A/N: Hello, hi. This is basically just an excuse to write porn but there is some plot to it.

For this, Alice's serpent tattoo is on her hip FP's is smack in the middle of his chest (per Skeet at Rivercon). Also, making Skeet's scar in the middle of his chest FP's. I always imagine FP's tattoo to be rather large and it's my fic so we're rolling with that.

Title from When You Break by Bear's Den.

It's his day off.

Not that it feels like it with everything going on but at least he doesn't need to put on that damn uniform that definitely makes him look the town idiot. But he's serious about making sure that things get better and if working at Pop's is going to make that happen he's all for it.

If he could stop getting rid of bodies that would be even better.

He's not entirely sure if the mess with Alice and the kids is actually going away properly. They found the car and the owner got the car back. The body should be gone by now, leaving only teeth behind. He got rid of his clothes from that night and washed his Serpent jacket ten times over to make it sure it didn't smell like anything questionable.

The last thing he wants is to go down for this.

That morning as Jughead rushed out the door he filled him in about what happened at Alice's house with Chic and Darla, mentioned a few of the younger Serpents there to help out. Even managed to squeeze in Alice's very broken door and her genuine thanking of him.

F.P. resists the urge to ask if he even checked if the door was unlocked. Not that he got to ask many questions at all as Jughead rushed out the door mumbling something about wanting to have time to see Betty before school.

That left him there, thinking .

If the worst thing to happen is Alice is out of ten grand...well, the Coopers can definitely afford it.

Part of him wants to call Alice and actually make sure she is okay even if it definitely is a bad idea. A lot of things are a bad idea where Alice Cooper is concerned and yet, he's always right there. As if there's still that fucking gravitational pull towards her that got him into trouble when he was no older than his son. That ended in heartbreak and he likes to think he knows better now.

He doesn't. Not really.

It's more than just Serpent loyalty and he knows it.

A twinge of guilt finds him as he thinks about Alice but not his actual wife . The wife who left him but the circumstances around that were complicated. Putting it lightly. He even thinks about actually calling Gladys and talking to her. All of his updates about her come from Jughead and he's talked to his daughter. Just not his wife. As if they are a divorced couple who can't stand to talk to one another, even for the sake of the kids.

It's his fault.

There's definitely something to be said about the fact that he keeps swinging between the two of them. That whenever he thinks of Alice he thinks of Gladys and whenever he thinks of Gladys he thinks of Alice.

He decides against calling either of them.

It's better that way.

Fate has another idea in mind when there's a knock at the door. He's never expecting anyone and he thinks the knock would be far more frantic if it is Serpent business gone south.

When he opens the door to reveal Alice on the other side, his blank expression turning into a smirk all too easily, eyes falling to take in that appearance of hers. He notices just how much she's unbuttoned that snakeskin print shirt of hers and how good her tits look, the red of her lips, and darker eye makeup that makes him think of when he saw her in the Whyte Wyrm.

She looked hot that night, too.

He doesn't say anything but rather, he moves to the side so she can walk in, noticing just which way she turns. He gets rid of the gum all too easily because really, he doesn't need it anymore. Not when she's looking like that and reminding him of the times when they were teenagers. Things are different now but some things remain the same.

Like the fact he's pretty much thinking with his dick and not with that brain of his.

What's new?

He watches as she takes off her jacket, kicking the door behind him shut, eying her up and down in a way he didn't dare to do often. She's still hot as hell and he's still got it bad for her. Especially when she turns and looks at him with a smirk of her own. He vaguely wonders if she's as confident as she seems but he doesn't ask. Doesn't ask where that perfect Northsider suburban mom look of hers went.

There are no bright colored sweaters that cover every inch of her or those glasses either. Even if he can admit the glasses kick up some naughty fantasy where he's definitely the one being punished. She's not wearing any dumb little pin she no doubt got as a gift from Hal since he's the most boring dude on planet Earth, which is saying something given the Northside is just a breeding ground for boring old white men.

"You know, half the damn park probably saw you walk in here." He says, taking a step closer, seeing if she'll actually make the move or chicken out.

Alice shrugs, unbuttoning another button, the black lace of her bra exposed. "I've been coming around more lately."

