Never-Ending Beginning | Jughead Jones | Riverdale

[hsos]

 

Okay. Here's some self-indulgent Jughead. In Part Two, expect some more vulnerable sick pic stuff. Yay.

 

—

Jughead knew he was getting sick. He always could tell. It was the same every time, without fail. From the familiar ache just behind his eyes and the slightly raspy tone that his voice would take on as if it had been overused, Jughead had been displaying all the signs since the day before. But this morning when he awoke, things had obviously accelerated.

 

The school closet wasn’t exactly the most comfortable of homes, but it was a bed. He didn’t complain. Today, though, he was starting to long for any sort of warmth, a warmth painfully unobtainable given his circumstances. 

 

Noticing the intense pressure in his sinuses, he decided to set off for the showers, hoping the steam would do him some good. Turning the faucet to full heat, Jughead breathed deeply only to find that his nose was almost impossibly stuffed up. Congestion had always been his least favorite part about being sick. He wasn’t sick that often so it seemed the universe thought to balance it out by giving him hell every time. Every. Single. Time.

 

He grabbed a roll of toilet paper and pressed the rough material to his nose. The texture rubbed his fragile skin in just the right, or more fittingly, wrong, way to spark a match somewhere deep within his sinuses. Unfortunately for him, they seemed to be already coated in gasoline, and within seconds, he found himself gasping for breath.

 

His nose felt as if it had suddenly developed an intense allergy to every smell in the entire multiverse. The release, surely inevitable, lay just out of reach, leaving his nostrils quivering in anticipation, in yearning. 

 

His infamously long buildups were the results of years of staving of sneezes when he was sick as a kid. Dealing with his father’s drunken yells to quiet down always seemed like a worse fate than the torturous limbo he was facing now. The habit was something he could never quite kick once he’d become accustomed to it.

 

He began to rub up and down the bridge of his nose with the coarse cloth, searching desperately for some kind of relief. The tickle only intensified and his breathing sped up. Jughead felt the all too familiar sensation of tears forming at the corner of his eyes. He changed his mind. This was the worse part about being sick.

 

He dragged the toilet paper lightly under his nose, just enough to graze his nostrils, with astonishing speed. He did it in a way that exhibited obvious experience. After what felt like hundreds of repetitions, the itch seemed to finally reach a peak, and he prepared himself for the following explosions. Once the gates had been opened, they were always difficult to close.

 

“HEH Heh-tshhh! Hgnshh! Heh heh HA—“

 

He brought his fist to his nose. The first bells had just rung.

—

TBC?

Please leave any feedback/tips. Glad I could contribute some much needed Jughead on the forum.

 

 

[hsos]

I wrote this in a different programming, which I'm now realizing was a mistake. Sorry for the strange formatting.

[queenie]

I see a question mark after that TBC, but I shouldn't! You definitely should continue. 

[flailingartist]

Moved and seconded! This fic is off to a lovely start and I hope I'll get to read more!

[Seeker]

More please!

[beau34]

LOVE IT!!!

[Shikee12.haley]

Please do more we wouldn't want this cliffhanger go to waste

[Jelloicious]

This is really well done!  You get a real feel for the character.  Your descriptions are amazing!  Please continue!

 

[Seeker]

So, just reread this...I would really like to see that part two sick pic but any part two would be awesome. This is so good! I looove that he needs to tease his sneeze out...I'm begging you for more here