AN: Moving on with the next chapter, hope you guys like it! Slightly longer than the previous ones, but I hope you don't mind ;) As always, I don't own anything relating to The 100, and a big thanks to my beta Liz :)
Chapter title from "Iris" by The Goo Goo Dolls, same as the last one, since I feel like they're sort of one long chapter split in two
Please see the end of the chapter for warnings!
10
And All I Can Breathe Is Your Life
Clarke watches as Bellamy brings the food over to the table, before going back around the kitchen counter and returning with two ladles and a corkscrew.
"You open the wine, I'll light the candles?" she asks, and he nods. "Do you have matches or a lighter?"
He opens a drawer in the counter and rummages around among bits of string, keys and rubber bands for a moment before producing a box of matches, which he hands her.
"Want to start with red or white?" he asks as she strikes a match and holds it to the wick of the first candle.
"Hmm… I want to say that there's some rule about white wine with white meat, but I honestly have no idea," she replies, moving the match to the second candle. "Let's go with white."
"Sounds good," he agrees, stripping the foil off the cork. "And I was going to make hot fudge chocolate pudding cake for dessert, red probably works better with that than white."
"I'm sorry, hot fudge chocolate pudding cake?" Clarke asks, feeling her mouth watering at the mere thought.
"Yeah," he replies, pulling out one of the chairs for her. "I wasn't sure what to do, but then I remembered your motto about chocolate."
"That sounds absolutely heavenly," she says as Bellamy rounds the table and sits down across from her.
"I've never made it before, so I make no promises," he warns her. "It could end up a complete disaster. But it looked great, so hopefully it'll taste just as good."
"I'm sure it will."
"Go ahead," he says, nodding at the food. "Ladies first. Or guests first, whichever one you prefer."
The chicken is cooked to perfection, and the spice that the sauce brings to the dish really complements it. They eat for a moment in silence, but then Clarke feels his eyes on her and looks up.
"So?" he asks, eyebrows raised.
"This is amazing," she assures him after swallowing down the mouthful she'd just taken. "Seriously, I've had chicken in restaurants that didn't taste half as good as this."
"Good," he says, looking relieved. "And it's not too spicy? I mean, I did say that I put jalapeños in it when we were talking about it the other day, and you didn't say anything about it at the time, and I didn't think that you might not want it too spicy until after I had added them, so…"
She can't help but smile at his rambling and lets him continue until he trails off. "I love spicy food, don't worry. It's perfect."
"OK, good."
They keep talking food as they eat, discussing their favorite cuisines – Clarke is currently on a Mongolian spree, though she also has a soft spot for Mexican, while Bellamy has only recently discovered an Indonesian restaurant close by and swears by their soto padang soup.
By the time Clarke spears the last bit of chicken on her fork and pops it in her mouth, the wine is gone and she's so full she's seriously starting to regret her choice of leggings.
"Oh my God, I can't get one more bite down," she announces, dropping the fork and leaning back in her chair.
Bellamy chuckles. "So should we just skip the dessert, or…?"
She raises an eyebrow at him. "There's always room for chocolate."
He shakes his head, amused. "My sister used to say that about ice cream, but I don't think I've ever heard it about chocolate before."
"Oh, it totally applies to chocolate too," she confirms, pushing her chair back and grabbing her now empty plate. "Any desserts or snacks, really."
"Hey, no, I've got it," Bellamy says, immediately jumping to his feet and taking the plate from her.
"I might not be good at cooking, but I can still carry dishes from the table," she replies drily. "It's not like vampires and churches or something, I don't bounce off an invisible barrier when I get within five feet of a stove."
"No, it's not that, I just… you really don't have to help, I'm just putting everything in the dishwasher."
"And if I help, it'll be faster, and there will be chocolate sooner," Clarke reasons, picking up the rice bowl while he places their plates on the kitchen counter.
He considers her for a moment. "OK, fine, I'll start loading the dishwasher, you grab the rest."
"Thank you."
It only takes one more round, since it's just the bowl with the chicken left, and within a minute, Bellamy's closing the dishwasher and moving to the stove again.
"It shouldn't take long to whip this up, why don't you go in the living room and find something on Netflix for us to watch while I do this?" he suggests, leaning down to extract a plastic mixing bowl from a cupboard. "It's supposed to go in the oven for about half an hour, so it'll be a little while."
"Or I could keep you company," she retorts, climbing onto the same stool she occupied before they ate. When he gives her a suspicious look, she raises her hands. "I promise I'll stay on this side of the counter."