"Not looking like that." He licks his lips as she becomes all too distracting. No part of him pretends he isn't staring at her exposed tits and thinking about how it be to suck on them, to feel them in his hand, hell, he'd take them around his cock, too. He's not picky.

"Are we going to do this, F.P.? Or are you just going to stare at my tits and worry about what the Serpents think." Her tone has an edge to it as she takes a step forward, closing any last distance, reaching out two fingers to run along the length of his torso.

"I'm going to stare at your tits and wonder why you have any clothes on at all. Old Alice would have kissed me by now. Losing your edge, Princess?"

Alice rolls her eyes instantly. "Shut up, FP."

"Happy to oblige."

It doesn't matter who makes the first move when he's kissing her for the first time in far too long. Her back ends up against the wall and his hands are working those damn buttons of her blouse to expose her skin. Her hands are running along his abdomen and her nails scratch against him, causing him to moan against her lips.

He pulls back just enough to pull the shirt off of his body, her looking at him, eyes casting down to the Serpent tattoo in the middle of his chest, covering that scar of his he got when he was a teenager. She was with him when he got it, even did some shitty patch work before he broke down and actually went to the hospital so he didn't bleed to death all over the floor her bedroom. She traces a finger along the lines of the snake and he feels the shiver cast up his spine, memories flooding him that he doesn't have much time to deal with.

He wants something else

That something is made perfectly clear when he drops down to his knees in front of her, undoing the button of her pants. Black. A nice touch. As if she's slowly sliding into who she used to be. It's the last thought he has as he tugs them off her hips, pulling the black lace of her panties, that she obviously wore for his own benefit, with them.

"Off." He demands, licking his lips as she kicks off the fabric, her heels in the process, leaving her there before him. He's got a good visual of her tattoo, the mark that makes her ever the Serpent. F.P. wastes no time in spreading her legs apart, kisses placed along her thigh, nipping at her skin with his blunt teeth, a thought to leave a mark. He sucks at the skin then, thinking he needs to, needs to leave her a lovely little reminder of what exactly the pair are doing there together. Proof he is there and that husband of hers is not. No one else at all.

She wants to be fucked and he's just the man for the job.

"F.P." She half moans, half scolds, a whiny desperate little sound as her fingers grip at his hair, a harsh tug.

"Patience." He says it just to be difficult, so he can torture her just a little. It's the first time in twenty some odd years he's had her like this and he's not wrecking the moment. He wants to savor it and make her tremble above him, make her cum as many times as he can before neither of them can move anymore. He wants her fucked out and raw like he used to love to do when they were teens sneaking around.

He can practically hear the way in which she rolls her eyes but she manages to keep quiet for the moment. Rather than speaking she pushes his head towards her dripping cunt more, easily able to gather just how wet she is, how much she wants this.

A leg winds up hooked over his shoulder, the scent of her as striking as ever. The first swipe of his tongue is everything. It's that first moment to tell him that this is really happening and is not a dream. There he is, running his tongue along her, hearing that first little whimper of pleasure. It's him, on his knees for her, the one to get her off, to make her cum, to have her fingers tangled in his hair it almost hurts.

He loves that.

He loves those little sounds that start slipping out from her as he does his best to work her over. Careful moments, leaving no part untouched, hitting those little spots he knows drive her mad. It may have been a long time since he last had her like this but he's never forgotten about Alice Cooper.

In any way.

That clit of hers remain untouched for the moment, arm moving around her, flesh of her ass gripped by his hand, giving a squeeze, holding onto her as much as she is holding onto him.

She tastes heavenly, like he remembers, like he swears he can stay there forever and doesn't care who seems him down there without a care in the world but making her fall apart all over his mouth.

He can hear his name fall from her lips. His actual name. God, he hates it but then there's her, the way it sounds as it is a moan, the way she only pushes his head further, the way she grinds that perfect pussy of hers against his mouth, it makes him forget about that damn name of his.

"If you don't get on with I swear to God…"

She doesn't have a chance to finish her threat as he finally gives her clit some attention it desperately needs, hand not filled with her ass slipping two fingers inside of her, a slow tease that only becomes quicker with the way his tongue works against her. He's sucking, needy, desperate, needing to feel that orgasm shake through her.

