#bflnet

Neither of them missed the insinuation.

“Excuse me?” Clarke said, deadly soft, even as she reflexively grabbed the back of Bellamy’s jacket to keep him from jumping on her best friend.

Wells just blinked at them innocently. “Just reminding you two not to be too loud when you inevitably get into an argument on your way in. Why, what did you think I meant?”

There was no good answer to that, so they stormed off. Together, of course — there was only one good access point to get on and off the platform, and they were headed in the same direction. When Bellamy slung an arm around Clarke’s shoulders, he told himself it was to ward off the early-morning chill and tried to ignore the way his heart warmed up too as she tucked herself into his side for half a second.

-------------------------

Once they got inside the communal quarters, though, it soon became clear that there was little space to step, let alone lie down or even sit, among the scattered sprawl of delinquents. Clarke sighed and nudged Bellamy to get his attention, then cocked her head back towards the door. Giving up on the insulated dropship, they headed for his tent instead.

When she caught sight of the rumpled blanket on the narrow makeshift bed, Clarke hesitated. “I can go,” she said softly.

“Do you really want to wade through all those kids to find a place to sleep when I have a perfectly good bed right here? Plus it’s cold out. Body heat, that’s a thing, right?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he had to actively try not to blush. He’d had threesomes, dammit; inviting his co-leader to platonically share his sleeping space should not have been this awkward.

“Um. If you’re sure, I guess.”

“What, the princess needs twenty feet of personal space at all times?” he said, a bit too harshly to be teasing. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll sleep on the ground instead.”

The temperature in his tent might’ve dropped another ten degrees due to her icy glare. “Don’t be stupid, Bellamy. Who’s going to argue with my every decision if you die of hypothermia doing something so patently unnecessary? And besides, I’m too busy to deal with the bruises you’ll whine about in the morning.”

“Glad we got that sorted out.” Bellamy swept an arm across the bed in a grand gesture. “Ladies first.”

That got a wry smile as she slid under the covers, moving to one side to make room for him. “I think we both know I’m no lady.”

“How could I forget? You’re a princess.” But there was no bite in his voice as he joined her. “How long until one of the delinquents comes running in with an emergency, do you think?”

Her eyes were already closed. “Not long enough. Get some sleep, Bellamy. While we still can.”

-------------------------

The sun was fully up by the time Bellamy woke. Stretching out his arms, he was mildly surprised to find the other side of the bed empty and cold, but couldn’t immediately remember why. He didn’t remember bringing a girl back last night, after he’d been relieved of his watch by Wells and —

Right. Clarke.

He ducked out of his tent, trying to ignore a twinge of disappointment, and immediately caught sight of her blond hair, the brightest thing in camp. (Okay, clearly he had gotten more than enough sleep if his brain was making sappy observations like that. Think tougher thoughts, like how to track deer, or the state of the food supply.)

“Look who’s rejoined us,” Wells said cheerfully as he approached. “I’d ask how you slept, but, well, Clarke was there. So I don’t want to hear any details about how you crazy kids spent the night.”

She kicked him in the ankle without even turning to look. “Shut up. You know it wasn’t like that.”

“I find it difficult to believe you guys managed not to get into another argument for more than a few hours, but if you say so.” Still grinning, he stood up and handed the ration pack they’d been sharing to Bellamy. “I’m going to go make sure Jasper and Monty aren’t blowing anything important up, then I’ll go see if Raven could use an extra pair of hands with those ‘camp defense devices.’ And that she doesn’t blow anything important up. You guys can handle the rest of camp, right?”

Bellamy took a handful of berries before passing the pouch back to Clarke, and they ate in silence for a few moments before she got to her feet too. “Monroe’s bandages need changing, and I want to check on Harper’s cough. Probably just a cold or something, but hopefully it’s not getting any worse or spreading to the others.”

Bellamy nodded. “Any particular plants you need while the scavenging party’s out?”

That familiar little furrow between Clarke’s brows put in an appearance as she thought it over, and Bellamy had to resist the urge to reach over and smooth it out. Thoughtful princess. “I think we’re fine,” she said finally. “We could always use more of all the usual stuff if you happen to come across it, but we’ve got a pretty good supply to work with, so you don’t need to go out of your way or anything.”

“Alright. See you in a bit, then.”

As he turned to go round up their best scavengers and trackers, Clarke called his name softly.

“Yeah, princess?”

“Just — be careful.”

He winked. “Always am.”

-------------------------

The sun was directly overhead when the scavenging party returned, as Clarke discovered when she popped outside for a bit of fresh air. She was just in time to see the last of the group come through the gate: leaning heavily on Miller, brow knitted in what was probably pain, clearly favoring one leg.

