"The what hop?" Bellamy could already feel his palms beginning to sweat.
"I told you. The bunny hop."
"Now I know you're just dickin' with me, Jasper. There is no dance called the bunny hop."
"Jesus, Bellamy! Will you listen? Our team has this thing almost won. All you and Clarke have to do is last the longest bunny hoppin' around the gym."
Bellamy sighed. He'd always known that sooner or later he'd come to regret agreeing to participate in this insane contest. If the whole thing hadn't been for charity...
"Why the fuck does it have to be me?"
He could hear the whine in his voice but he couldn't seem to help it. Dancing with Clarke was almost certain to involve touching Clarke, and he just wasn't sure he could deal with any more of that tonight.
"Bell!" Octavia hissed. "What the hell is wrong with you! You know what the bunny hop is. We used to do it at parties when I was a kid. And it's your turn. Fuck, I don't even teach at your stupid school and I've done more than anyone else!"
It was true. Jasper had co-opted Octavia onto the West Arkadia High team as a semi-ringer. She wasn't actually on the faculty, just the cheerleading coach, but somehow that had been enough to pass muster with the event coordinators. And she was right. She'd won the pie-eating contest and the darts match, and had come in a close second at a "Whack-a-Teacher" version of "Whack-a-Mole" that Bellamy hadn't wanted to investigate too closely.
Jasper himself had done well enough at water balloons and Frisbee to grab some points, and had then worked with Clarke on a giant spuming volcano that had brought them the top score for performance art.
Whereas so far, Bellamy had competed only in the trivia contest. And while he'd racked up a decent number of points he hadn't even won that.
Still, they seemed to have done well enough overall so that now the only thing standing in the way of their team winning the whole damn thing - and grabbing all that prize money to help support the homeless - was this dumb dance contest.
When Octavia shifted her weight to one foot and began tapping her toe, Bellamy knew he was in for another lecture.
"You know, big brother, instead of just knowing about stuff, like all that crazy shit that no one gives a crap about, maybe you could try doing something. Even if it's just the damn bunny hop!"
"I do plenty!" he hissed. "Maybe I'm just not into, uh, hopping..."
"Shh!" Jasper muttered quickly. "Clarke's coming back. Come on, Bellamy, are you gonna do your part or not?"
"All right, fine," he said, capitulating suddenly, distracted by the smiling Clarke who was returning to the group after stowing away their winning art project.
In an instant, Octavia's face had morphed from belligerent to beaming, and she high-fived Jasper smugly.
"Excellent! I knew you'd see the light," she said, poking Bellamy in the ribs.
"What? Bellamy saw the light about something?" Clarke teased, joining the others. "I always thought he was pretty stubborn."
Damn! When her eyes glinted up at him in laughter, Bellamy was more of a goner than ever.
For months now, he'd had to deal with this stupid crush that had plagued him ever since Clarke Griffin joined the faculty. He'd known right from the beginning, of course, that he didn't stand a chance. Clarke had had either a boyfriend or a girlfriend ever since he'd known her. So after a while, when he still hadn't been able to shake the damn crush, he'd focused instead on controlling it.
It was easiest during the school day. A few minutes here in the teachers lounge...a couple minutes there in the parking lot...and then he could make himself scarce. Until lately. Lately, it felt like Clarke had suddenly joined his friend group, because he wasn't just running into her at school. Instead, she seemed to be everywhere he went!
Like this asinine contest! Not once, the entire time he'd been trying to talk Bellamy into participating, had Jasper mentioned that Clarke Griffin would be part of the West Arkadia team.
Not even fucking once.
And now, after several hours in her company, Bellamy couldn't seem to stop smiling. His whole damn face was starting to hurt, and he felt like an idiot.
"Bellamy has seen the light and finally agreed to start pulling his weight," Jasper explained to Clarke. "The two of you are going to be our entrants into the final event."
"Oh, and what's that, Captain Jasper, sir?" Clarke inquired, saluting smartly, her short blond hair gleaming in the overhead lights.
"A dance contest."
"Oh, that sounds like fun," she enthused, much to Bellamy's shock. He'd been so damn sure she wouldn't want to do it either.
"Yeah?" he said, his face breaking into a smile for the thousandth time that evening. "You think?"
Clarke shrugged, her eyes glinting up at him strangely. "Sure, why not?"
"This is awesome." Jasper said excitedly. "You guys are even wearing matching clothes! Like it's a costume or something. Like it was planned!"
For the first time that night, Bellamy thought about what he'd put on his back. It was a casual event, professional dress not required, so he was wearing black pants and a t-shirt, with a black overshirt. Comfortable clothes. And Clarke was wearing... nearly the exact same thing. Except where his t-shirt was light, hers was dark.