"OK, fine," he surrenders, turning to open a cupboard that apparently works as a pantry. He finds the ingredients he needs and puts them down on the counter before pulling his phone out of his pocket and unlocking the screen. "I downloaded the recipe," he explains.
It's nice to watch him work, he's obviously very at home in the kitchen and never hesitates about where something is. Before long, he's sliding the pan into the oven and closing it before straightening up.
"Right, now we just have to wait for 35 minutes or so and it should be done."
"Enough time for another glass of wine and maybe agreeing on something to watch," Clarke concludes, sliding down from the stool.
She's only had three glasses of wine, which isn't that much considering how much she's eaten, and she doesn't feel drunk in any way, but she still stumbles when her feet hit the floor, her hand going out to grab the counter. Instead, Bellamy's hand closes around her wrist, holding her steady.
"You OK?"
When she looks up to respond, she finds that he's much closer than she thought, just inches away, and for a moment, as their eyes lock, all words elude her.
She can tell that he's having the same kind of reaction she is, his pupils dilating and his lips falling apart slightly. But he releases her and takes a step back, so she clears her throat.
"Fine. But maybe just one more glass of wine for me, or I'll be the one getting drunk," she half-jokes.
"We wouldn't want that," he says, placing one hand on the small of her back to usher her out of the room. "Grab the glasses, I've got the bottle and corkscrew."
She obediently brings the two glasses with her into the living room, where she puts them down on the coffee table. Bellamy opens the bottle of red and pours some in both glasses, though barely filling them to a third. She decides to really take it easy on the wine from now on, because she has a sneaking suspicion that he'll be afraid of taking advantage of her if he thinks she's too drunk, and she really doesn't want that.
He puts his phone on the table as well, and she sees that he has the timer counting down for the cake in the oven, before sitting down next to her on the couch, not quite as close as she would have liked, but they can work on that.
"Anything you feel like watching?" he asks as he turns the TV on and starts up Netflix.
"Anything but sci-fi," Clarke replies. "Had enough of that last night."
He chuckles a little at that and hands her the remote. "Pick something."
She flips down the page aimlessly, stopping when she gets to a recent thriller that she's been meaning to check out. "Have you seen this?"
When he shakes his head, she hits play and leans back on the couch, putting the remote down between them.
She has some trouble focusing on the screen, Bellamy's presence just a few inches away from her extremely distracting. Every time he moves, she catches herself glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, and for the first time since they met, really, the room is charged with an almost tense energy.
Clarke's done her share of dating, sure. But with her longer term partners, the relationships have always grown out of friendship, and even the Norms she's had more than a one-time thing with in the past have usually started as hook ups and then evolved into dating or some sort of arrangement involving sex.
She's never actually been on a date like this before, where she's not sure where things are going, not totally comfortable sliding closer and leaning her head on her date's shoulder.
She's not completely convinced she likes it.
Right, she needs to get her nerves under control.
"Can I use the bathroom?" she asks, turning from the screen to face Bellamy.
"Of course." He hits pause on the movie. "It's… well, you saw where it is earlier. There are clean towels on the shelf above the toilet."
"Got it," she says with a smile as she gets up. "Be right back."
Once she's closed the bathroom door behind her, she leans against the wood and takes a deep breath.
The bathroom's nice and, more importantly, spotless. To her right is a large, walk-in shower – she would guess there used to be a bathtub at some point, possibly removed once Miller's grandfather got older, for easier access – straight ahead is a toilet with a shelf above it with a bunch of the promised clean and fluffy towels, and to her left is a vanity, built into an alcove in the wall. She turns the tap on cold, letting the water run for a moment as she scrutinizes herself in the mirror that takes up the entire wall behind the vanity. Her cheeks are a bit rosier than normal, and she can feel her heart beating too fast in her chest.
"OK, get a grip," she tells herself quietly, leaning toward the mirror to give herself a stern look, her hands on the counter next to the sink. "There's nothing to be nervous about, it's just a date with a guy that you know is into you. So what if nothing happens tonight? You've got time… OK, not all the time in the world, but still. There's no immediate rush. You do not need to get laid tonight."
Oh, but she wants to…
She would love to splash some water on her face, but she doesn't want to ruin her makeup, so she settles for running some over her wrists before leaving the room again.