“Damn it, Bellamy,” she muttered, forcing herself not to run to meet them.

To her overanxious mind, it felt like ages before they finally reached the tent that was serving as the short-term infirmary. Most of the returning hunter-gatherers had already scattered to put away their bounty or catch up with friends or sneak a nap, though Miller stayed, of course, as did Myles and a few others.

“It’s worse than it looks,” Bellamy started, then winced as Miller jostled him — probably on purpose, judging from the warning glance he darted at Clarke — and stopped talking altogether when he met Clarke’s eye.

She didn’t say anything to him, though; her gaze stayed determinedly on Miller now that she was sure Bellamy would live through whatever idiocy he’d gotten himself into now. “I can take him from here.”

“No, you can’t.” Before she could protest, Miller added, “He’s even heavier than he looks.”

That almost got a smile out of her, but unfortunately for Bellamy she managed to resist. All was silent as Miller helped him inside and onto an examination table, then left hastily.

Finally Clarke addressed him — his ankle, specifically. “I can’t believe you got hurt during a scavenging mission. What happened to ‘It’s so low-risk I’d let Octavia come along’?”

“It’s just a sprain or something.” Bellamy winced as she prodded at his injury.

Pausing to throw him an unimpressed look, Clarke sighed. “Who’s the medical expert here, me or you?”

Bellamy conceded the point with a dramatic sigh. “All right, Dr. Princess. Carry on.”

Being Clarke, though, she couldn’t just let it go. “I told you to be careful, too.”

“You know that I don’t take orders from you. What’s the big deal, anyway? I just slipped on some ice.”

“It is a big deal.” Furious as her words were, Clarke’s hands remained gentle as she wrapped the injury. “Do you know how worried I was when I saw that you couldn’t even walk through the gate by yourself? Not only would we be down a hunter and a sentry, the kids listen to you and follow you like they wouldn’t do for me and Wells alone, and I don’t know what we’d do if —”

“Hey.” Bellamy laid a gentle hand over hers. “Why this all of a sudden, Clarke? Nothing’s changed since we landed.”

When Clarke finally tied off the bandage and got up to put away the surplus, Bellamy let her go, patiently waiting for an answer that never came.

Instead, she just said flatly, back still turned to him, “You’re right, nothing’s changed. Never mind. Just try not to die on us this week, doctor’s orders,” and went to check on the other patients.

-------------------------

After a few minutes of searching, it finally occurred to Bellamy to try Raven’s tent. (He blamed it on the pain — it was duller, now that his ankle had been set, but still very much present. Never mind that a minor injury had never before majorly impacted his higher functions.)

“Jaha.” He was relieved to find the other boy sitting with their resident mechanic/genius; they were definitely flirting, so he felt a little bad for interrupting, but he was having a bit of a crisis and their situation, being in much better condition than his own, could wait a few minutes.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Though Wells’ response was amiable as always, Raven was glaring daggers that would’ve made Bellamy fear for his life if he wasn’t already anxious about being — for some inexplicable reason — in hot water with Clarke, which was the whole reason he was here.

He briefly considered trying to get Wells alone, but it felt like the kind of problem that could use input from multiple people. (These were also the best two people for this problem, come to think of it; Clarke’s two closest friends, and his too if he was being totally honest.) “So listen, the princess has been pissed at me all afternoon. Did something happen while I was gone?”

Whatever response he was expecting, the exchanged eye roll and identical Are you serious right now? looks were definitely not it.

“Oh, you poor asshole.” Raven sighed. “You still haven’t realized it, have you?”

“What?”

The sympathy in Wells’ expression was possibly worse than the mockery in Raven’s. “That Clarke’s in love with you.”

“No, she’s not,” he said automatically, then paused. Their theory would kind of explain a lot of things.

“So. Now you know. What are you going to do about it, O fearless leader?” Raven raised an eyebrow at him.

Bellamy opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I don’t think —”

“Don’t think.” Wells pushed him toward the door. “Just do something.”

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Clarke was up on the wall, of course, which was luckily the first place he’d thought to look. (Or, well, he’d meant for it to be the only one: it would’ve been a good place to sulk/consider his next move when he didn’t find her.) She didn’t turn around despite his attempts to make extra noise as he approached, so that he wouldn’t startle her out of whatever thoughts she was lost in — what he wouldn’t give to know what went on in that brilliant mind — or set her on edge before he’d even gotten a chance to figure out what to say.

But she seemed to read it on his face even before he had composed any kind of coherent declaration. “You talked to Wells. And maybe Raven?” She searched his face, and the corner of her mouth quirked up. “Definitely Raven. And they told you.”