He half wishes he was lying down so she could ride his face, take the pleasure for herself, what she wants and how she wants it. He'd happily be pinned beneath her grinding down on him until she cums.

Always had a thing for that.

His head tilts back just sightly and he pulls her so she's closer, so she can get what she wants and he can take what he needs. He needs this. God, he wish he could see her face. The way her mouth drops out and that dazed and hazed look she always gets, the way her cheeks flush and she's trying her hardest to not cum just yet.

It's the slight quiver of her thighs that only pushes him further into her, to lick and suck, to barely catch his breath as he cannot help himself in taking what he wants. It's her. He wants her so damn bad that he can barely help himself.

"Fuck, F.P." She murmurs, slipping out slowly, "Just like that. Fuck, fuck, fuck."

The sound of her swearing is all too perfect, the way she grinds herself against his mouth. He's too far lost in her to actually care about how much he aches in his jeans. He's hard, throbbing even, the pulse dull in his mind as he swipes his tongue along her in ways he hasn't gotten to do in so fucking long. With anyone, even. He loves this. The way he can lick and suck, how she's so wet he can feel it on his lips, his tongue, through the beard growing on his face. He only grips at her tighter as she does him, keeps her steady, fingers fucking her harder, faster, the slight curl hitting that spot, not wasting anything on her.

"Forsythe." She whispers, lower, that sound she gets when she's all too close, too lost to worry about being Alice . Even more of a tell over the way her back barely against the wall is the only thing her up. She's relying on him. In more ways than one.

He doesn't hold back. Rather, for everything she gives him, he returns. It's the way his hand smacks against her ass that sends her over the edge. She god damn shakes, tugging at his hair so hard he swears it'll rip out, jaw on the edge of aching for relief, but that taste of her is something he savors.

His ministrations become softer, slower, savoring every last moment.

Her fingers move from his hair and he releases his grip from her, resting himself back on his heels, looking up at her, sucking on his fingers just for the lewd image of it. She's set off that pretty little perfect Northside Cooper and he loves it. Even as he aches behind his jeans, desperate to fuck her. He wants to be inside of her so damn bad he can barely stand it, but if there is a sight he wants to take in it's that one.

"Up." Alice orders, yanking him up with a forceful grip on his arm. "We're not done."

"On with it then."

She wastes no time in undoing his belt, pulling his jeans and boxers down enough to grab at his cock. It's hard, throbbing, desperate for her touch. The touch that is just as teasing as he was. Her grip is light, not even enclosing around him entirely, rather the touch feather light, just enough to feel something.

Payback.

"I want you to fuck me." Alice tells him, moving so she's standing against him, barely enough room for her teasing strokes that only make him need more. "Right here. Right now."

He swallows as he looks at her. Eyes falling down to her lips, the smear of her lipstick from kissing him prior, hand finding the edge of her hip, right around where her tattoo is. He runs his fingers along the snake, the one he was with her when she got, the one that is still there after so many years. It brings a sense of pride that she hasn't gotten rid of it even if she likes to pretend she's not a Serpent. The fact that she's there tells him something else entirely. "I don't think I quite heard you."

She smirks, giving him a squeeze, firm but not painful, better. He's leaking and desperate, so fucking desperate he almost quits the game entirely. "I can go find someone who can listen and fuck me at the same time."

Of course, the thought makes him jealous instantly.

Her intention.

His grip on her hip is rougher, hoping it'll leave a mark. She doesn't pull away so neither does he. "You won't." He's too confident. It's not untrue, even so. "You came to me. You could fuck anyone you wanted and here you are, with my cock in your hand, telling me to fuck you."

"And you aren't doing it."

She's right about that. His lips find the edge of her jaw, nipping at her skin, hand moving to her neck, gripping her, holding her there, thinking about marking her there, too. He's always had a bit of a territorial streak. He wants everyone to know what is his. Perhaps not accurate there, not accurate ever, but the urge is still the same.

But by then she's stroking him in earnest, with that twist of her wrist that is just right, in return he fucks himself in her hand.

"Beg me."

She scoffs, instantly. "I don't need to. You want me."

"I can get off with a handjob just as well." Not that he wants to, mind you.

Alice studies him for a moment, stepping backwards, carefully over the clothes, sitting herself on the edge of the table in the kitchen. "Do you remember, F.P.? The last time you had me on a table like this?"

