Ok so I know every man and his dog has written a fake dating fic but I decided to join the bandwagon. Hope you enjoy!
"Hey, Bellamy, there's someone here to see you," one of Bellamy's fellow waiters told him as he walked by. Bellamy looked at the guy in confusion but he was already heading out to the main dining area, so Bellamy followed him, wondering who could possibly come to his place of work just to see him.
He shouldn't have been surprised though when he walked out to see his best friend Clarke Griffin sitting at a table that most definitely wasn't there before. She looked up and saw him standing there and she smiled and waved him over. Bellamy managed to keep a straight face as he headed over there, though his mouth kept trying to smile back.
"Clarke." Bellamy pursed his lips at the grinning blonde. "Did you seriously just make my boss set up a table especially for you, just so that you could talk to me?"
"Yep!" she beamed. She looked so pleased with herself, sitting at the table that had just been arranged, despite the restaurant being packed out with people who had made reservations a month ago.
"You know if I'd heard about this I would have definitely put a stop to it," he told her sternly.
"Hey, your boss told me I was welcome here anytime," Clarke pouted.
"I know you have a habit of making people fall at your feet, but you're supposed to use your power for good, not evil," Bellamy sighed, a smirk playing across his face though he tried to suppress it.
"It is good! I have something I desperately need to tell you!" she assured him.
"You could've just called me later," Bellamy pointed out. "The food here sucks anyway."
"Don't let your boss hear you say that," Clarke warned. "Besides, I wanted to tell you in person."
"Get to the point, Clarke, I have other tables to serve," Bellamy said exasperatedly, though he was far from annoyed at her. He was too busy thinking how sweet it is that she went to the effort just to see him.
"Okay, well you know how I told you that my mom is dating Marcus Kane. Like, the Marcus Kane. Your favourite author and idol, Marcus Kane?"
"I know who he is, Clarke," Bellamy rolled his eyes. Clarke had been promising him she would find a way for him to meet Kane since her mom told her they were dating. But since Clarke wasn't on the best terms with her mom, and Abby didn't exactly approve of her friendship with the Bellamy, there was no subtle way for Bellamy and Kane to spend any time together.
"Well, I have a great way for you to finally meet him," Clarke informed him proudly. "And spend a whole weekend with him, actually. Plus apparently there's going to be loads of prestigious people there that you can probably network with or whatever."
"Seriously?" Bellamy asked skeptically. He didn't think Clarke would lie to him, but it sounded a little too good to be true.
"Yep! My mom's friend Thelonius Jaha is getting some award so he's celebrating by inviting all his friends to his beach house next weekend."
"I'm not his friend though," Bellamy pointed out.
"But I'm friends with Wells and Mom's friends with Thelonius and she's like begging me to come. Anyway, long story short, I'm invited and I'm inviting you," Clarke smiled. Bellamy got the feeling there was still something she wasn't telling him.
"You're allowed to being friends?" Bellamy asked, still skeptical.
"Well… not exactly," Clarke screwed up her nose, as if this was the part she was dreading telling him. "I'm allowed to bring a boyfriend. Partners only."
"Clarke." Bellamy stared at her, wondering if he'd understood her correctly. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"
"Be my fake boyfriend for a weekend?" she said, her words all running together. Despite her rush to get the words out, Bellamy understood her clearly now.
"No. Absolutely not. No way," he refused adamantly. Clarke was already opening her mouth to change his mind and he knew she'd been well prepared for his refusal.
"Come on! It will be fun!" she pleaded. "It's just one weekend, and you can get Kane to read your stuff and give you tips and maybe give you a leg up when it's ready to be published."
"I really don't think it's a good idea, Clarke," Bellamy said flatly.
"Why not?" she frowned. Obviously she thought it was a great idea and couldn't see any flaws in the plan. Of course, she wouldn't.
Bellamy screwed up his mouth in contemplation. It was very tempting. He knew that if he ever wanted his novel published it was going to need some work, and having someone like Marcus Kane backing him would definitely not be a bad thing.
But he wasn't sure he could pretend to be Clarke's boyfriend for the weekend. But he couldn't tell her why he didn't want to do it, because that would mean revealing how in love with her he was, and that was not happening. She'd rejected him once when they first met and he wasn't stupid enough to try again. Apparently, though, he was stupid enough to agree to her ridiculous charade. After all, he couldn't think of any legitimate reasons against it, and even if he could, Clarke was always able to wear him down.
"Fine," he puffed. He knew he should be more grateful, after all, if was for his benefit that she was suggesting it in the first place. "Can I get back to work now?"
