, even though he didn't know at the time what it meant exactly. The doctor also said he was presenting a bit younger than usual, but nothing unheard of. What was really unusual was the size of Archie's penis, especially for his age. And if the reported amount of ejaculate wasn't exaggerated—Archie's dad said it wasn't—then there could be difficulties with knotting.

Archie didn't really understand everything the doctor said, but his dad explained it to him later, starting with what ejaculate and knotting meant. His dad ended up telling him lots of stuff before eighth grade started. He learned what being an alpha meant and that Reggie was probably an alpha too and that's why the two of them felt like fighting each other so much. What Archie did when he won—it turned out that was a really typical (though frowned-upon) conclusion to an alpha-tussle. He learned that some of the kids he knew would eventually present as omegas. He would have to be really, really careful around omegas. Because if an alpha and an omega are around each other when the omega is in heat, it's way harder to resist mating with the omega than it is to resist fighting another alpha. But, and this was the important part that his dad told him over and over, he had to resist mating with an omega. Because he was so big, and because he produced so much ejaculate, it was all but guaranteed that if he knotted inside someone, it would be really, really bad. It didn't mean he could never have sex, his dad reassured him. He should wait until he was older, and he would still have to be careful because of his size, but the world is full of perfectly nice betas who don't go into heat and therefore don't trigger knotting.

Jughead spots Joaquin before the others do, strolling through the cafeteria, baby bump now visible. If he weren't glaring so hard, the others might not even notice. But he is, and they do.

Kevin looks away, feigning indifference. "You know he never even told me he was an omega? Much less who...Not that I care who it was."

"Did you guys get a look at the new girl?" Betty asks before Kevin can change his mind about whether he cares or not. She knows that Jughead does not want to talk about who knocked up Joaquin.

Archie reaches over and squeezes Jughead's shoulder. He's impressed, really, that Jughead's not doing anything other than glaring. Last week when Archie was at the trailer helping Jughead pack up his things, he was so pissed. And Archie couldn't blame him really, even though it wasn't Joaquin's fault. FP, that's whose fault it was. Of course, Jughead was pissed at FP too.

"You don't have to move out," FP told him. "You're just going to have to get used to it being more crowded when Joaquin moves in. And of course when the baby is born..."

"Jesus, Dad! Why couldn't you just keep it in your pants?"

Jughead stormed out. Archie could only assume he'd be back soon—he hadn't taken any of his stuff—so he stayed and kept packing. "I wouldn't expect him to understand," FP said to Archie when they were alone.

"Why couldn't you keep it in your pants?" Archie asked him.

"Yeah, that's right. Everyone always blames the alpha."

"No, I really want to know. I've never been around an omega in heat before, and I've never really talked to an alpha who's mated with an omega, so..."

FP chuckled. "That's right, both your parents are betas, aren't they? You should have come to me for advice a long time ago, kid."

"So what's it like?" Archie asked. He felt so disloyal to Jughead, but he told himself he wasn't really taking FP's side or anything. He was just curious.

"It's like...Well, first of all, they smell so fucking good. I can't describe what they smell like exactly, but imagine the smell of your favorite food, and it's everywhere, only instead of making you hungry it makes you so horny, hornier than you've ever been. Your dick gets so hard it actually hurts. And then Joaquin...or whoever...he wants it as bad as you do. He's practically crying, and he says, 'Take care of me, Daddy, please'—"

"Joaquin calls you Daddy?"

FP throws one of Jughead's jackets at Archie, hitting him in the face with it. "The omega, whoever it might be, might beg you for it, and he or she might say some crazy shit in the heat of the moment that is no one else's business."

"Right. Sorry. Go on."

"That's about it."

"No, but I mean, when you actually knot..."

"Oh, Jesus, kid. That's just..." FP's face gets this faraway, dreamy look. "You know how...Wait, have you fucked anyone regular?"

