Bellamy sat on the couch and sighed, a Stella in one hand and a plate of finger food in the other. He didn't want to be there. He's their fucking boss for God's sake, not their friend. Yeah, he's Miller's friend, but he's also his boss too. It's just another time where he has to keep his distance from Clarke. She's across Monty's apartment talking to Harper and Octavia.

He tries not looking at her, he does, but he can't help it. He also can't help thinking about the burgundy lingerie she sent him a picture of an hour before he arrived. He could have said no, he should have and he should have called her to come over. He's pining after her from across the room and he hates it. He can't touch her here and he wants to touch her, he wants to run his mouth over her soft pale skin and bring her to infinite euphoria.

"Dude, you've been sitting here for an hour, not talking to anyone with this hateful glare over your face," Miller smirked sitting next to him.

"Why am I here? These people work for me."

"These people are just people, Blake. They have feelings and opinions and they want to know you for you because they don't believe me when I tell them that you're actually fun."

"I'm not," he grumbled, forcing down some warm beer holding back a gag.

"You can be if you let loose, but you reserve that for the Princess now, don't you?"

"Shut up, Miller."

"That's usually Murphy, I feel like I've been downgraded."

"Well, you're annoying me like he does."

"God forbid someone tries pulling you out of your comfort zone to make everyone else's lives less worrisome."

"Worrisome?"

"Your wordsmithing has rubbed off on me boss," he smirked.

"I could be reading a manuscript," he sighed.

"Then go. Really, you don't have to be here, Monty and Harper will understand that you have the biggest stick up your ass."

"Miller…"

"Hey," he heard a soft voice say over his shoulder and he looked over and Clarke was leaning over the back of the couch with a smile splaying across her soft, plump lips. "Are you going to sit here alone all night or are you going to get to know any of the people that work for you?"

"Honestly, I'm waiting to take you home."

Clarke chuckled, "Dream on, boss man."

He smirked, "Don't be a pariah talking to the boss."

"The boss was invited as a fun guest and he's neglecting half his title role, put up or get out."

"Don't challenge me, Princess. I'm plenty fun and you know it."

"So show your fun side and let loose," she smiled and Bellamy knew she was drunk the moment her lips landed on his cheek. There was also the sobering effect of everyone in the room whooping as they watched.

"Who'd you tell?"

"There's nothing to tell," she chuckled pulling away and back towards the rest of their coworkers.

He wanted this, he reminded himself, he wanted to see her outside work and their apartments—her apartment—but a party with everyone they work with and his sister was too much too soon and there definitely wasn't enough sober people to make sure that everyone gets home safely.

"Come on, worrywart, pick a drinking game and we'll all play," she called out and the entire room cheered and Bellamy groaned. He's too old for drinking games.

"Griffin," he countered with a stern grimace.

"Blake," she smiled.

"You're going to regret this."

"Not as much as you are," she sang.

"Never Have I Ever… had an affair with my boss," he smirked, eyes steady on her and she scoffed taking a sip along with Miller and Harper and Lincoln… which he didn't need to know.

"Never have I ever done the cinnamon challenge twice in a row on a dare," she countered quickly and Bellamy glared at Miller before taking a drink.

Miller shrugged in response, "They needed to know why I'm friends with you when you have such a stick up your ass and a superiority complex."

Bellamy groaned and looked around for the next person to step up to the plate. Octavia.

"Never have I ever said the same phrase to the same person for a week straight and nothing else."

Bellamy groaned and took another shot. "This just turned into the roast of Bellamy."

Clarke, Octavia and Harper smirked. "You've given everyone a lot of ammunition over the years. We need to humanize you," Harper smirked. "The words of Miller and Octavia aren't enough to convince us you have a soul… or personality."

"Harsh," Clarke smirked and Bellamy glared at her. "Still true," she agreed, eyes locked on his.

"Never have I ever seduced a coworker," Harper said.