"Yes, and I will have the spaghetti bolognaise please," Clarke grinned. Bellamy shook his head with a smile as he took her order.
Bellamy threw some of his shit together in a suitcase, the following Thursday morning. Clarke had begged his boss to let him have the weekend off and his boss happily obliged since Clarke had everyone she ever met wrapped around her finger.
Everyone, that is, except Octavia.
"This is a dumb idea, Bell," Octavia warned him, sitting on his bed, eating an apple, as he packed his things.
"I didn't ask for your opinion," Bellamy replied, searching through his wardrobe for a beach towel.
"No, but you need it," Octavia snorted.
"Octavia, it's seriously fine. I think I can handle it," he said, much more confidently than he felt.
"Bell, would you just think about this for a second?" Octavia demanded. "How's it going to feel when you spend all weekend holding her, kissing her, sleeping in her bed and then on Monday morning you have to pretend like it never happened? Once you get a taste of being Clarke Griffin's boyfriend, you'll never be able to forget about it."
Bellamy stopped rifling through his things for a moment. He had thought about it. He'd spent all week thinking about it. He knew it was going to be hard, and he'd probably regret it. But Clarke honestly seemed so excited about it and he still couldn't think of a way to let her down that actually made any sense. He didn't answer Octavia and just went back to packing.
"I hope you're not thinking that somehow she's going to magically fall in love with you over the weekend and that she'll realise you were the one all along," Octavia snorted, throwing her apple core into the trash.
"I don't think that," Bellamy replied shortly. Maybe at the beginning, after they'd first become friends, he'd hoped one day she'd change her mind. But now, for the most part, he was happy just being her friend.
"Okay, well, it's your funeral," Octavia shrugged. She was playing nonchalant but he knew his sister was worried about him. It's not like he'd ever told Octavia about his feelings for Clarke, but somehow she knew anyway. It was kind of hard to hide the fact that he hadn't dated anyone for two years. And before that, all his relationships had failed because the girls always seemed to figure out he was always a little bit in love with someone else. It seemed to Bellamy that the only person who couldn't figure it out was Clarke herself. He was just fine with that.
"Okay, so I'm going to introduce you as my boyfriend and don't be surprised if people ask stuff about our relationship," Clarke informed Bellamy as she drove along the coast, closer and closer to Thelonius Jaha's beach house.
"What am I supposed to say?" Bellamy asked.
"I don't know, just make some shit up," Clarke shrugged.
"Shouldn't we have like a story prepared?" Bellamy asked anxiously. He'd been anxious the whole drive and the closer they got to their destination, the more worried he got. He was sure there was no way everyone was going to believe that he and Clarke were actually a couple.
"We'll just wing it," Clarke said flippantly.
"Okay…" Bellamy agreed half heartedly. "Can we just agree on one thing?"
"Mmm?" Clarke responded absentmindedly as she turned into a driveway.
"Let's not be too affectionate, okay? I mean, we're friends and it might make things weird," Bellamy suggested. He'd been thinking about what Octavia said and he knew she was right.
"Alright. How's this; no kissing but we can hold hands and maybe cuddle," Clarke put forth.
"Okay," Bellamy nodded reluctantly.
It was getting late by the time Clarke pulled up by the side of a huge mansion. There were already several other cars parked there, suggesting that a few other guests had already arrived. The two of them got out of the car and Clarke headed towards the front door.
"The housekeeper will get our bags," Clarke said over her shoulder when she noticed Bellamy about to open the trunk of the car.
"Right," Bellamy nodded and followed Clarke. Rich people, he shook his head.
Clarke didn't bother ringing the doorbell, she just waltzed right in with Bellamy trailing uncomfortably behind her.
"And then we ended up playing golf in Portugal!" a man with greasy slicked back hair was saying, while the people sitting around him chortled appreciatively.
"Clarke, you're here!" Abby stood up and came over to her daughter, smiling. She gave Clarke a stiff hug which Clarke didn't return. "And… Bellamy," she turned to Bellamy with a nod. Clarke grabbed Bellamy's hand and Abby's fake smile faltered a little. "We're so glad you're here."
"Great to be here," Clarke lied with a glance at Bellamy. He raised his eyebrows and Clarke turned back to her mother.
"Abby, are you going to introduce us?" asked an old man wearing a pretentious scarf.
"Dante, this is my daughter Clarke and her… boyfriend, Bellamy," Abby side-eyed her daughter as she said the word boyfriend, letting Bellamy know that she certainly did not approve. "Clarke, this is Dante Wallace, that's his son Cage," she gestured to the greasy haired man, looking at Clarke pointedly. "And you know Marcus and Dr. Tsing or course."