He does. Of course he does. There's a soft breath let out to where she's standing between her legs, spreading them apart so he can get a proper look at her. He pushes the rest of her shirt off of her shoulders, removing that bra of hers, not caring for all of the pretty decoration. He wants to see her like that, in all her glory, right there on his table where he eats. "Might need to refresh my memory."

She's smiling, in that sweet yet scary was, all Serpent. "C'mon, Old Man. I know you do." She places the palm of her hand on his tattoo, lightly raking her nails down the image. "After I did my Serpent dance and you were so jealous with those guys leering at me."

"It wasn't just the looks."

"So, you weren't just jealous."

"Made a bet, who could fuck you first, break in the new girl." He hears things like that from time to time. How it goes. He can pretend up and down that there aren't some of the more dirty aspects to certain life and dynamic between the men and women. Hell, his own sliced the tattoo off of Penny. But back then it made his blood boil in another way. As if Alice was some pretty little prize to be won.

"You won."

He leans in, pulling her towards him so she's at the edge of the table, looking down at her, running his fingertips along her chest. "Didn't make the bet." A truth, not something spoken to just keep the moment going forth. "Wanted you long before that. Fucking you as an act of rebellion on your parent's kitchen table was just a bonus. Knowing the other guys couldn't have you, well, not my fault they were too slow on actually pursuing you."

"Do it again." Her voice is sultry, taking his cock in her hand again, lining him up to where she wants him. "Fuck me. Right here. On this table. Cum in me, F.P. You never could resist before. Don't tell me twenty-five years has softened you."

There's a slight narrowing of his eyes, knowing that she's ticking off all his little boxes, while getting exactly what she wants.

She does get exactly what she wants when he thrusts into her with one swift movement. He's not particularly kind but she doesn't complain.

He gives them both a moment, just a moment, before he's pulling her towards him and suddenly everything feels as just it should. There's a small part in the back of his mind that thinks of all the negative consequences but the way she feels around him matters so much more. His lips find hers and he kisses her, just as not so kindly as he's fucking her on the table. The way she's kissing him and he's kissing her in return, the way they move together like it hasn't been twenty five damn years. There's a whole mess of their lives between them but fucking her so intently is the only thing that matters and he is taking it for what it's worth.

Her lips move down to his neck, feeling her suck at his pulse, his hand gripping down at the table for leverage, her legs wrapping around him as she moves into him as he does her.

The table is hitting the wall steadily, shaking papers and dumb knick knacks no one really needs nor do they know where the fuck they actually came from. One hits the floor and it just makes him smile, the memories of their teen years hitting him hard. It had taken him a good hour to actually assemble the living room so when her dad came home it didn't look like he'd been fucking Alice all over the damn place.

It didn't work and that's about where the good memory ends.

"Harder, F.P." Alice demands, holding onto him tighter, her perfect tits pressed against him, lips now by his ear, teeth tugging at his lobe. "C'mon, I know you can. You used to love seeing if you could make me scream so everyone knew who I was fucking."

Not like it was a secret, anyhow. He doesn't say that, rather his forehead rests against hers, looking at her. The dark makeup mixed with the aging lines around her eyes. She's still as hot as the last time he had her on a table. "Don't close your eyes." It's a command of his own, voice rough, breath heavy. "You aching to cum again? To scream?" He begins, putting more force behind his movements, moving from her slower, only to rock himself against her, over and over. "Hal don't do it for you?"

Her gaze narrows at him. "Don't, F.P."

"Don't keep fucking you or don't bring up that husband of yours. You're not with him, are you?"

She should have a witty comeback but she doesn't, she just moans. "Maybe I'm just taking pity on you."

"If showing up tits out in the middle of the day is pity."

"Net time I'll wear nothing." Her moan is louder, especially as he flicks at her clit. "I need, oh, I just…" Her words string together into nothing coherent.

He doesn't feel much different, biting down on the inside of his cheek to keep some semblance of composure. "Tell me. What do you need, Alice?"

"Don't stop." She leans back, bracing herself against the table, a hand finding her nipping, rolling it through fingertips. "Just like that."