"A couple times," Archie said. "Not as often as I'd like." Any time he'd gotten anywhere close with anyone his own age, his giant cock had scared them off. But he'd had a couple experiences with adult betas.

"And it was pretty great, right?"

"So great."

"Well, it's like that, but a thousand times better. You don't just come once and it's over in a few seconds. You come for maybe an hour nonstop."

"Yeah, but is it really"...Archie already knew, of course, about how couples get locked together while the alpha ejaculates continuously. But what he wanted to know was whether it was really as intense as that moment of regular orgasm for the whole time. Was that even possible? Because if it was...holy shit! But he didn't get to ask, because he heard Jughead opening the front door again.

Archie is brought back to the present with a crumpled up sheet of paper hitting him in the face and Betty asking, "You got that, Archibald?"

"Huh? Got what?"

"Stay away from Veronica."

"Who's Veronica?"

Betty gets up and stalks around the table so she's standing above him. Leaning down to put her face right in front of his, she tells him clearly and calmly, "If you make a move on Veronica I will end you."

Archie would probably fight any other alpha who talked to him in that tone, regardless of the fact that he doesn't know or care who this Veronica is. But it's Betty, and he hasn't fought Betty in ages, in part because she's one of his best friends, and in part because the last time he fought her she kicked his ass. She's the only one who ever has. Still, he can't just let it go without comment. "Relax, Betts," he says. "You know my dick is too big for high school girls anyway. She's all yours."

Betty stands there, staring him down, looking like she's just itching to fight him. Betty's usually about the most level-headed alpha around, so she must really have it bad for this Veronica girl to be acting like this. Archie wonders if Veronica is an omega. If so he'll really have to stay away from her, not just for the usual reasons but so Betty doesn't actually kill him. "I mean it," he says, more conciliatory than he was a second ago. "She's all yours."

Betty straightens up, mutters a terse "Thank you," and marches off. Kevin excuses himself and follows her. Jughead rolls his eyes and says, "I don't know why I even hang out with alphas. You're so dramatic."

Archie shrugs. "You hang out with Betty because I hang out with Betty. And you hang out with me because you love me."

He gets hit in the face with a second crumpled-up sheet of paper.

Jughead slept fitfully. He'd say that he didn't sleep at all, except Archie is waking him now. He hurts all over, and he mumbles, "You better not be waking me up to ask to go running with you."

"I already went," Archie says. "Are you feeling okay? You don't look so good, and you feel hot."

"I feel like crap."

"You want some aspirin?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

Archie covers him up with the blankets before he goes, and Jughead immediately throws them off again. He must be running a fever, he guesses. Usually he's freezing on the air mattress six inches off the floor. He dozes for a couple minutes before Archie is back, sitting on the floor next to him. Archie hands him two aspirin and a glass of water and says, "I got your dad to call the school and tell them you're sick. Just stay here and sleep, okay, bud?"

Jughead sits up just enough to swallow the aspirin and drain the water in a few gulps, then collapses back on the mattress. He's still thirsty, but he doesn't want to ask Archie to get him more. For some reason he doesn't want Archie to leave the room again, even for a minute. He grabs Archie's wrist and asks, "Stay with me?"

"Are you drunk?" Archie asks. "You usually only act clingy if you've been drinking."

Jughead actually has to think about it. He does feel kind of drunk, now that Archie mentions it. The room is spinning a bit. But even with his brain being all fuzzy, he's pretty sure he'd remember if he'd been drinking. He's pretty sure it's a stupid question, in fact. "Don't you think you would have noticed me drinking?"

"Should I call my dad to take you to the doctor, do you think?"

"There you go being dramatic again. Just stay with me, Arch." He tightens his grip on Archie's wrist as much as he can...which isn't actually much. He's actually feeling pretty weak.

Archie doesn't answer right away. It's like he really has to think about it or something. Jughead's seriously starting to wonder if he should beg when Archie says, "Okay. I'm right here."