It all seemed too easy. “Yeah, they did.”

“And?” Clarke’s expression was inscrutable, and it was making him nervous even though one might argue he held the advantageous position here.

“And … I feel the same way.”

She blinked. And — was that another smile he’d glimpsed? “You agree that we should let the kids choose to specialize instead of learning how to do all the different duties around camp?”

“What? No, I —” He was about seventy percent sure she was just teasing, but it was hard to tell with Clarke sometimes, and there seemed to be so much at stake. He couldn’t mess this one up. “What I meant was —”

Of course, Clarke refused to bail him out; she only cocked her head curiously, though now he was all but certain she was on the verge of a smile.

“I love you too. I couldn’t do this without you, and I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else.”

Definitely grinning now, she leaned up on tiptoe to kiss him — just a brief press of her lips before she pulled away, but she let him hold her close after. “We can’t forget about Wells, though.”

Relieved, he leaned his cheek against the top of her head. “Of course not. Where would we be without him?”

-------------------------

The sun had gone down, and most of the delinquents were gathered around the campfire.

“Triumvirate,” Bellamy said quietly, finally hitting on the word that had eluded him for weeks.

Wells glanced over at him. “What?”

Of course, Clarke had caught on immediately. “Trio of leaders. Historically all-male, by the way.”

“Which just makes our princess that much more special,” Bellamy teased, and she actually smiled at that, which in turn made the corner of his mouth quirk up.

“Present company excluded. Raven Reyes, light of my life, you are the very opposite of complicated.”

“You calling me simple, Blake?”

He opened one eye to mock-glare at her. “There’s no winning with you, is there?”

“Tough luck.” Miller snorted. “Whatever happens with that girl, you’re still stuck with us.”

“I know,” Bellamy said, trying to sound more annoyed than appreciative.

After a minute, Raven sighed again and held up Bellamy’s own phone. (He didn’t know when she’d swiped it, and quite frankly he was a little scared to ask.) “This is her, right?”

Bellamy stared at the Facebook profile. “Do I want to know how you found this?”

His friends just exchanged a look.

“You could send her a friend request,” Miller pointed out. “Or just message her.”

“Way ahead of you.” Raven smirked, ignoring Bellamy’s protests as she typed away. Finally she set the phone down, turning it so they could read what she’d written.

hey it’s the nerd from yesterdays party.

what r u doing tonight?

“Fuck, Raven, she’s gonna think I’m a creeper and she’ll never talk to me again.”

But clearly he’d spoken too soon, because those taunting “typing” ellipse had just popped up. Seconds later, it disappeared. A pause. It reappeared. Then:

hey to you too

to answer your question, not much

movie w/ the bf

Miller raised an eyebrow at Raven, who shook her head. “The things we do for you, Bellamy. You owe us your firstborn or something. I mean, I’m not into kids, but I bet you guys’ll make really pretty babies. Probably worth something on Etsy, right?”

“What?” he said, still dazed at the fact that Clarke had actually texted back.

Raven and Miller exchanged another glance, this one more fond than exasperated and more resigned than anything else. “So what’s playing at the theater today?”

A flash of chestnut curls across the lobby caught Bellamy’s eye, and he did a double take as their owner caught sight of him at the same time. “Gina?”

“Bellamy, hey! And Raven, and Miller. How are you guys?” Gina’s smile was warm and sincere as she greeted them, but Bellamy couldn’t seem to focus on the usually stunning sight when he was still searching the room for a glimpse of blonde.

“Fine,” Raven said after a while, kicking Bellamy as discreetly as possible. “Hi, Luna.”

“Hello, Raven.” Self-contained as ever, Gina’s best friend barely spared the rest of them a second glance. “What movie do you guys plan to see?”

“We hadn’t decided yet. Miller vetoed Rebellion, he’s waiting to see it with his boyfriend, but everything else is fair game. What about you guys?”

Bellamy lost track of the conversation about then, because there she was. Golden hair twisted into a low messy bun, blue eyes bright as she laughed at something one of her friends was saying, slim fingers intertwined with those of a floppy-haired, douchey-looking guy who must be the boyfriend.

Then she turned, her gaze meeting his, and Bellamy’s sudden sharp annoyance melted away as she dropped the guy’s hand to cross the room to meet him.

“Hi,” she said, her voice low and warm.

“You’re here,” he said, then immediately wanted to facepalm. Good job, Captain Obvious.

“I did tell you I would be.” Still smiling, Clarke half-turned as her companions came up behind her. The boyfriend stepped up close to wrap a possessive arm around her hips, sizing Bellamy up contemptuously. Bellamy tried not to bristle too obviously, but luckily Clarke didn’t seem to notice. “This is Finn. My boyfriend.