Bellamy looks up when she enters the living room, a smile tugging the corner of his mouth up. She notes that he still has the remote in his hand, and that his other arm is stretched out along the back of the couch, behind her previous spots. She takes this as encouragement and sits down closer to him than before, not quite pressed up against him but still close enough that she feels the heat from his body all along her side, and leans back against his arm. He slides it down from the couch and wraps it around her shoulders loosely and immediately, the slight awkwardness from a little earlier is gone.
He starts the movie again, but Clarke still has trouble following along with the plot, instead preoccupied with the way his fingers move against the skin on her upper arm, just below the edge of her short sleeve, the way his breath makes a few strands of her hair move every time he exhales.
When the timer on Bellamy's phone goes off, she jumps a little, earning a chuckle from him.
"Time for dessert," he notes, voice a little rough. He clears his throat as he pulls his arm from around her and stands up.
I wouldn't mind a different kind of dessert, Clarke thinks, but of course doesn't say. She gets up too and follows him back into the kitchen, where he pulls the pan from the oven and puts it down on the counter. A wonderful chocolatey smell fills the room and she almost licks her lips in anticipation.
"There's ice cream in the freezer," he tells her. "I got vanilla specifically for this, but I think there's rocky road too, and maybe chocolate fudge brownie, if you want a real chocolate overdose."
She pulls the freezer door open with a laugh. "I might like chocolate, but that's too much, even for me. Vanilla is perfect."
She finds the ice cream and puts it down on the counter next to a tray that Bellamy's produced from somewhere. He's putting some of the cake in two bowls and spooning the gooey sauce in the bottom of the pan over it. "Enough?" he asks, holding out one of the bowls for her.
"More than enough," she replies, glancing at the pan. "Did you split it down the middle or something? I'm pretty sure that's supposed to be more than two servings."
Bellamy just shrugs and scoops some ice cream into both bowls before placing them on the tray. "I doubt it'll taste as good tomorrow, so we might as well eat what we can now."
She shakes her head amusedly as she puts the ice cream back in the fridge and then follows him back into the living room, accepting one of the bowls before sitting back down on the couch.
The first spoonful makes the flavors explode in her mouth and she has to hold back a moan. "Oh my God, this is amazing," she exclaims when she's swallowed. "And I've explored New York's chocolate scene extensively, so I know what I'm talking about."
Bellamy laughs. "I'll take that as a compliment, then. I have to admit, it is good. I'm not usually that big on chocolate, but this might just convert me…"
Try as she might, though, there's no way Clarke can finish the whole bowl, and there's still about one third left of the cake when she finally surrenders, though she's finished the ice cream.
"OK, I admit defeat," she announces, putting the bowl down on the table and letting out a big breath.
"I thought you said there was always room for chocolate?" he says with a chuckle.
"I was wrong," she admits. "If I eat any more I might actually be sick, and nobody wants that."
"Well, in that case, I'm calling it too," Bellamy says, letting his spoon clatter down in the bowl and putting it down next to hers. "It was amazing but I think next time I'll have to save some room and not eat as much dinner."
The mention of next time, though it can definitely be interpreted in connection with the chocolate cake and not her, causes a warm tingle in Clarke's stomach and she turns a little on the couch so she can look straight at him without having to turn her head.
"That sounds like a good plan," she agrees, eyes falling on some chocolate on his cheek, right next to the corner of his mouth. "You have a little…" She gestures at the spot, and he sticks his tongue out, trying to lick it off.
"Did I get it?"
She shakes her head, reaching over to wipe the chocolate off with her thumb. When she withdraws her hand, she sees him follow it with his eyes and without thinking too much about it, instead of wiping it off on her napkin, she sticks her thumb in her mouth and sucks the chocolate off.
Bellamy's eyes lock on hers as she does, midnight dark and blazing, and she feels her own heartbeat pick up.
She's not sure who makes the first move, but a split second later, they both surge forward, colliding in the middle with a clash of lips and teeth. It's a little awkward for a short moment, but then he slides a hand into her hair, tilting her head a little to the side, and they both moan as she parts her lips for him, letting him deepen the kiss.
They kiss like that for what feels like hours, but eventually, Clarke's neck starts to complain at the odd angle, and she desperately wants to get closer, so she pushes against his chest to get him to move backwards on the couch. He does, pulling her along, and after some maneuvering – she doesn't want to break the kiss but it's tricky – she manages to move so she has one leg on either side of his hips, straddling him on the couch.
He wraps one arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest, the other hand resting lightly against her hip, and she in turn buries her fingers in his hair, earning a groan as she drags her nails lightly against his scalp.
