#baellamyblake

That was also how Clarke found herself practically running through the crowd looking to for Octavia so they could get out of here. When she says running she means more like aggressively trying to push her way through the thick mass of people standing between her and the door. Of course right when she needed her, O was nowhere to be found. Probably because she was making out with her “friend” Lincoln, “Uh huh,” Clarke mumbled to herself, “just friend’s my ass.”

She stumbled a little as she pushed through the crowd, the tequila shots she’d downed quite a few minutes ago just starting to catch up to her which- goddamnit this was such bad timing she was clumsy enough sober for fuck’s sake.

The room was spinning slightly, young bodies dancing everywhere, pulsing noise, stinking of sweat and alcohol.

God, she was going to kill Octavia.

By this time she’d managed to make it almost all the way across the room, which in the state she was in was pretty good if she did say so herself. As she turned frantically searching for his familiar face, she crashed into something hard.

“Princess, what a wonderful surprise.” It was Bellamy. Of course it was Bellamy. Could this night be any worse?

“Get out of my way, Blake.” She didn’t know where Finn was, but she knew she needed to be out of here before he saw her.

“Why the rush, Princess? We peasants not good enough for you?” His voice was deep, husky and mocking.

She couldn’t deal with this right now.

“Bellamy, please.” Her voice broke slightly, her desperation showing through. She didn’t want him to see her like this, drunk and vulnerable. She didn’t want Bellamy to know she wasn’t as strong as he thought she was.

The mocking smirk dropped from his face, a look of concern taking its place and goddamnit she didn’t need this. Quickly she moved to rush by him, stumbling slightly as her body reminded her of all the alcohol she’d had. Before she could move far though, a warm hand was gripping her arm. Gently, but firmly holding her in place.

“Princess, what’s wrong?” He asked, leaning towards her slightly, shielding her from the room.

“Um, its nothing really its just Finn, he’s here and I- I can’t see him, please I need to- I need to get out of here. Bellamy, please.” Her voice shakily tripped over the words and tears were burning in the back of her eyes. She needed to get out.

If it was possible his eyes went darker, blacker as he realized what she was saying. Of course he knew all about Finn, he’d been there when she’d burst into Octavia’s small apartment with tears streaming down her face. He’d been there when she’d told Octavia all about how Finn, her boyfriend of six months, actually had a fiancée who lived a state away. How she’d walked in on them in her bed.

And now only a month later, and it still hurt. God, did it hurt. She couldn’t see him. She couldn’t.

“Clarke it’s okay. I won’t let him anywhere near you.” His words were warm, comforting the small crazed part in her that was ready to run for the hills.

His hand was now stroking up and down her arm, she doubt he even knew he was doing it. Trying to calm the spooked horse, and it was working.

But of course, that didn’t last long.  Just as she felt her nerves settling, Bellamy’s protective presence soothing her, she glimpsed his face a few paces away.

She saw it when he recognized her, saw him start to walk over and she panicked. It was too late to leave, and she realized she didn’t want to.

So maybe she did it to spite him, maybe she did it because she knew it would make him go away, maybe it was the alcohol.

Or maybe it was just that she’d secretly wanted to do this for a very long time.

With Finn moving towards them out of the corner of her eye she propelled herself forward towards Bellamy, twining her arms around his neck, gripping his wild hair between her fingers.

“Clarke what are you-“ She smashed her lips against his, begging him to go along with it, begging him to help her. His whole body was tense with surprise, his mouth was unresisting, and for a second she thought he would push her away.

But he didn’t.

His hands went around her waist pulling her into him, and God did he smell good. She melted against him, trying to be as close to him as possible. Their mouths moved together in a hot tangled mess, following each other into the abyss.

She forgot why she was doing this, where she was, who she was hiding from, and everything just melted away. All there was was him. Bellamy. His hands, his mouth, his chest, everywhere engulfing her in everything that made him, him. Desire was racing through her lighting her up, and she’d never felt anything like this with Finn.

Panting she broke away, angry at her body’s need for oxygen, because all she wanted was to stay there locked with him forever. She didn’t care where Finn was, and she couldn’t see him anywhere. All she could see was Bellamy, looking down at her, his lips swollen and his eyes hard with what she thought was desire.

“What was that?” He whispered, their faces inches away from each other, their limbs still entwined. Were they in the middle of the room? She couldn’t quite remember. People didn’t really seem to notice though; they still danced around them drunk, high and everything in between.

“Finn was coming over. He saw me I guess and I thought he’d leave if…” She trailed off at the look in his eyes, hard, distant, and already gone.

“I see.” And with that he pulled away, turning to walk back through the throbbing mass of people, heading towards the door.

Oh fuck.

The thing about Bellamy and Clarke was that there wasn’t really a thing. They bickered ceaselessly, and mocked each other like there was no tomorrow, but there had never been anything between them. He was just Octavia’s older brother, and she was just Octavia’s best friend.

He’d been living with Octavia for the last few months, after he got kicked out of his place for some mysterious unknown reason. She’d only heard about him before then, and it had been obvious to her how much Octavia loved her older brother, but she’d never met him.