"Thanks, Arch," Jughead says. "But I mean...with me?" He pats an empty spot on the mattress, which kind of takes all his strength.

"I guess I'm probably going to catch whatever you have anyway," Archie says. He kicks his shoes off and stretches out alongside Jughead on the mattress. "Isn't it too hot for you like this?" he asks. "And damp? The sheets are all sweaty."

"It's miserable," Jughead agrees. "But you're sweaty too. Just take off your clothes and you won't be too hot." So Archie takes off everything but his underwear, and then without really asking he helps Jughead out of everything but his. He turns on the overhead fan and gets back in bed.

Jughead tosses and turns for a long time. Every time Archie scoots away from him, Jughead scoots closer. It's too hot even with the fan blowing directly on his sweaty skin, but he craves the closeness. Eventually Archie has nowhere else to scoot, and Jughead manages to drift off.

He wakes up drenched in sweat, way more than earlier, and now it's making him cold. He guesses that means his fever broke. He doesn't feel weak or achy anymore, but he does feel drunker than ever.

And fucking horny.

He doesn't get horny a lot normally; in fact, he's not sure at first that that's what it is. But what else would you call the overwhelming desire to have Archie...inside him...right fucking now?

"Archie," he says. "Archie! Wake up!"

Archie doesn't wake up right away. Jughead climbs on top of him, straddles him and sits right on top of his dick. God, it feels good. It's so huge. Jughead's always known about Archie's big dick, but he's never especially cared before. He's never actually seen it, and he's certainly never felt it gradually stiffen against his ass.

Archie sniffs at the air. His eyes shoot open and he takes another breath, much deeper. He moans, and his dick goes fully hard, not gradually anymore. "Jesus," he moans. Then, looking at Jughead with something like panic, he says, "Jesus, Jughead. I think you're in heat."

"I'm...? But...fuck."

Of course. Of course, yes, that would explain it. Jughead just always assumed he was a beta, possibly an asexual one at that. But the only way to explain how he feels now is that he's a late-presenting omega and he's in heat. He feels like he's more than making up for never having shown any early signs.

Archie arches up against him. "God, Jug, don't say fuck."

"Why not? Come on, I want you to."

"I should...I should call my dad. He'll know how to take care of you."

"Archie." Jughead swoons from a sudden head rush and falls forward onto Archie's chest. Archie's neck smells amazing. Jughead thinks that's probably what's got him literally intoxicated. He inhales deeply, and he can't quite help himself from licking. He could just keep licking, but he has to talk some sense into Archie. "If I'm in heat, then your dad can't take care of me. You can."

"I'd like to, Jug," Archie says, and he pauses to moan as Jughead switches from licking to nibbling. "But, well, you know about my...problem."

"Problem, my ass," Jughead says. Archie's humongous cock is pretty much the exact opposite of a problem, as far as Jughead is concerned. But he's (just barely) clear-headed enough to know that Archie's only trying to protect him, so he decides to try reverse psychology. "I think you're just conceited. It couldn't possibly be that big."

"No, really. The doctor said so and everything."

"He said it was big when you were thirteen. It's probably just slightly above average for an almost-seventeen-year old."

Archie hesitates. And, more importantly, he grinds against Jughead's ass. Jughead thinks he might actually just give in, but he says, "I think it's big for anyone. I'm really sorry."

"See, now I know you're exaggerating," Jughead claims, even as he's rocking back and forth on it and has a pretty good idea how little Archie is exaggerating. "At least let me see the supposed behemoth so I can judge for myself."

"Um. Okay. You have to get off me first."

Jughead scoots down onto Archie's thighs, immediately missing the feel of the giant dick pressing against his ass. But then he pulls down Archie's boxer briefs, and the impressive sight almost makes up for the temporary loss of contact. "Archie, it's so...Fuck, Archie, it's massive."