“And this is Bellamy,” Clarke continued, leaning back into him. He didn’t say anything, but there was definitely smug arrogance in the smirk he directed at Bellamy now.

The guy — Finn — jerked his head in greeting. “Hey, man.”

Bellamy nodded in response.

“What movie are you guys seeing?” Clarke went on, still oblivious to (or maybe just deliberately ignoring) the tense atmosphere. “We hadn’t decided yet, maybe we’ll join you. If your friends don’t mind.”

“Oh, yeah, I think that’d be fine.” Turning back to the others, Bellamy found Gina watching them, her expression politely blank, and waved her over. “Hey, Gina, this is Clarke. I met her at the party last night. Clarke, this is —” He hesitated. Clarke already knew who she was, of course, but he didn’t exactly want to let his crush know that he’d talked about her to a girl she didn’t know. After a few minutes of struggling for a descriptor, he settled on, “This is my friend Gina.”

“Hi, Clarke.” Gina smiled, but Bellamy’s eyes were on Clarke and he barely noticed. “It’s nice to see that Bellamy’s capable of making friends on his own. We’ve all been a little worried about his prospects next year, away from home and all of us.”

When Clarke tilted her head at him, he explained, “I’m going to UPenn next year. Classics major, hopefully. Most of the others are staying closer to home, so they’ve been making fun of my inability to function socially.”

“Oh, wow!” To his relief, she didn’t ask what he planned to do with his degree. Instead, she just smiled. “That’s pretty cool. Do what you love, right?”

He was helpless not to smile back. “Exactly.”

“The movie’s starting soon,” Raven said, somewhat louder than was polite for a public setting, but Bellamy was simultaneously grateful for and annoyed by the interruption. His feelings for Clarke were unfamiliar, this eagerness to impress her mixed with a strange surety that she would believe in him even if he fell flat on his face in the attempt.

“Hey, Roan’s having a party later. Will we see you guys there?” Gina was looking at Clarke, and Bellamy couldn’t shake the unsettling idea that she was pointedly not looking at him.

Clarke glanced towards him, who did his best to look encouraging. After a moment’s consideration, she said, “Sure. Bellamy, text me the details?”

“Or I could give you a ride,” he blurted.

Her smile was soft, even apologetic as she explained, “Finn loves every chance he gets to show off his car, I don’t think he’ll pass this one up. I’ll meet you there.” With that, she rejoined her boyfriend, letting him slide an arm around her waist, and Bellamy had to look away.

“So that’s her,” Gina said quietly.

“Huh?”

“The girl you like.”

His head jerked up in alarm at that. “What? No, I —”

“It’s okay, Bell.” She met his gaze evenly. “Raven told Luna, and I overheard. She seems nice.”

“She has a boyfriend,” he said automatically, as much a reminder for himself as for her.

“Yes, and that’s unfortunate. I don’t know what she sees in him; of course you’d be a better choice.”

If you’d asked him just a few days ago, Bellamy would have said he wanted nothing more than for Gina to realize he’d be a great boyfriend. Now he found that it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as he’d dreamed.

“Oh.” As she so often did, Gina seemed to guess his thoughts. “Bell, you’re not in love with me.” There was no surprise in her voice, just sympathy.

“I’m not.” He meant it to be a question, just echoing her words, but his voice betrayed his subconscious. “Oh. I’m really not.”

Gina hugged him, brief but tight, all friendly affection. “For what it’s worth, I’m rooting for you.”

“Can you, um — I don’t think I can sit there in that theater with them. Will you tell Clarke I had something to take care of, but I’ll see her at the party?”

“Of course. Wear something nice, alright?”

Bellamy shuddered, darting a quick glance into the bathroom. “I was eight when I was bitten. Initially the change between wolf and human is set off by any shift in temperature, so I was shifting back and forth almost constantly. My mother and sister had no idea what was happening — I mean, neither did I, but where I was terrified of what was happening to me, they were terrified of me. They thought I’d hurt them, and I hardly knew myself while I was shifting, and I could’ve… but I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself afterward… It was only about a week before they…” He straightened, eyes still closed. “My mother and her boyfriend held me down in the bathtub and —” Jaw clenched, he shook his head, then yanked up a sleeve.

Dread and horror squeezing at her heart, Clarke gently took his arm and was unpleasantly unsurprised to see the jagged scar tissue across his wrist. “Oh, Bellamy.”