She hadn’t known what to expect, but she knew that if he were anything like Octavia he would be all fire and spirit. Of course he had also turned out to be gorgeous, like the full drop dead, movie star gorgeous that was only ever found in movies or television. He had been all fire and spirit and more, picking fights every way he turned, every part the swaggering emotionless bad boy.

What she hadn’t been expecting was the other side. The boy who loved his sister fiercely, who was protective and kind, even to her. Bellamy Blake infuriated her most definitely. But he also didn’t leave when she came to the Blake siblings bawling about Finn. In fact she was pretty sure he was the reason Finn had been sporting a wonderful mask of black and blue two days later.

Clarke and Bellamy weren’t a thing. Except for how they were.

And when Bellamy stormed out, Clarke chased after him.

Her legs moved slowly, as if they couldn’t quite understand the urgent message her brain was trying to send them. It took her forever to reach the door, and by the time she did she figured he would already be gone.

He wasn’t.

He was standing on the porch outside, leaning against the railing. It was dark outside, and chilly. The silence of the outdoors was shocking compared to the blasting noise of the party inside.

He was wearing a pair of faded jeans, and an old leather jacket, she hadn’t really noticed before, too caught up in her own problems to pay attention.

If he heard her come out he didn’t say anything. He was silent. She was overcome with a wave of fear. What if he didn’t forgive her? What if he hated her? What if she lost whatever this was? What if she lost the only person who didn’t treat her like she was a delicate piece of broken china?

What if she never got to kiss him again?

“Bellamy.” Her voice was strong, despite her fears it held the bravery she’d wished she’d had earlier.

“Go back inside, Princess.” He didn’t sound angry. Just tired. Really tired.

“No, I won’t. Bell, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine Princess, it didn’t mean anything. Just wanted to get rid of Finn right?” He laughed coldly.

“Bellamy, look at me.” She pleaded, desperate.

“Go away.”

“Bellamy, please.”

He turned, he was angry now she could tell. She didn’t think he’d ever been angry with her. Annoyed, yes. Mocking and sarcastic? Of course. She’d seen him mad before, seen him turn around and clock a creep who’d been bothering Octavia right in the jaw.

She’d seen him angry, but she’d never seen his anger aimed at her.

“Bellamy, I-“

“You wanted a distraction, and that’s what you got. I get it, it meant nothing, you can leave now.” His voice was harsh, cutting through the air like a knife, each word slicing into her skin. She didn’t know what to say.

“It wasn’t like that!” She just needed him to know, she needed to get it out. She needed him to know that maybe that was how it began, but that it wasn’t how it ended.

He glowered at her.

“Ok, so maybe it was a little, but Bellamy it wasn’t just that Finn was there, I- I wanted to.”

If it was possible, his body tensed up even more. She couldn’t imagine what he was thinking. Maybe she’d read him wrong. Maybe he wasn’t angry that she’d used him to get away from Finn, but angry that she’d forced herself on him. She disgusted him.

“Um. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I forced you to do that, I uh,” She let out a small mocking laugh, how could she have ever even thought that he’d wanted her? Her for gods sake, she wasn’t even his type. “Thanks for going along with it. I just thought, well it doesn’t matter what I thought, I’ll leave you alone now.”

She turned to walk away, not to go back to the party inside, but to make the short walk back home. Yet, as she went to leave she felt a hand once again holding her back.

He spun her around to face him, and she found them mimicking the position they’d been in what just half an hour ago?

“Thought what?” His husky voice was low, but she could hear them clearly, could feel them brush against her cheek in the still calm night. “I thought well, maybe you wanted to.” Her words were just as quiet, but there was no mistaking what she said.

She was scared to look at him, scared to know the answer, the answer she knew she would find in those dark eyes.

“Clarke, look at me.” His large hand cradled her cheek, forcing her eyes to meet his, blue staring into the deepest brown. There was no way out.

But then he was kissing her.

Their roles were reversed this time, he was the one who’d initiated it and she was the one who was shocked and unresponsive at first. This kiss was soft, not as aggressive and rushed as the other one. He was coaxing her into him, his mouth moving gently but firmly against hers. She opened up to him, their breath mixing together, as his tongue moved to meet hers.

It was way better then the drunken frantic heat of the first time.

Need coursed through her, and she pushed against him harder, demanding him to give her more. Bellamy didn’t disappoint.

He moved her back, and pushed her against the railing of the porch, his hands were in her hair, before they moved down her body picking her up and sitting her promptly on the railing. They were at eye level now, and the heat between them was palpable.

Her hands were in his hair again, pulling him into her. He sat in the v between her legs, his hands running up and down her thighs.

She’d never been kissed like this before, and the more he gave the more she wanted.

He broke from her, and she let out a whine. He huffed with a laugh.

“Princess, there’s nothing I wanted to do more.”

She felt a burst of happiness inside her at his words, he wanted this to, and he wanted her. She didn’t think she’d ever been happier.

She surged back, catching his mouth with hers and then they were kissing once more. She never wanted this moment to end.