She falls apart first, for the second time since she knocked on his door, holding onto him, onto herself, letting her back arch as she tightens around his cock. Her mouth falls open as she makes certain to look at him, her blue eyes meeting his brown ones. "Come on, F.P. Cum, I want to feel it."

There's only a passing moment before he is doing exactly what she wants. It's not for her, though. It's for him. He feels the pleasure build up to such a high that he can't help himself. "Fuck, Alice." It's loud, echoing through the trailer, feeling him lose his control, spill himself inside of her, feel his breath catch.

His grip on the table only tightened, pulling her roughly to him for a kiss.

"I always did like that Serpent side of you."

She smiles, one genuine, thumb stroking against cheek where she's cupping. "I know."

He pulls out of her and takes a step back, she slides off of the table and grabs his hand before walking back to his bedroom, leaving the trail of clothes behind them.

"We have all afternoon."

The weight of the bed feels different with someone in it. He's laying on his back, Alice on her stomach as she looks up at him, legs up in the air. Almost feels like they are teens again. He has her hand in his own, feeling the cool metal from her wedding ring. His is off somewhere, ignored for the time being.

The fact that they are still married sits on him, somewhat, knowing that it can bring complications. He's been burned before but it matters none, now. Not when he feels that post orgamsic high that makes him feel better than anything else could. Especially when it's Alice.

They've been lying there in silence for a good twenty minutes. His head is against the pillow as he stares up at the ceiling and aimlessly plays with the band of her ring like he did in the diner. He thinks of where they were and where they are now.

She married Hal. He married Gladys. They each had a couple of kids.

But his marriage fell apart and well, she's all too clearly in the business of keeping secrets from her husband.

Is this how it's supposed to be?

He doesn't have those kind of answers and fuck, if he actually wants them.

"Betty asked me to sign a permission slip so she can get a Serpent tattoo." Alice says almost too casually, glancing up at him.

He glances down at her, can see the hesitation in that if he's trying to hide it. "How'd that go over?"

"How do you think it went over, F.P. She's hell bent on joining. Probably just for Jughead."

"We all saw the dance."

Alice rolls her eyes. "That you didn't stop."

"Neither did you." He returns. "And she's your daughter."

Alice rolls her eyes. "I told her she couldn't do it."

"If she wants one she'll get one."

"I know." There's a sigh of defeat. "She's my daughter. What if it was Jellybean?"

"If she ever gets up on that stage I am dragging her out kicking and screaming." It's one of the only reasons he is thankful she is with Gladys. He misses her more than he can explain but he can admit it's safer for her elsewhere.

"Let me be there for that."

"Sticking around then?"

"Maybe." Her voice is sweet as she says it. "I am from the Southside."

He has a feeling in his gut not to trust that, not to trust anything she says in regards to the Southside. So, he doesn't, but he cannot deny there is a feeling of hope that maybe things will work out better than they did before. He lets go of her hand as she shifts closer, her index finger running along the covered scar of his chest.

"I still have no idea how you survived this."

"I'm pretty damn hard to kill."

Her chin rests on him, looking up at him, while alternating with eyes on the serpent tattoo. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't stab me."

She smiles. "No, I meant, for everything. I know things have been...complicated."

"Is this an apology from the mighty Alice Cooper?"

"Don't push it."

"You have nothing to apologize for." He sounds like he might actually mean it. "We were kids and you clearly chose the right path."

"Did I?"

"Yes, Ali. You know you did. All our lives have bullshit complications but you have good kids. Chic's a little weird but that's probably just genetics."

She stiftens slightly.

"I didn't mean anything by it." He tries to recover, but whatever nerve he's hit is hit regardless.

"You always mean it."

"You've met Jug, right? Kid is dramatic as all fuck."

That gets Alice to laugh. "Reminds me of someone, Mr. Giant Serpent Tattoo in The Middle of His Chest."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Alice."

"Of course not." She sits up a little, tracing the snake of his chest. "Did Betty tell you anything while she was here?"

F.P. shrugs. "Just why she was avoiding you at all costs."

Alice rolls her eyes.

"Girl knows how to get what she wants. Reminds me of someone."

"Well, she's at home now."

"Until her next teenage rebellion." The kids are only in their second year of high school and he still has to actually get Jellybean through high school. If they have problems now he can't imagine later.