But they had no time to ponder this amazing coincidence in attire because the emcee for the evening had begun shouting for quiet.
"We've come to the last event event of the night, folks. The dance contest. It's been a great competition, but it looks like it's come down to a tight race between the teams from South Arkadia and our hosts for the night, West Arkadia. They're separated by only a few points. So it's all going to be up to the dancers."
He glanced around the room dramatically. "So where are our contestants?"
Jasper pushed Bellamy and Clarke towards the center of the gym.
"Go ahead, guys. Time to shake your booties!"
The crowd in the bleachers and the stragglers lining the walls cheered as dance duos from each of the four Arkadia high schools stepped forward onto the gym floor. Bellamy took special note of the pair from South Arkadia, the only ones who had amassed enough points to threaten their victory.
The South dance team also consisted of a man and a woman, and when they moved into the main part of the gym, the guy twirled his partner under his arm like they were on Dancing with the Stars or some other shit show that Bellamy would never waste time watching.
Smug bastards!
Right then, Bellamy told himself that he and Clarke were going to win this damn thing — or die trying.
How the hell hard could a dance called the bunny hop be, anyway?
He reached over and grabbed Clarke's hand without thinking, and her face lit up with a smile. The emcee began to explain the rules.
"You folks might think you remember the bunny hop from when you were a kid, but what we have here is a slightly different version. We can't have a long line of dancers because we need to keep our contestants separated, right? And besides," he smirked up at the audience, "that would make the whole thing way too easy."
Bellamy frowned. He had a sudden bad feeling about what might be coming next.
"So instead, our dancers are going to hop in duos. But since the point of the dance is to hold onto reach others' hips, they'll have to find a way to do that, too. While both facing in the same direction. So...while one of the pair can reach forward, the other will have to stretch waaaay back to grab onto their partner's hips."
The crowd laughed in anticipation as Bellamy tried to picture it. He could certainly put his hands on Clarke's hips, he thought, trying not to hyperventilate at the idea, but as for the rest...
"Let's try it," she said, quickly moving in front of him.
Bellamy brought his hands to Clarke's hips, praying his palms wouldn't start sweating again, while in the background, the school band began to play the bunny hop music.
"Here's the song, guys, so get yourselves set up," the emcee advised.
And as soon as the music started, Bellamy did remember it. From a dozen kid parties that Octavia had thrown or attended.
Dah-da-da-da-da. Dah. Dah. Dah. Dah-da-da-da-da. Hop, hop, hop!
That's right! The legs kicked out to the side and then the whole thing finished with a couple of forward hops. And everything would have been great and fine and a fucking piece of cake if only Clarke's arms had been long enough to reach back and grab onto his hips.
But they weren't.
No matter how close he got to her...and he tried really, really hard not think about being so close... Clarke wasn't able to hang onto him.
"Let's try it the other way," he suggested. "My arms are a lot longer and your torso is a lot smaller."
She nodded, moving behind him and holding onto his waist, while he reached behind him to grab onto her hips.
"If you could just maybe move a little closer, I could get a better grasp..."
"Sure," she said, her voice sounding a little strained as she grabbed at him.
And suddenly, her hips were aligned with his, and her generous breasts were crushed into his back, and Bellamy was beginning to wonder if he'd even be able to breathe, let alone dance. But the music was starting again, and Jasper was pushing them to their starting spot a quarter way around the floor.
"Are you okay?" he whispered to Clarke, twisting his head slightly as he reached back and tightly clutched her hips.
"Yeah," she said, and when she spoke her breath fluttered across his neck and her lips grazed along his back. "Let's get this thing won."
Dah-da-da-da-da. Dah. Dah. Dah. Dah-da-da-da-da. Hop, hop, hop!
It took them a moment to find the right rhythm, but pretty soon they were dancing like they'd been joined at the hip forever, instead of just for the past five minutes.
The team from North Arkadia broke first, two girls who were giggling so hard that it was a wonder they'd managed to make it even halfway around the gym. They fell in a heap before the last turn, and Clarke and Bellamy had to hop around them to avoid a collision of their own.
The East Arkadians succumbed next, their legs getting tangled together as they tried to negotiate the turn at the far end of the gym.
And then if was just the top two teams. Kicking. Swaying. Hopping.
Dah-da-da-da-da. Dah. Dah. Dah. Dah-da-da-da-da. Hop, hop, hop!
"Hey, you're pretty good at this," Clarke whispered in his ear. "You have a natural rhythm. Or at least with me," she added.
Bellamy worked desperately to steer his mind away from every other rhythmic activity he'd like to engage in with Clarke Griffin, throwing every ounce of mental concentration into not thinking about the feel of her ams around him, or the softness of her curves as they nestled along his back. Or her warm breath on his cheek.