"Clarke, it's such a shame you didn't finish your internship with us. I would've liked to see you make it to residency. And please, you can call me Lorelei now," Dr. Tsing smiled, though her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Well, as it turns out I don't want to be a doctor," Clarke replied bluntly.
"Clarke prefers art now," Abby said, as if her daughter had just suddenly one day decided art was her passion, when Bellamy knew that's what she had wanted her whole life. "Just like Dante, actually. But, for Dante it's just a hobby. He's the owner of a very successful medical supplies manufacturing company," Abby hinted.
"Amazing," Clarke said sarcastically, though no one but Bellamy seemed to notice her acidic tone.
"And what do you do, Bellamy?" Cage asked him.
"He's a waiter," Clarke answered for him, gripping his arm a little tighter. "Right, Bell?" She rubbed a hand across his chest, while the other continued to cling to his arm. Bellamy gave her a short look of confusion before turning back to Cage. She rarely called him Bell, and he wasn't sure if chest rubbing was in the list of approved displays of affection.
"Right," Bellamy nodded, trying to ignore Clarke's hands. "But you know, I want to be a writer. I'm working on something at the moment."
"A waiter who wants to be a writer," Cage said scornfully. "How cute." Bellamy felt his blood boil.
"I'm actually a huge fan of your work, Marcus," Bellamy turned his attention away from Cage, trying to remind everyone that they actually had a writer amongst their own and that it wasn't something to look down on.
"Is that so?" Marcus asked interestedly. He seemed about to keep speaking but Abby interrupted him.
"Well, Marcus isn't just a writer," Abby pointed out. "He's also a professor of history at Ark University. Where Clarke studied before she started her internship and Mount Weather Hospital," she took care in reminding Bellamy. Abby knew Bellamy had never done any tertiary education, and in her mind that meant he was beneath her. That plus the fact that Bellamy hadn't been born into money like the rest of them. He clenched his jaw tightly. He glanced at Clarke, wondering why she wasn't saying anything to defend him.
"And your parents?" asked Dante.
"Dead," Bellamy said tersely. If he thought that would gain him any sympathy he was sorely mistaken.
"What did they do before they died?" Cage prodded.
"My mother was a waitress. I never knew my father," Bellamy said through gritted teeth. He wasn't ashamed of his background, but he wasn't happy about being judged by a bunch of rich snobs.
"Thought as much," Cage snickered.
At that moment Thelonius Jaha and his son Wells walked into the room.
"How is everybody?" he said joyfully. "Clarke, you're here! Well that's almost everybody," he nodded.
"Hey, Clarke," Wells walked over to her. "Bellamy," he held out his hand for Bellamy to shake. Bellamy took it, grateful that someone was actually treating him like a human being, though he wasn't a huge fan of Wells. "Want me to show you your room?"
"Doesn't the housekeeper do that too?" Bellamy muttered. Clarke gave him a warning look before turning back to her mother.
"We're going up to our room," she informed Abby. Was it just Bellamy's imagination or did Clarke seem to emphasise the word "our"?
"Wells is taking you?" Abby enquired.
"Yeah, but he'll probably be back down in a minute. Bell and I have a lot of unpacking and… stuff to do. Then we'll probably just go to bed," Clarke smirked.
"Right," Abby nodded, paling at Clarke's words, obviously catching the suggestive nature. Bellamy's mouth formed into a tight line and he refused to look at Clarke at all as Wells led them to their room. Wells tried to make conversation on the way up the stairs, but Bellamy was too angry to speak. He couldn't really even appreciate the beauty of the four poster bed, luscious carpet and expensive artwork on the walls.
"I guess I'll leave you to it," Wells nodded and left the room, shutting the door behind him.
"I don't want to do this," Bellamy said flatly once Wells was out of earshot.
"What's wrong?" Clarke asked, taken aback.
"Why didn't you stick up for me?" Bellamy spat. "They were tearing me to shreds out there!"
"I'm sorry, I-," Clarke tried to apologise.
"Look, I don't need this shit. I'm out," Bellamy cut her off. He grabbed his bag which the housekeeper had obviously brought up at some point.
"Bellamy, please don't go! I'm doing this for you," Clarke pleaded.
"Really? Because it's seems like you're doing it to piss off your mom as much as possible," Bellamy snapped. Clarke silently stared at the floor. "Yeah, that's what I thought."
"I'm sorry, okay? Just please stay!" Clarke begged.