"As long as she doesn't end up pregnant or arrested."

"She could end up pregnant and arrested." Maybe not funny, but he does smile as he looks at her.

"Don't even speak that into the universe."

"They're good kids. They'll be alright."

"F.P." She lowers her tone, shifting her gaze away from him.

He cocks an eyebrow at her. "What?"

"This is nice."

For some reason, he doesn't think that's what she wants to say but he's not going to ask. There's always a small bit of fear that makes him just not want to know. "Well we're not fighting."

"Yet."

" Yet ." He confirms with a nod.

F.P. moves so he's now lying on his side, shifted down some so he can look at her, fingers brushing through her definitely messed up curls. "You kept your tattoo."

Alice gestures to where it rests on her hip. "Of course I did."

"Of course." He mocks.

"It didn't seem worth removing."

"Hal never asked?" He questions, skepticism in his voice, touching finding the tattoo again. He always did love it. Loves it now as he sneaks glances at it. Loves that even in moments when she runs from everything none of it really matters since she's right there.

"I never listened."

"That's surprising."

"Gladys?"

"No way in hell I was going to remove this even if she did ask. I'm a Serpent and I'm not ashamed of that. I wasn't back then and I'm not now. I fucked up along the way but It is what it is." He truly is content with his choices.

"I'm starting to learn that."

"Took you damn long enough."

"Shut up, F.P." She whispers the words affectionately, versus everything else, scooting so she's closer and kissing him. It's gentle, something to savor, with the way she makes it so she's there and close, her hand gentle on the side of his neck, falling into it.

He kisses her back, as if he would do anything else, leaving his own touches far more gentle. It's lazy like they have all the time in the world and can stay in his bed forever. There's a soft moan that escapes, finding that desire is too easy of a thing around her, the want to be with her again resurfacing. He never did seem to get enough.

Her leg slips between his, arm moving around him, bringing him closer. She stops the kiss, taking a moment to look at him, fingers stroking softly at the best of his neck.

It's far more intimate than either intend. Part of him feels he should pull back or hell, say something to ruin the moment. He's good at that.

He doesn't.

Rather, he swallows as he looks at her and wonders how it took them so long to find their way back when they've been so close.

So close yet so out of reach.

"I thought about this." Alice whispers, just loud enough for him to hear.

"When?"

She doesn't answer immediately, rather nuzzles her nose against his, something she liked to do when they were teens. "A few times. Usually if I saw you. Betty's room looks right into Archie's. I always knew when Jughead was there and sometimes, I'd look out, see you."

"You could have come said hi."

A soft laugh escapes from her. "I would have just insulted you."

A knowing smirk slips across his lips. "I would have liked it."

There's the unspoken knowledge that what is happening now could not have happened before. They were both married and in decent, if not good, depending on the time, marriages. Simply want couldn't change anything.

"This is a long winded way of saying you missed me." He's cocky enough to say it and for once, there isn't fear that she'll deny it. Not now. Not when they're like this.

She slowly moves against him, a need moving through her. "I did. I do."

"You do?" He whispers against her lips, desperate to be close to her.

"I do." She says again. "I need you, your cock. Please ."

A word so rare he doesn't have the heart to challenge it. Rather he guides himself into her. Far slower this time, around wrapping around her, bringing her so she's flushed entirely against him. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her, light kisses pressed against her heated skin, letting them rock together, slowly.

A long, drawn out moan comes from Alice, short gasp, pushing herself against him as much as she can.

F.P. can count the number of times he'd had this feeling in his entire life. He is almost as uncomfortable as it is comfortable, almost searching for a way to break it. It's easier to distance himself when they are at each other's throats, in a far more figurative sense. But now, there with her, he feels everything down to his very core.

He attempts to focus on the way she feels around his cock. Good, great even. Slicker than before, a mix of them both filling her, giving him a slip that makes it all the more better. She's perfect around him, hot, needy in the way she grinds down against him, yet, soft in the way she breathes in his ear.

Alice pulls back first, just enough so she can look at him, creating a distance between their faces but not their bodies. "F.P." She whispers, biting down on her lip, barely able to keep her eyes open from the pleasure. "Put your hand around my throat."