But it was hard going.
Which is maybe why he didn't notice at first. When the tempo picked up and his legs had to start moving faster and faster.
"Shit," he gasped, as the tempo continued to increase.
Dahdadadadahda. Dahdahdah. Dahdadadadahda. Hophophop!
"It's okay, Bellamy," Clarke whispered desperately from behind him, as she struggled to keep up. "Just keep going. Try to think of it like ... picking up the pace just before you climax."
And that did it. That was his breaking point. Bellamy came undone as the mental images of Clarke and climax coalesced in his brain. His foot slipped out of rhythm, and he knew he was about to stumble, trip, and fall, and that when he did, he'd be bringing Clarke with him.
Dammit! He really hated losing!
And then, out of the corner of his eye, he watched as if in slow motion as the slick smug bastards from South Arkadia fell in a heap with a loud thwacking sound. But Bellamy had no time to savor the moment. His legs flew out from under him, his arms flailed, and perhaps ten seconds after their opponents fell, Bellamy hit the gym floor. He just managed to twist his body in time so that Clarke, instead of falling onto the floor, fell squarely across his body.
He knew he should be in pain, but he could feel none at all.
Clarke Griffin lay spread-eagled on top of him and he could feel every sexy curve. Her face was only inches away, and she was looking at him with an expression he'd never seen before. One that had him fighting for breath.
"Are you okay?" he watched as she whispered the words, her lips so close to his own.
He nodded, muttered. "I think so."
"Good," she said, scrambling off him and holding out her hand to help him up. "Come on," she said as soon as he was on his feet, pulling him towards the gym door.
Bellamy heard the applause thundering behind him, as well as Jasper's frantic, "Wait! Where are you going? We won!" But nothing halted Clarke's forward progress. And as long as she had hold of his hand he was going to be along for the ride.
And never in a million years would he have considered letting go of that hand.
"Where are we going?" he asked finally, after they'd first cleared the gym corridor and then left the school building behind.
"Not far," she said, heading up the hill towards the sports fields and the permanent grandstands.
When she reached the bleachers, Clarke ducked behind them, finally stopping and gazing around at their dark silent surroundings. "I think this is far enough."
"For what?"
"For this."
And then she was kissing him, and Bellamy could think of nothing else besides the feel of her mouth and the scent of her hair. The softness of her skin.
"What are you doing?" he asked, when they finally broke apart, gasping.
"I'd think that might be kind of obvious."
"Okay, then why are you doing it?"
Clarke frowned. "That should be pretty obvious, too, Bellamy. I mean, you have been kissing me back."
"Yeah, but that's because I'm so fucking crazy about you."
Her frown turned into a brilliant smile.
"Then I think you have your answer."
XXXXXXXXXX
Bellamy and Clarke hunkered down at Bellamy's place for the rest of the weekend. They acknowledged Jasper's message that they'd won with a string of self-congratulatory emojis, but absolutely refused to join him at their favorite bar for a victory celebration, putting him off until the following weekend.
Although Clarke expressed some guilt over this.
"We really should be thanking him," she told Bellamy, as they lay naked and sated in his bed. "I told him I'd do the contest, but only if he could talk you into doing it, too."
She laughed when he gaped at her, and Bellamy wondered how he could possibly have been so oblivious.
The following Monday, they took pains to arrive at school separately, and only met up in the parking lot. But they needn't have bothered. In the hallway just across from the main door, their brand-new trophy had been added to the trophy case.
But that was not all. An enlarged photograph of Bellamy and Clarke sprawled across the gym floor took pride of place right next to the trophy. And above both hung a banner which proclaimed, to Bellamy's confusion, "BELLARKE RULES!"
"Bellarke?" he mused to no one in particular. "What the heck is that?"
A student standing behind him provided the answer.
"That's you, Mr. Blake. You and...Ms. Griffin. Mr. Kane thought it was, uh, funny and said we could leave the picture and banner up for one day."
She hurried off then, her face pink with embarrassment.
"What the hell does she mean?" he muttered under his breath as he and Clarke walked down the hallway to their classrooms.
Clarke sighed. "It's our names, Bellamy. Bellamy and Clarke, so...Bellarke."
Bellamy gawked. Then frowned.
"Don't you think it shows a lack of respect that they used our first names in that...uh...mashup? I mean, we're teachers here, and..."
Clarke's sudden peal of laughter rang down the corridor.
"Bellamy, there's a huge picture of us all tangled up together on the gym floor, and it's prominently displayed in the front foyer of this school." She grinned. "Are you really worried about the kids using our first names?"
He laughed suddenly at the absurdity of it.
"Maybe not," Bellamy conceded, shaking his head. "Although I wish they'd used another picture. I really thought I was getting pretty good at the bunny hop."
