IMAGINES ▹ ROSS BUTLER

↳ too cool

( TOO COOL ) 
by gutterdreams

Hair still wet and dripping down his neck, Reggie was changing back into the clothes he had worn all day prior to the game. It was hard for him to do menial tasks after a big win, he wanted to run around, shout, and celebrate with his team until his body literally couldn't take any more and shut down. As he wiggled into his dark, almost black jeans, he nodded for Moose's attention beside him , the defense player still only in his boxers.

"Hey, what are you and Midge doing tomorrow?" It was Saturday and Midge could not be contained. Reggie knew they would want some activity to do even if it was low key.

"I don't know. She wants to go to the woods or something." Moose could not have sounded less interested if he tried.

"Cool." Reggie agreed with a small dip of his chin. He would never try to block one of his guys from hooking up. "Well if before you want to come, [Y/N] is having a photography show thing." He mentioned while pulling a white undershirt over his head, the fabric clinging to his chest instantly. He took Moose's silence as a need for more information. "It's supposed to be chill. Just like music, coffee, some of her stuff on one wall and some other girl's stuff on the other." If you asked, Reggie would say he listened to the details you have him about your upcoming art show, but usually he was just watching your mouth move and wishing it was on his cock.

"Sounds..." Moose sighed before finding the right word. "Pretty lame." He chuckled lightly after and shook his head. "I'll mention it to Midge." While it wasn't his typical scene, Moose figured Midge would enjoy it. She sometimes complained he didn't take her out on dates and this might score him a single point in her good books.

Coming up behind him, Chuck Clayton towel whipped Reggie right above the waist band of his boxer briefs. Even though the towel made a crisp sound as it hit the air and then bit Reggie's skin, Chuck added in his own whip noise over top.

"Fuck off." Like a reflex, Reg hissed at his temperamental friend.

"You and Moose have a cute art date. Precious." Chuck laughed and bent the folded white towel behind his neck. He never grew tired of bugging his teammates. It always made him good, no matter how unfair or mean.

"It's not..." Reggie began to argue and then shook his head at himself. "[Y/N] is doing a show for her photos. You should come." He really wanted you to have a huge turn out, knowing from experience how good it felt to be supported. You were at every one of his games.

"I'd rather cut my dick off with a butter knife." Dramatically, Chuck replied and then laughed with the teammate closest to his own locker. "Too bad you're whipped and have to go. Are you going to wear a beret and turtleneck too, Mantle?" Chuck howled as he fished his clothes out of his open locker.

Reggie was burning inside, but he really started to feel the flare of internal flames when Moose joined in with the lemming laughter.

"Fuck you guys." Reg slammed his locker and aggressively grabbed his gym bag from the floor, tossing it over his shoulder and starting to leave. "Least I get pussy." He snarled at Chuck and left, the joy from his football victory momentarily stolen.

Reggie dragged his feet out of the school, his head preoccupied with frustration over being embarrassed in front of his buddies. He didn't have the emotional maturity to take it. It cast a heavy shadow over his otherwise fine mood.

"Hey champ!" You ran away from the front of his car that you were leaning up against, waiting since the game ended and running over to him before he was off the final step of Riverdale High. "You played flawlessly." Grinning from ear to ear, you complimented him honestly while hugging his neck. His hands were slow to rest on your neck. They stayed outside the denim of your jacket instead of beneath and right above your butt dimples as usual. "You okay?" Cautiously, you pulled away. Usually after a huge win, Reggie was flying with happiness that couldn't be compressed. He was almost obnoxious usually and driving others crazy with his loud recollection of the games and pumping his fists into the air. Pop's almost always had to tell him to keep his voice down and he was the only person that could.