"Fuck, Alice." Out of all of the things that she says it has to be that. He has no objections. Never does. It's usually not at a moment like this but nothing about this is normal. It never is. There's a slight shift of them both, sliding her so she's more stable, his hand coming from around her until it's on her throat. He keeps it light, firm, but nothing too real.

She moves against him faster, meeting him with each roll of her hips, legs moving so she's around him. "Harder."

He gives it a moment before there's a slight squeeze to her throat, mimicking the motions, a far harsher way. Not like out in the kitchen but enough, so that he can feel the added pleasure course through him, through them both. The vibrations from her moan can be felt against his hand, her hand closing around his wrist, keeping him from moving it away.

Alice's head moves back down against the pillow, arching herself up into him, grinding up against him.

He squeezes at her throat again, letting himself fall into her like he sees fit. "I forgot how much I love you like this." He really does, just the look of desperation on her face, the way she can't help but feel the pleasure. They played at this game back in high school. Rougher even, sometimes feeling as if they had to be like this in order for it not to get muddled.

It got muddled anyway.

It takes less time than before for her to clasp around him, tighten, feel the pleasure course through her. He lets her shake and quiver beneath him, mouth opening as the orgasm ripped through her. He lets go at just the right moment, losing his last control, spilling himself inside of her. Again.

He pulls out, moving back so he can see her as she lays there. Her breath is heavy but she's sated,for the time being, at least, raw and completely fucked out, flushed in all the right places in all the right ways. She's filled to the brim with his cum and fuck, if it's not the hottest thing he's ever seen.

She reaches for him before he can say anything, tugging him so he's lying next to her, her head on his chest this time.

He runs his fingers through her hair, letting the content feeling of her there with him wash over him.

After a few moments of them both catching their breaths, Alice leaves over the edge of the bed to grab a plaid shirt thrown on a chair, putting it on as she pulls her hair from underneath the collar.

He has to admit he does like the way she looks, still lying there, not interested in moving. She slips off to God knows where. The place is only so big, though, and when he knows she won't leave in just that. She's not going to give the neighbors a reason to talk about her.

Not more than she already has.

"Do you actually have anything worthy to drink in here?" Her tone is scolding in only a way Alice Cooper can as she has a bottle of beer in her hand, taking a sip of it, before passing it to him as she moves to the bed, sitting next to him, propped up on her knees. "Please tell me you did not give my daughter beer."

He smiles, taking it from her, taking back a swig. "They drank all the non beer and Jughead had the last of the juice this morning."

"I'm going to choose to believe that."

"Good."

She takes the bottle back from him, getting more comfortable on the bed, taking a proper look around.

His eyes follow her carefully and he's almost entirely certain that she's judging. He doesn't care. Not really. They both knew where they came from and well, this is it. A lot different in the 90s but at least he can say his relationship is better with Jughead than he ever had with his own old man.

Not that it's saying much given he was kicked out.

Road he chooses not to travel down when Alice is peering at him out of the corner of her eye. "Betty is having dinner with Hal."

"So, she and Jug are off getting laid." He doesn't even think before he says the comment, but he doesn't really think that it's exactly untrue.

Alice swats him, smiling. "F.P. that's not funny. I'm already a grandmother."

"Pretty hot one if you ask me."

"Forsythe." It's meant to be a scold but it's impossible given the ridiculous name and the laughter attempting to not bubble up.

"They're good kids."

"Your son is in a gang."

" You are in a gang." F.P. reminds her, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and rummaging for some pants. "Your Northside Ice Queen image doesn't mean shit when you got that pretty little tattoo on your hip. Never got rid of it, did you? Came to the Whyte Wyrm that night looking like you did when you were seventeen. Didn't even stop your definitely not so innocent daughter from getting up there and doing the damn dance."

"You're right."

F.P. turns around, easily shocked, surprised he's not actually gaping at her. "What?"

"You're right. I know I haven't been fair."

He doesn't fight her because the last thing he wants to do is fight. Neither of them are officially sexually frustrated and he wants to keep it that way. For the time being. Until...until things go back to what they were when she goes home and back to her house. Something definitely feels up though, in a way he can't explain. "What caused the change of heart?"

"Everything fell apart, F.P." She says after a long moment of silence. "Not just now but ever since Polly got pregnant. Maybe even before she got pregnant and was running around with Jason Blossom."