"I'm sorry, Jug."

"Sorry? It's fucking perfect. I want it so ba-...I need it, Archie, please!"

"But, Jug..."

Jughead can't stand the thought of continuing to argue while Archie's gorgeous, perfect cock just sits there uselessly, and he lunges forward and takes it in his mouth—as much of it as he can fit it in his mouth, anyway, which is just a tiny fraction of the whole. It tastes so fucking good, god, he wishes he could get all of it in his mouth. As it is he has to stretch his lips so wide they crack just to fit the tip in. He sucks the best he can, even though he knows it isn't enough, and even though his mouth still isn't where he actually wants it.

He feels Archie's hands tighten in his hair, hears Archie start to whine. "Yeah, Jug, just like that...God..." Jughead has a moment of excitement, thinking he could make Archie come like this, thinking about how amazing Archie's cum would taste and feel in his mouth. And then he has a moment of clarity: If Archie comes now, he won't need to fuck him. Jughead forces himself to take his mouth off Archie's dick and sit up straight. Archie gives him this shocked, heartbroken look. "What...? Why'd you...? Oh god, was I hurting you?"

"No!" Jughead insists quickly. It did hurt a little, but he doesn't care about that at all. "No, it's just...I'm the one in need here." He grinds his ass against Archie's thigh, which gives him basically no relief at all. "I'm all, like, itchy inside." And Jughead's not sure if saying that made it true, or if it's always been like an itch and putting it into words just made him aware of it, but, yeah, that's exactly what it's like. "It itches so bad, Archie, and I need you to scratch it for me."

"Huh?"

"I need your dick to scratch the itch inside my ass!"

"No, but I can just..." Archie tugs at the waistband of Jughead's boxers; Jughead tears them off himself and sprawls face-down on the air mattress, spreading his legs as wide as he can. Finally. Except Archie still doesn't fuck him; he just slides a couple fingers inside.

It feels good—really good—but not nearly good enough. "Archie, what are you...?"

"I'm trying to scratch it for you. Jesus, Jug, you're so slick inside."

"Slick for your dick, Archie, come on. It'll just glide right in."

But Archie just keeps twisting his fingers around inside. Jughead can't help but moan at the feeling, even though it's not really helping, even though it's really just making the itch worse.

"Jug, I can't stand it! The smell is coming straight from your...And I just wanna..."

"Yeah! Do it, Archie, fuck me!"

Archie still doesn't fuck him, though. He stretches his asshole wide, holds it open with his fingers, and then plunges in with his tongue. Soon it's not completely true to say Archie isn't fucking him; he's just not fucking him with his dick. It's still not really enough—Jughead still desperately wants Archie's cock and his cum—but it's enough to make him gasp and moan and rut against the air mattress.

It's enough, after a few minutes, to make him shout out Archie's name and come on the sheets.

Archie stops tongue- and fingerfucking him. He licks and kisses up Jughead's back, with a little nip now and then like he can't help himself. "Better now?" he asks.

"For a couple minutes, I guess," he says. The itch is still there, after all. "But you're not better. I can feel you trembling."

"I just need to go jerk off or something," Archie says.

"What, seriously? Fine, if that's what you want. I guess I'll have to get someone else to fuck me." Jughead sits up on his knees but refuses to look at Archie.

Even though they're not touching anymore, Jughead can feel Archie tense before he asks, "Someone like who?"

"I dunno. Betty maybe..." Jughead hesitates before deciding to go for broke. "Except she wants to get with that new girl, so I guess Reggie."

"Reggie? Don't even joke, Juggie, that guy is such a douche."

"Hey, you're my first choice. I asked...I fucking begged, but I can't force you if you don't want me."

"I never said I didn't—"

"I hear Reggie has a nice big dick. And I bet he'll be a good daddy. He'll enjoy letting everyone know he's a daddy, anyway."