She really needs to catch her breath, though, so reluctantly, she pulls away a little, looking down at him. The slightly wrecked look on his face, pupils dilated, lips open and slightly bruised from their kisses, goes straight to her core and she grinds down against his lap, feeling the effect she's having on him.
"Fuck, Princess, you have any idea what you're doing to me?" he gets out through gritted teeth, nosing at her chin until she lifts her head to give him better access to her throat.
"I think, oh God…" She trails off for a moment when he latches on to a sensitive spot right below her ear. "I think I might."
Bellamy growls, actually growls, low in his throat and she feels his fingers hesitating at the hem of her top before slipping under it. His hand is large and warm against her back, and she moans at the combination of that and his teeth lightly grazing the junction between her neck and shoulder.
She inwardly curses her choice to wear these pants – the material is thin, and she can feel every inch of him through them, but they're not exactly easy to get off in this position. The skirt she discarded would have been much more… practical in this situation.
Bellamy seems happy enough to stay where they are, though, at least for the moment, his hand sliding up and down her spine, sending shivers through her. He trails wet, open mouthed kisses back up her throat and then down again, continuing past her collar bone to the swell of her breasts, right above her neckline, and she can't help but arch her back against him when he sucks a bruise into the sensitive flesh there. He keeps going a moment later, and when she feels the wet warmth of his mouth over her nipple through the material of her top and bra, she doesn't even try to hold back the whine that rises up in her throat.
It feels like the blood in her veins is on fire, and she desperately wants to get closer, so when he pulls away slightly, she immediately tugs him up for another kiss. She releases her grip on his curls to pull the front of his shirt free of his jeans, and slides both hands up his stomach. His abdominal muscles twitch at her touch, and his fingers dig into the flesh on her hip for a moment before abandoning it completely. A second later, she feels his hand tangle in her hair, pressing her impossibly closer.
She lets her hands wander as high as they can get, but the shirt limits her movements considerably, so with a huff, she instead starts trying to unbutton the top button, to get the shirt off completely.
When he realizes what she's doing, Bellamy breaks the kiss and pulls back so he can look up at her. Clarke frowns in disappointment, but takes the opportunity to finally get the button she was working on undone and continue with the next one.
"You sure?" he asks, voice rough and breath matching hers, just as she gets the second button undone and moves onto the next. "There's no rush, that's not… I didn't…"
She cuts him off with another, shorter, kiss.
"Relax," she tells him with a smile. "I know you didn't have some sort of master plan to get me into bed, OK?"
He looks relieved
"Good. I mean, not that I don't want to… obviously, I just don't want you to think that…"
"Bellamy?" He immediately snaps his mouth shut and nods. "Stop talking."
He does, pulling her down and putting his mouth to better use instead.
Clarke has finally gotten the last of the shirt buttons undone, and he leans forward so she can push the garment off his shoulders before he pulls his arms out of the sleeves and immediately wraps them around her again. One hand slips back under her top and continues north until he reaches her bra, which he gets undone with impressive speed.
She can't get the bra off without either taking the top off first, or doing the little under-the-shirt routine to get the straps off her shoulders. Still, since it's no longer clasped in the back, it's not as tight anymore, which Bellamy takes immediate advantage off by pulling down her top and the cups of her bra, palming her right breast in his hand while his lips close around her left nipple.
"Oh, fuck," Clarke manages to get out at the feel of his teeth grazing the hardening bud. The sensation travels through her entire body, and she presses herself closer to him, desperate for some friction.
He hums against her breast, his hot breath fanning across her already overheated skin, and slides his right hand around her waist, hesitating for just a split second before slipping it into her pants and underwear, squeezing her butt.
She lets the sensations take over, her head falling back and lips parting slightly, and for a long moment, the only thing in the entire world is Bellamy, his hands and mouth on her, the wonderful though not completely satisfactory friction as she rocks slowly against him, the muscles of his shoulder flexing underneath her hand and his hair curled around her fingers. It's sensory overload in a way she's never experienced before.
When his lips leave her breast – minutes, hours later? Clarke really can't tell – she's about to object, but then he kisses his way up her throat, eventually reaching her lips. She moans into his mouth as he deepens the kiss, their tongues battling lazily with each other.
Getting more and more impatient, she reaches between them and quickly gets the button and zipper of his jeans undone. At the same time, he pushes the hem of her top up, and they break the kiss briefly so he can pull it all the way off. She lets the straps of her bra slide off her arms and tosses it aside before leaning down once more.
