for jensen fan22 who requested something to do with snapchat. sorry this probably isn't really what you wanted but it's all my brain would come up with. hope you like it!
Bellamy is sure last night was one of the best night's he's ever had. Well, he's sure it would be if he could remember any of it. And if he could remember any of it, this raging hangover may even be worth it. As it is though, he remembers nothing and for all he knows what started out as a few drinks with Miller while he's back in town could have turned into the biggest disaster of all time. He'll probably remember later. Right now he needs to go back to sleep and hopefully when he wakes he won't have a pounding headache and the urge to wretch all over his bed sheets.
It's late afternoon when he wakes again, and he's not feeling quite as bad. The headache is still there and he's feeling a little seedy, but at least he doesn't want to throw up anymore. Too bad he still can't remember a thing. Well, he remembers going to the bar and meeting Miller there, and he remembers having a few beers, and then some shots. After that it gets kind of blurry though. He decides to check his phone for clues. He checks Facebook first, but other than Miller checking them in at the bar at around 8:30pm, there's not much activity from last night. Not even a gross selfie. He checks his messages and calls then, and he groans when he sees he'd been texting Clarke. Huge mistake, sober him knows. Only because drunk Bellamy has less of a filter and could have confessed any number of sins to her, the worst being that he's totally in love with her and wants to marry her and have her babies.
He scrolls through the messages and is relieved to find there's nothing too incriminating. A few typos, and she points out he's drunk, but mostly it's just him telling her how Miller is a chicken and won't ask out the guy he likes. Which is rich, coming from him. But Clarke doesn't know that, so the messages he sent are of no concern. It's the ten minute phone call that's worrying.
He doesn't remember calling her, which isn't exactly a surprise. The call was at 2:26am, so it's a little surprising she picked up, considering she told him in her messages that she was going to get an early night because she had to have breakfast with her mother in the morning. There's no messages after the time of the call and no indication of why he might have called her, so he panics a little.
He still has snapchat to check for clues yet though, plus there's still Miller he can ask, so he doesn't message Clarke yet to ask her what he'd said. He's not entirely sure he wants to know. He checks his snapchat story, which is mostly just bad selfies of him and Miller, and one video of him and Miller singing along to a song at the club. Bellamy cringes at his voice and quickly removes the video. He then swipes across to see if he snapped anyone last night, which, great, apparently he snapped Clarke as well as texting and calling her. Could he be anymore desperate?
He sees that she saved the last picture he sent, so in all likelihood it's just a really bad selfie that she intends to embarrass him with on Facebook for his birthday or something. But the phone call still worries him, and he still has no clues as to what he may have said, so he calls Miller.
"Miller," Bellamy says immediately after his friend has answered with a dramatic groan.
"Do you mind? Some people are trying to sleep," Miller says shortly.
"It's four in the afternoon," Bellamy points out.
"Yeah, well you may have ditched at two but I was out until after four," Miller groans some more.
"I went home at two?" Bellamy asks. So, he called Clarke after he was already home.
"Yeah," Miller tells him. "God, you never remember anything."
"Did I say anything about Clarke while I was with you?"
"Did you?" Miller scoffs. "Wouldn't shut up about her. I was trying to get you to hook up with this hot chick that was all over you but you just kept saying how you wanted to make sweet love to Clarke."
"I did not say that," Bellamy scowls.
"It was pretty much that."
"Great, just great," Bellamy huffs. "You've been absolutely no help, as usual."
"Glad I could be of service." Miller hangs up then, and Bellamy is left with the sinking feeling that there's only one thing left he can do, and that's call Clarke herself. Dread feels his stomach as he punches in her number and waits for her to answer.
"Hey," she answers easily.
"Hey," Bellamy gulps. "How are you?"
"I'm fine," she says, sounding a little cautious. "You?"
"Yeah, same," he agrees. He pauses for a moment before gathering up the courage to continue. "So, I called you last night."
"Yeah," Clarke confirms.
"I don't exactly remember… what I said. Was it something bad?"
"Why would it have been bad?"