Octavia and Lincoln looked to each other and downed a shot. Bellamy, Monty, Emori and Miller joined them and Bellamy glared at Miller in question. Bellamy had Clarke, Monty and Harper. Emori and Murphy used to work together before she started working for Bellamy in HR, but Miller he didn't know.

"Bryan," he said simply and refilled everyone's shot glasses.

"I forgot about him. Sorry."

Miller shrugged, "Never have I ever punched a guy for touching my sister."

Bellamy groaned, "It was more like torture and I've apologized countless times."

"You have?" Lincoln smirked, they've moved past it but it still happened so Bellamy downed his shot apologizing to him again, avoiding Clarke's probing glare. He's sure Octavia told her about it back in college when it happened, but she probably forgot thinking she'd probably never meet Bellamy and yet here she is four years later working for him and… more…


Clarke woke up with a bass drum bumping through her head, groaning she rolled over to get the sun off her face, wondering why her blackout curtains weren't working and her head hit something hard yet soft and she peeked through her eyelashes at what it was. Bellamy's shoulder. She shot straight up out of bed and grimaced at him before noticing that they weren't her burgundy sheets beneath him, they were an oxford blue. Grey vaulted ceiling above them and a balcony out the one wall of windows. How did she—why are they—?

She sat back on the bed, her head hurting too much to think about what happened last night or how they'd gotten there instead of her apartment. They're always at her apartment.

"Our coworkers are evil," he groaned behind her, touching her hand that was holding her upright.

She pulled away without a word. She's in a Stanford t-shirt. His Stanford t-shirt, she went to USC with Octavia. "You've never brought me here before," she said softly. She wasn't hurt exactly, but it was weird that they've been doing this—hooking up or whatever—for a year and she's never seen his apartment.

"I thought it was easier."

"Another one of your walls."

Bellamy sighed behind her and the mattress moved under her and his legs were on either side of her, his fingers tracing her spine over the cotton shirt. "Yes, one of my walls. You deserve better than me."

Clarke sighed, she didn't want anyone other than him. "I know, but it's not what I want."

"What do you want?"

"What happened last night?"

"Everyone roasted each other through Never Have I Ever… I had fun, you pushed me into it and we took an Uber back here because I couldn't remember your address. You passed out and I carried you up and changed you and here we are."

"We didn't…"

"Unconscious isn't my type, babe," he chuckled, kissing her shoulder and it took everything in her power to not turn her head and kiss him.

"So what is your type?"

"You."

Clarke scoffed, "What a line."

"Not a line. I went for anything I thought was attractive before I met you and now I can't see any other woman but you."

"Still corny."

"Corny but true."

Clarke stood and looked down at Bellamy sitting on the bed watching her. "I don't know what to do with you," she shook her head. "I just… you have these impossible mood swings. You're a cocky bastard and an overprotective brother and a sadist and the mom friend and tyrannical boss. There's a ton more that I'm excluding but I never know what Bellamy I'm going to get."

"Clarke…" he sighed, moving to the edge of the bed, taking her hand in his and she couldn't will herself to pull away. "Every version of Bellamy Blake is in love with you. Yeah, I'm a sadist, but I'm also a masochist with you."

"Bellamy," she uttered. "I don't want to live my life on the offensive. Like it's a game that has no winner or loser. I've lived that life, it's how I was raised and it was my last relationship. I want a life I can relax in. I want to come home and make dinner and talk about my day, annoyed or happy. Having my significant other do the same. Some days you walked in the door and demanded sex. No words, you threw me over your shoulder and put me in whatever position in whichever room you chose. It was hot but it's also not okay, what if I didn't want to?"

"You'd tell me. You've told me."

His eyes were pleading, begging for her to tell him that he didn't do the savage act she knew he was thinking about.

"I've told you no when you were savagely fucking me like I was a lowly possession and not a person with feelings. I've never actually said no to sex with you. I'm more afraid of what will cause it to happen."

Bellamy nodded, looking down at the ground to think for a moment, letting Clarke's hand slip from his.

"I will do anything for you, Princess," he said, his head still bowed.

"You'd give up control?" Clarke dared, not completely certain she meant it.

"Yes."