Archie turns Jughead and glares at him with furious eyes. Jughead would be terrified if it didn't turn him on so much. "You are not mating with Reggie," he says with forced calm. "I forbid it."

"You don't get a say in the matter, Arch. Since you don't want me for yourself."

"I fucking want you, Juggie! It's just..."

"Prove it. If you want me so bad, then fucking take me."

Archie squeezes Jughead's shoulder. "He won't take care of you and the baby like he should."

"You're the one letting it happen. You're the one who'd rather let Reggie knock up your best friend than—" Jughead is pushed onto his hands and knees before he can finish his sentence. Archie pushes his legs apart as wide as they'll go, and Jughead grips the air mattress tight to brace himself.

Although Jughead's been desperate for what feels like hours for Archie to finally fuck him, the moment of penetration feels weirdly sudden, and he cries out.

"Fuck," Archie gasps. "Fuck, don't ask me to stop now, Jug. I don't even have the head in yet and you feel so fucking good."

"Fuck, no, don't stop." Jughead isn't nearly filled yet, which is all he wants. "It's just the stretch..."

Archie continues to push in, so slowly, and Jughead doesn't know if it's because he's using tons of restraint to be careful or if he just can't physically get it in any faster. Anyway he's not really thinking about the reason. He's not thinking about anything, really; he's just feeling—feeling his muscles stretch and burn as he gradually gets stuffed with the thing he wants most in the whole world. He's not thinking about how he never knew he wanted it until this very morning; it feels like it's what he's been waiting for his entire life, like he's had this itch his entire fucking life and someone's finally starting to scratch it. So what if it hurts? So what if Archie has to scratch him bloody? When the itch goes away it'll be totally worth it. Already it's the best thing he's ever felt, the stretching and the burning notwithstanding.

Deeper and deeper goes Archie's cock, so slowly, as Jughead's body gradually adjusts to accommodate it. And then the tip rubs against something way far inside, and Jughead experiences a jolt of the most intense pleasure ever. His vision whites out and his body convulses and his dick spurts out powerful blasts of cum.

Archie continues to plunge in ever deeper. "Keep that up and I'm gonna knot any second now," he says.

"Yeah, fuck," a slightly dazed Jughead says. "Want your cum."

Archie grabs Jughead's hips hard, hard enough there's no way they're not going to bruise. He pulls out a bit, but before Jughead can complain, he's slamming back in, way harder and way faster than anything he's done so far. It should hurt, Jughead thinks vaguely, but it doesn't. Archie slams in again and again and again, and, miraculously, it still doesn't hurt.

What does hurt is Jughead's third orgasm. The pain's not as great as the pleasure, but it's there, and it brings tears to his eyes.

"You coming on my dick is the most amazing thing, Juggie," Archie says, voice full of wonder.

"Yeah," Jughead pants. "You know, maybe we should—"

"So fucking amazing!"

Archie continues pounding him relentlessly, and that spot where the pounding felt so good a minute ago is now super tender, and Jughead just needs a break, just for a few seconds even. "Arch, hang on..."

And he does, he...well, he doesn't stop, but he does slow down. Jughead's so relieved; he wasn't even sure Archie was listening to him. He tries to take a long, steadying breath, but it's cut short by this...this pressure that's getting worse instead of better, even though Archie is fucking him much slower now. And that's when he realizes: Archie is starting to knot. His dick is ballooning inside Jughead's ass, and the only reason Archie is fucking him slower is because it's impossible to keep doing it fast. Soon he won't be able to get it out at all. "Pull out, Archie, pull out!"

Archie just groans, hips still pumping, though apparently with some difficulty and not actually moving much.

"Archie!" Jughead kicks him as hard as he can.

It wasn't all that hard, but it's enough to get Archie to answer with a dazed: "Huh?"

"Archie, pull out!" He can feel his ass bruising internally. "Pull out, I wanna stop!"

"But..." Archie whines piteously. "But why? You're coming a bunch, you must like it!"