"You really think I want to subject myself to a whole weekend of your mom and her friends constantly reminding me of how I'm not good enough for you?" Bellamy said bitterly. His voice wavered but he managed to keep it together, lest Clarke find out how much it really hurt.
"I know I should have said something, but I thought you could handle it," Clarke explained.
"I shouldn't have to," Bellamy pointed out.
"I know! I'm sorry. Just please stay? My mom keeps trying to get back on my good side while simultaneously trying to get me to date Cage, who I hate even more now that I've met him, or Wells, and go back to my internship with Dr. Tsing. I need you," Clarke said desperately, her eyes pleading. Bellamy looked at her, pretending to weigh up his options, though he knew he was done for once she said she needed him.
"Fine," he put his bag down. "But I don't forgive you."
"Noted," Clarke said. There was a short knock on the door before it burst open and a woman charged in and threw her arms around Clarke.
"Hey bitch, what's up?" she cried. "Long time no see!"
"Raven!" Clarke laughed. Ah, so this was the infamous Raven. Clarke talked about the girl quite a lot, though Bellamy hadn't had the pleasure of meeting her until now.
"Who's the arm candy?" Raven let go of Clarke and nodded towards Bellamy.
"My boyfriend, Bellamy," Clarke introduced.
"Boyfriend Bellamy? Last time we spoke he was just your friend. And you failed to mention his rocking body," Raven laughed. Bellamy could swear he saw Clarke blush just as deeply as he did.
"You don't need to be hearing about anybody else's rocking body but mine," a blonde guy said as he walked into the room, putting an arm around Raven's waist.
"This is Wick," Raven grinned, planting a kiss on Wick's lips. "Clarke and Bellamy," she introduced.
"How insane is this place?" Wick said incredulously. "It's bigger than my whole block back home."
"You're not kidding," Bellamy grinned. Finally, someone who wasn't made of money. Wick and Raven seemed like nice people, unlike the rest of this toxic house.
"This is only my second time here but the first time I could hardly believe my eyes. There's like seventeen bedrooms and every single one has an ensuite. Rich people are crazy!" Raven laughed, and Bellamy found himself joining in, though Clarke looked a little awkward. He knew she didn't like to be reminded she was part of that group of rich people.
"Anyway, we're pretty tired so I think we're going to go to bed," Clarke said.
"Oh, I got you," Raven winked. "I think we're going to do the same."
"Damn right," Wick agreed. Raven turned to him and put her arms around his neck, kissing him, softly at first, and then it wasn't so soft and Bellamy looked away awkwardly, feeling like he was intruding on a private moment.
Clarke cleared her throat to remind Raven and Wick where they were.
"Oh, sorry. We'll see you later," Wick grinned sheepishly. He picked Raven up and threw her over his shoulder as she squealed and giggled all the way to their room, which by the sounds of it was only next door. Clarke shut the door behind them and a tense silence filled the room.
"Do you want to use the bathroom first?" he asked.
"Thanks," Clarke responded. They both used the bathroom before climbing into the king size bed.
"I really am sorry," Clarke whispered in the darkness.
"It's fine," Bellamy answered shortly. He was still mad but he'd get over it. He lay in the dark with his eyes open as they adjusted to the pitch black and he could make out vague shapes in the room. With their backs to each other they were silent except for the sound of their breath and Bellamy wanted to say something but he wasn't sure what. He was still thinking it over when he heard a low moan coming through the wall. Followed by another and another. And then that was followed by a "Oh, god, yes."
"Oh my god," Clarke started giggling.
"Surely not," Bellamy was unable to suppress a laugh as he rolled over onto his back.
"You'd think rich people could afford thicker walls," Clarke sniggered, turning on her side to face him. The sounds of Raven and Wick having sex continued to drift through the wall.
"You'd think," Bellamy agreed. The two of them burst into a fit of laughter, like two school kids in sex ed class when the teacher first says the word "vagina".
"Bellamy, I really am sorry about before. I really did bring you to meet Kane, but I thought I could kill two birds with one stone," Clarke apologized.
"It's okay, Clarke. I just wish you'd told me first. We could've made your mom way more uncomfortable," Bellamy said with a grin.
"And I promise if she or Cage starts being rude again tomorrow I'll stick up for you," Clarke whispered.
"Thanks," Bellamy replied quietly. There was a loud scream from next door and then the room went quiet again.
"I think they're done?" Clarke smirked.
"God, I hope so," Bellamy was still smiling. "Goodnight, Clarke."
"Night, Bell."