He turns to find a shirt, shrugging it on before looking at her, unsure what to say. His hand that isn't exactly innocent and he knew what would have happened had everything gone according to plan. He knew exactly who he was helping and why. "How is Polly?"

Alice focuses more on the beer bottle than him, swishing the drink, not taking a sip. "I didn't handle it right and she hates me for it." She looks up at him, eyes glassy, swallowing back any real tears. "And Chic...I asked him to leave. My son, F.P."

He moves to sit next to her on the bed. Some things are starting to piece together. He knows what it's like to lose your kids. He got Jughead back but it's been a while since he's seen Jellybean. "You're their mom. You'll always be their mom." It's the best advice he can give. "No one has fucked up more than me, Ali, and Jughead still loves me. We've gotten closer. And Jellybean is going JB now."

Alice smiles at that, just barely. "If you didn't name your kids terrible things they wouldn't need to go by worse nicknames." She claps her hand over his. "What if I don't get them back?"

"Don't talk like that." He softens his voice, a frown coming across his lips.

"What if you don't get to see JB again?"

"Then," he shrugs, unable to answer, knowing the truth is too painful. "I'd be crushed. I love my daughter."

Alice squeezes his hand, swallowing, barely glancing up at him. "Promise me something?"

"What?"

"That you won't hate me."

F.P. isn't exactly sure what that means but his instinct is to say that he could never hate her. Not enough for it to matter, at least. At most she hurt him, but that was a lifetime ago. He doesn't have that energy anymore. "I could never hate you."

Alice nods, inhaling sharply, doing away with the tears. "Chic isn't Hal's." She whispers the words, looking up at him through her bangs, uncertainty everywhere.

F.P. looks at her for a moment, unsure if she's telling the truth. He thinks he knows what she is trying to say but this is not something he wants to be wrong about. "Go on."

She's quiet for far too long, pulling her hand back, fiddling constantly with her wedding ring. "He's...he is your son, F.P."

There's a moment where he is just quiet before he nearly jumps off of the bed and paces along the small open space next to the bed. His son. He has more than one son. Chic is his son. His son killed someone. He got rid of a body for his family, his son, his...whatever the fuck Alice is. Twenty five damn years and...he turns to Alice, gaze sharp, face hardened, so angry he doesn't even know where to start. "What the fuck, Alice?"

That's as good of a place as any.

"Twenty five fucking years, Alice? Then he killed someone in your house and you couldn't tell me then? Or when he was fucking sitting there. When Betty was hell bent on living here because of him?" He's firing off and he sees the way she nearly coils back into herself. He hates yelling at her but...he's hurt.

It's that simple.

He's hurt.

Upon that realization he softens, a lot, running his hand over his face. He's not going to lose any last composure he has. He knew of her and Hal fighting at Homecoming and clearly, he didn't think too hard on it. They were drunk, in the Whyte Wyrm. That much he does remember but she was with Hal and he just...ignored it. Let it slide. Found a purpose in the Serpents and in joining the Army.

"I can't even look at you right now." He looks for his Serpent jacket, a few feet away from him, thrown casually over the dresser. He puts it on, hands clasping the edge of the cheap wood, not looking at anything, eyes shut as he swallows. It's too much. He can't process like this.

Not with her a few feet away watching his every move.

"F.P. Let me explain."

"No." It's too loud and too harsh. "You had years."

"It's not that simple."

He turns then, shaking his head. "It's pretty simple to me. 'Hey, F.P. it's your baby but I want nothing to do with you so I'm going to give it up and live my fucking perfect life without you."

"That's not fair." Her tone is meeting his in harshness, sitting up on her knees, looking at him the way she has for years. "You weren't there."

"News flash Alice life isn't fair." He shouts, unable to do anything but. "You didn't let me be there. You ran to Hal." It stings, more so than he thought it could. "I can't do this."

"Where are you going?"

He waves her off. "Don't let Jughead see you."

"F.P." She repeats his name a few times, growing a bit more desperate with each time. "F.P. Please ."

It's not until he's outside and letting the door fall shut behind him does he feel like he can breath again. Only he's burying his hands in his face and desperately pretending that everything is fine even when it's not.

It's really, really not.