"Yeah, I know, but..." Even with his soreness, there's a big part of Jughead that likes it, even now. "But I mean just for a second. Just until—"

A deafening, animalistic cry pours out of Archie's mouth. He stops thrusting entirely, but Jughead's insides are still getting pummeled—now sheerly from the force of Archie's ejaculation.

Jughead manages to catch his breath. He starts to get used to the violence with which Archie's cum is being shot into him, and the sensation of being filled with it is satisfying on a deep level. Or at least...he feels like if he gets just a little more, it'll be satisfying on a deep level.

His fourth orgasm hits him suddenly and he screams, loud enough to drown out Archie's continuing grunts and groans. He feels like he produces very little ejaculate this time, just a small dribble, but it's not about that, it's about the way his alpha's ejaculate is flooding him with pleasure he can't even deal with. His knees tremble and his arms give out under him and he falls flat on the soaked sheets, yanking Archie by the dick to fall heavily on top of him.

"Fuck, Juggie!" Archie grips his forearms so hard it would probably hurt like hell if Jughead were more than only vaguely aware of sensation anywhere but inside his ass. Then he starts humping Jughead...or trying to, apparently, but his dick is still wedged in way too tight to move in or out. Instead he forces Jughead's body, limp with exhaustion, roughly back and forth across the mattress. Jughead's dick is extremely sensitive from all the orgasms, and having it dragged across the sticky, wet sheet just makes it feel rubbed raw. He doesn't have the strength to object, though; he just whimpers and takes it, trying to just hold on until Archie finishes.

If he ever does. He just keeps coming and coming.

Jughead gets used to it. Then he even starts to enjoy the sensation again. This leads to him coming again, which, while literally orgasmic, is also painful. Archie reacts to Jughead's orgasm by being even rougher with him. Archie's completely oblivious to everything but his own neverending orgasm.

When the cycle starts to repeat again...Well, when Jughead starts getting used to it again, it's a relief. But then he's filled with a sense of doom when it starts to feel good. Part of him tries to enjoy this part at least, but he can't, knowing what's about to happen. And when it does...he's completely out of ejaculate by this time, and when he comes it feels a lot like dry heaving. He starts to cry.

Archie shuts up finally and holds still. "Juggie, what...Oh, god, Juggie, I'm so sorry!"

"Pull out," Jughead begs between sobs.

Archie tries. He yanks his hips back, but his knot is too big still and it just feels like he's trying to yank out one of Jughead's own organs. Jughead yowls into the air mattress.

Unable to pull out, Archie strokes Jughead's hair and kisses the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, Juggie," he says. "It'll be over soon, I promise." But Jughead knows that Archie can't possibly know that.

In fact, he's pretty sure it'll never be over and he's going to die like this.

Archie continues to hold still except for his attempts to soothe Jughead, and it helps. Jughead's able to stop sobbing and just bite down on his pillow now and then instead. But then Archie lunges abruptly, and Jughead, terrified that he's going to start actively fucking him again, immediately starts bawling.

Except Archie's not trying to fuck him. He's just reached for his phone, which apparently rang without Jughead having noticed.

Archie puts the call on speaker; it's Fred: "Would you care to tell me why—Archie, are you crying?"

"It's Jughead, Dad!"

"Jughead? Is he hurt?"

"Yeah! Can you come home?"

"I'll be right there. You said you're at home?"

"In my room. Hurry, Dad!"

"I'm on my way!" The sound of Fred's truck starting up comes over the phone in a few seconds. "How bad is it? If he needs to go to the hospital you should call 911."

"No!" Jughead shouts. The thought of Fred seeing him like this is mortifying enough; he can't even contemplate having to explain the situation to EMTs.

"Archie, I'm going to hang up now. I won't be much use to you if I get in an accident because I was on my phone. But I want you to promise me you'll call 911 if Jughead needs it, even if he doesn't want you to."