He shrugged, aggressively nonchalant. “My mother was arrested. Life sentence. And my sister was put in foster care. She was five. I’d bet she’s pretty messed up about it, if she even remembers. Maybe she just repressed the whole thing, forgot she even ever had a brother.”

“What about you?” Clarke asked softly, taking his hand.

“That’s the happiest part of my tragic backstory, I guess.” He laughed shortly. “Kane’s the reason I didn’t totally lose it. He found me in the hospital, rescued me before they could realize that I shouldn’t have healed as fast or well as I did. He brought me to the house, offered me books and cooking lessons, a new identity.” He paused. “A family.”

Clarke surprised herself by saying, “I’d like to meet them. Your family. They’ll be shifting back when it gets warmer, right?”

“Yeah.” Bellamy managed a smile, getting to his feet and pulling her up after him. “I’d like you to meet them, too.”

School was unfortunately still a necessary evil in Clarke’s life, but now at least Bellamy was there to kiss her good-bye before heading to the bookstore to see if he could turn his standing summer job into a full-time position. (He had high hopes: Indra, the owner, was a longtime friend of Kane’s who never asked questions about their seasonal disappearances.)

Lexa ambushed her as soon as Clarke reached her locker. “Where have you been? And what’s with The Boy you let drive your precious Sonata?” Her tone and cocked eyebrow left Clarke in no doubt as to the extent of her curiosity, or the presence of unconventional capital letters in the second question.

“He’s —” Clarke couldn’t help her grin, and Lexa made a face. “He’s a boy I met. I like him a lot.”

“He’s pretty,” Lexa said in much the same manner she would describe a sunset or rosebush. Mostly dismissive, but with an undercurrent of aesthetic appreciation. “Think he’d model for us?”

“I doubt he could sit still long enough for a painting. A sketch, maybe,” Clarke mused, conveniently leaving out the fact that she’d already filled countless sketchbooks with drawings of her wolf, and several more pages with portraits of the boy he’d become. “Photographs, I don’t know. If he met you…” She nudged her best friend, shooting her a playful side-eye. “You might scare him off.”

“If he scares so easily, he’ll never survive you.”

“You know, I think he’s going to be fine.”

The bell rang just then, and Lexa shrugged. “I’ll take your word for it.”

As they headed into their classes, Clarke caught a glimpse of Raven Reyes leaning against a nearby locker, looking in their direction. The other girl held her gaze for a minute, then turned and walked away.

“How’d it go with Indra?” Clarke asked as she unlocked the front door.

“Great, she said she’s been meaning to give me a promotion anyway. It’s not a huge deal since there’s only like four of us, but it comes with a raise and flexible hours. And she gave me a set of keys to the store.”

“So you can sneak in at midnight to read?”

Leaning down, Bellamy pecked her cheek. “Don’t worry, I’d definitely rather be in your bed. Preferably with you, of course, but —”

She shoved him playfully, then shrieked as he half-tackled her onto the couch. They were both breathless with laughter, and Clarke couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so content.

“You hungry?” she asked, then slapped at his arm in retaliation for the wicked smirk he gave her. “For food, Bellamy. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

Neither of her parents would be back until late, as was usual, so she and Bellamy were free to make a mess of the kitchen. While she pulled the chicken and butter out to defrost, he measured out flour and milk with the ease of practice.

“What?” he asked, smiling, when he caught her watching him.

She shook her head, on the verge of a laugh. (It might be eventually become a problem, if she couldn’t stop grinning so hard just knowing he was around and human and hers. But when it was only the two of them, Clarke had a hard time caring what anyone else might think.) “Nothing, just — I would never in a million years guess that I would one day have a werewolf in my kitchen, making — What are you making?”

“Bread.”

The laugh bubbled over and escaped, and after a moment of playing at affront he joined her.

“But really, why bread?”

His smile faded a little as he addressed the mixing bowl, hands never pausing in their sure, steady movements. “When I was ten, I apparently went through a phase where I would only eat bread. Pike thought it was dumb that it took so many food runs to feed the stupid kid, so he ended up learning how to make it, and he taught me. That was the year before he went missing.”

Clarke came up behind him to wrap her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek against his shoulder blade. “I’m sorry. You must miss him.”

Bellamy shrugged, then reached back to loosen her grip enough to turn and face her. “It’s been a while. Besides, I’m not convinced that crazy bastard was a good influence — he’s also the one who gave me the ‘birds and bees’ talk when I was nine.”

The timer went off, and Clarke reluctantly extricated herself to silence it. On her way back, she turned up the radio and grabbed a cutting board. “Can you make anything besides bread?”

He carefully scraped the last of the dough into the loaf pan before looking up. “Are you offering to teach me?”