"I tend to say stupid shit when I'm drunk," Bellamy explains with a nervous laugh. There's a silence on the other end of the phone.
"How about you come over?" Clarke suggests.
"Yeah, okay," Bellamy replies, like he isn't absolutely terrified of what she's going to say. But she wouldn't invite him over if she was offended or mad, right? But then again, if it was nothing why couldn't she just tell him over the phone?
He hangs up and quickly showers and gets dressed before he heads over to her place. She answers the door with a smile on her face, which has to be a good sign, but Bellamy's heart is still beating at an unnaturally fast pace, although that might be partly to do with the fact that she's just wearing a tight tank top and a pair of impossibly tiny shorts.
"So… uh, are you going to tell me what I said? Because I'm starting to get worried," Bellamy says, grinning to try and hide his discomfort as Clarke leads him inside.
"Don't worry, it was nothing bad," Clarke assures him, sprawling on the couch and gesturing for him to join her.
"Then what's with the evasive behaviour?" Bellamy raises an eyebrow as he flops down next to her.
"I'd really like to know what you think you might have said that makes you so worried," Clarke smirks at him. "And then I'll tell you what you really said."
"This feels like a trap," Bellamy screws up his nose.
"Alright, I'll tell you how it started," Clarke relents. "First you said you missed me and that I should come out."
"Okay," Bellamy nods. Sounds like something he'd say sober, so, so far so good.
"Then you told me Miller was trying to hook you up with a girl," Clarke recalls.
"Yeah, he told me that part," Bellamy snorts.
"You said you didn't want to hook up with her and I asked you why," Clarke continues and Bellamy starts to get worried. This is definitely the part where he must have confessed everything. He squeezes his eyes shut as Clarke keeps talking. "You said you couldn't tell me." Bellamy opens one eye.
"Then what?"
"I asked you if you were going to remember any of this in the morning," Clarke says. "You assured me you would not. Which, you seem to have kept that promise."
"Sorry," Bellamy says sheepishly.
"I told you I'd tell you a secret if you told me why you wouldn't hook up with the girl," Clarke recounts. "And you agreed."
"Of course I did," Bellamy mutters.
"Relax, I told you it wasn't anything bad," Clarke assures him with a small smile, and for the first time Bellamy can feel hope blooming in his chest.
"So what did I say?"
"You said you couldn't hook up with the girl because you were thinking about me. That you wanted me and some random girl was never going to be good enough," Clarke tells him softly, and she seems kind of nervous now, like she's expecting him to deny it. He doesn't, of course.
"And what did you say?" Bellamy murmurs.
"I said, 'prove it,'" she grins, and Bellamy rolls his eyes. "And that's when you sent me this," she holds out her phone to show Bellamy a picture, and his mouth immediately goes dry, and he feels his face heat up. Because he's looking at a picture of what can only be his own hard cock. He'd sent her a dick pic.
"Fuck," he swears. "I am so sorry. Seriously, Clarke…" he trails off as he hears her chuckle. "Why are you laughing?"
"Oh god," she stops giggling and her own face turns bright red. "I'm not laughing at it, if that's what you think. It's very… um…" she trails off, turning redder, and she looks so adorable, Bellamy just wants to lean over and kiss her, but that can wait.
"Very what?" he asks.
"I was only laughing because you looked so worried," she says, avoiding the question. "Like you thought you fucked everything up."
"Are you saying I haven't fucked everything up?"
"Quite the opposite," Clarke grins, and Bellamy decides he's had enough waiting, so he leans over and presses his lips softly against hers, kissing her harder when she responds, until she's smiling too much for him to kiss her properly.
"So what was the secret?" he asks her.
"What?"
"You said you'd tell me a secret if I told you why I didn't want to hook up with the girl," Bellamy reminds her. "What did you tell me?"
"Oh," Clarke smiles, turning a little pink, "I said that if you still wanted me in the morning I'd let you do whatever you want to me."
"Is that right?" Bellamy smirks.
"Yeah," Clarke nods. "Also that I'm kind of in love with you."
"Clarke?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm kind of in love with you too."