"I promise."

Fred disconnects, and Jughead says, "Call him back and tell him I'm okay."

"What? Why?"

"I'm getting used to it." Jughead can't say this without his voice cracking. At the realization that his only two options are to keep going through the cycle or have Archie's dad see him like this, he starts sobbing again. He's still sobbing when he starts to come again for the...he's lost count of how many times it's been.

Archie moans very low during Jughead's orgasm and keeps his body rigid and holds Jughead's arms super tight. When it's over, when Jughead is too exhausted to do more than whimper, Archie asks him, "How can you come when you're crying?"

Though drained, Jughead is irritated enough by the question to snap at Archie: "You think I've done this lots of times before and I know all about how it works?"

"No, I just...It's weird. And, like, when you come it feels super good to me...like, all of it does, but especially when you're coming. But then I feel bad for feeling good because I know you're not."

"I guess it just sucks to be you, Archie."

"No, I didn't mean..."

"How rude of me, ruining your good time! You get to come continuously and experience zero pain, and when I have an orgasm yours gets extra good, but I'm bumming you out by not keeping my damn mouth shut when it hurts like hell!"

"Juggie!"

"You know what, Archie? Fuck you. Just pull out, I'm fucking done."

"But..."

"Get off me, get off me, get off me!" Jughead is shrieking now.

Archie tries to pull out. He tries to ease back slowly, and that does nothing. He tries to jerk back suddenly and just jerks Jughead back up onto his knees. Jughead screeches inconsolably. While he comes again.

This is how Fred finds them.

Fred looks down at the two naked boys, Archie on top of Jughead, Jughead screaming in pain, and it takes him exactly no time to figure out what's going on. "Goddammit, Archie!" he says. "What have I been telling you for years now!?"

"Dad! Help!"

"I take it you've already started knotting."

Jughead buries his face in the sheets, but Fred thinks he hears him say, "Please, Mr. Andrews."

Fred crouches next to the air mattress and pats Jughead on the shoulder. "How long has it been? Maybe Archie's knot has gone down enough that..."

"We just tried that," Jughead sniffles.

"Well, Archie, there's only one thing to do. Do you remember what the doctor told you?"

"He said I'm too big. But, Dad, it feels so good!"

Fred grabs Archie's chin and forces him to look him in the eye. As long as he can just look at the guys from the shoulders up, he can sort of pretend that his even being here isn't a thousand kinds of messed up. "I'm talking about when he told you how to end exactly this situation."

Archie gives him a completely blank look.

"Goddammit! If you had just paid attention you could have ended this without having to get me involved, which, let me tell you, I would have greatly preferred!"

Archie continues to give him that blank look.

Jughead starts sobbing so hard he's choking.

Fred tells himself there'll be plenty of time to bawl Archie out later. "You have to grab your balls and squeeze them really tight—really, really tight—and keep squeezing them until your knot goes down."

Archie recoils. "Won't that hurt?"

"I assume so."

"But..."

"Fucking do it, Archie!" Jughead yells.

Archie still looks hesitant. Normally Fred would sympathize, but poor Jughead sounds like he's dying. "Archie, either you're going to grab your balls, or I'm going to grab your balls. And I'm guessing you don't want your father grabbing your balls any more than I want to do it."

Archie takes a deep breath...closes his eyes...and grabs his balls with both hands. His face turns red and he doesn't breathe...until suddenly he's wailing loud enough that if Alice Cooper is home she's definitely calling the cops right now.

The screams coming out of Archie are so loud that it takes Jughead a few minutes to realize that he himself has stopped crying. And then he realizes that he's stopped because it doesn't hurt as bad anymore. It's working—Archie's knot is going down! Jughead rocks forward a little and doesn't pull Archie along with him! Without moving away too abruptly, he soon manages to get free.

Fred has to grab Archie by the shoulders and shake him to get his attention. Gesturing at Jughead, who's now safely across the room and trying to cover up with a blanket (as if Fred hadn't already seen way more than he ever wanted to!), Fred tells him, "You can let go, it's over."

Archie lets go of his balls and groans in relief. Then, aware that his dick, while less engorged, is still hard and still leaking cum—and, more importantly, is on full display to his dad—he grabs a sheet to cover up with. It's the heavily soiled sheet off Jughead's air mattress, but it does the job.

Gladys declined the invitation to the baby shower, writing on the response card, "I refuse to be in the same place as FP and his new child, and I don't mean the one in diapers."

But Mary is back for it, and before the gift-opening begins, she corners Fred to ask him how he let this happen. Not that she didn't want to be a grandmother some day, but...

Fred doesn't feel like he should have to defend himself. He's the one who was there, after all. But he finds himself explaining nonetheless. "When I invited Jughead to stay with us, the thought never even crossed my mind that he could be an omega. FP is an alpha, after all, and—"

"Yes, and Gladys is an omega."

Fred shrugs. "He didn't show any signs. I know now that omegas sometimes don't show signs until their first heat, but I didn't know it then. I had to learn so much about alphas that—"

"And it didn't occur to you that learning about omegas would be relevant?"

"And it didn't occur to you to get involved in any way whatsoever?"

Mary purses her lips. "I'm sorry. You had a lot on your plate raising Archie by yourself. Go on."

"So...luckily I got a call from the school notifying me that Archie was skipping. I called to yell at him and he told me, 'Jughead is hurt, come home!' I came home and found them...stuck together..."

Mary holds up a hand. "Spare me the details. Please."

"Yeah. So we got that taken care of, and I told Jug to hop in the shower and wash off as much as he could and then I'd take him to the pharmacy for a morning-after pill. Good lord, you should have heard both of them screaming over that plan. How could I even suggest such a thing? Archie ran over to Jughead and held him tight and said he'd let me make him to 'get rid of the baby' over his dead body. And they were this close to starting to make out right in front of me—still both naked, by the way, if you don't count the blankets—and God only knew what that would lead to, again. So to calm them down I said I wouldn't make them get rid of the baby, but I did need to get Jughead out of the house before anything 'happened' again. They were both really reluctant to let me do that, even. Jughead did get dressed, though, and I drove him to FP's and waited there with him until FP got home. I was going to try again in the morning with the pharmacy idea, but...Oh, hey there, Betty!"

"Mr. Andrews, is there any more ginger ale?"

"FP brought some, but I don't know where he put it."

"Thanks."

As soon as Betty has left, Mary prompts, "You were going to try again with the pharmacy idea, but..."

Fred touches his forehead and shakes his head, debating whether to even tell her. Well, why should he be the only one of Archie's parents who has to know about it? "But Jughead snuck over in the middle of the night. I had to intervene again."

Mary's mouth drops open and she covers it with both hands.

"So...well, I guess I thought that at least Jughead wouldn't have any more heats while he's pregnant. And after he's given birth, things should be a little easier, if you know what I mean. And I have always wanted grandchildren some day, so..."

"And if you'd suggested the pharmacy idea again Archie probably would have fought you."

"There's that too," Fred admits.

Joaquin approaches them with his little girl in his arms. "Mr. Andrews, I have to help Betty with something. Would you mind taking Pendleton for a minute?"

"No, of course not," Fred says, holding his arms out. "Come here, sweetheart!"

Mary coos over the baby. As soon as Joaquin is gone, she asks, "How many children is FP going to name after himself?"

"I don't know," Fred says. "Depends on how many more he has, I guess."

"Please," Mary says, and she takes one of Fred's hands in both of hers to show she's being earnest. "Please don't let Archie and Jughead name my grandchild Forsythe the Fourth."

"How about Fourthsythe?" Fred asks with a smirk.

Mary whacks him on the shoulder.