She feels Bellamy's hand, big and warm, slide down along her spine and then around to her ribcage, the other hand joining it on its journey up, and a moment later, he swallows her gasp as he tweaks both her nipples at the same time. In retaliation, she slips one hand into his jeans, cupping him through the material of his boxers, squeezing lightly, and is rewarded with a hiss. His hands abandon her breasts and he hooks two fingers in her leggings, pulling them down.
He doesn't get far, of course, and when he can't get any further, he pulls away from her, a small frown on his face.
"Yeah, that's not going to work," Clarke says breathlessly, a little impressed that she can actually string together a complete sentence right now. "Maybe move this somewhere else?"
Bellamy shakes his head, though she's pretty sure it's not a no, more a way to clear his mind a little. "Good idea."
She half-reluctantly climbs off him, swaying a little when she's upright. He notices, of course, and reaches out to steady her as he gets to his feet himself. Clarke uses his grip on her wrist to pull him along towards the hallway, but they don't get far before he spins her around, pulling her flush against him again and kissing her, hard. He's leaning down, so she doesn't have to stretch up to be able to wrap her arms around his neck, which is a relief when he starts maneuvering her backwards.
Somehow, they make it into the hallway without breaking the kiss or knocking into something. Instead of continuing through the door to his bedroom, though, Bellamy pushes her up against the wall just outside. He pulls away slightly, giving her a smirk that can only be described as devious, and then drops to his knees in front of her. This time, he's successful in pulling her leggings, and underwear, off, and she steps out of them when they pool around her ankles.
She expects him to get back to his feet, hopefully remove the rest of his own clothes and finally, finally fuck her, but instead, he drapes one of her legs over his shoulder and presses his lips against her stomach, just below her bellybutton.
"Bellamy," she half-whines, not sure what she actually wants. Her hips jerk against him of their own free will, and she buries her hand in his curls.
"Just want to taste you, Princess," he murmurs against her thigh, sending shivers of anticipation through her entire body. "Can I?"
"Please, please."
He doesn't heed her pleas right away, instead kissing and nibbling his way along her inner thigh, almost reaching the spot where she wants him most before switching to the other thigh. Just as Clarke opens her mouth again to beg him to stop teasing her, he finally does, his tongue sliding along her slit before circling her clit.
"Yes, fuck, like that," she pants, fingers probably painfully tight around his curls, her head falling back against the wall.
He hums against her sex, which makes her gasp, and then repeats the motion.
It doesn't take him long to get her to the edge – she was already really keyed up – but he doesn't let her tumble over it right away.
"Please, I need… I need…" she babbles when she's right there for the third time.
To her frustration, he actually pulls away completely, but before she can do anything, he slips two fingers inside her, curling them just perfectly, and sucks her clit into his mouth.
She falls apart with a cry, the leg that's hooked over Bellamy's shoulder locking him in place. The orgasm washes over her in waves, and after a moment, the only reason she's upright is that he has her pressed against the wall.
When she finally comes down, he's placing feather-light kisses against her thighs, stomach, hips. Clarke draws in a deep, shuddering breath and untangles her hand from his hair, letting it fall to his shoulder instead.
He looks up at her, an almost smug smile on his face. Which, OK, he has earned. "Good?" he asks, voice pitched low.
"Like you don't know," she says, though her breathless voice makes it less of a grumble than she was going for. Bellamy chuckles against her stomach, squeezing her thigh before lowering her leg back to the floor.
He rises to his feet in one fluid motion, his hands sliding up her sides, and leans down to kiss her. She can taste herself on his lips and tongue, and if anything, it turns her on even more.
"One of us is wearing too much clothes," Clarke complains, pulling away briefly and slipping her index finger inside the waistband of his boxers.
He raises a challenging eyebrow. "So do something about it."
Not breaking eye contact, she hooks her thumbs in his jeans, which are still unbuttoned but somehow have stayed up, and starts pushing them down his hips. He quickly reaches behind him, pulling a condom out of the back pocket, and she pauses.
"I thought you weren't planning on seducing me?" she notes, amused, and gives the jeans one final push to make them fall to the floor.
Bellamy shrugs as he steps out of them and kicks them to the side. "Not planning, but a guy can hope."
"Oh, yeah?"
Clarke slides her hand down his stomach and continues into his boxers, finally wrapping her hand around him. His eyes fall closed at the feeling and he leans his forehead against hers, letting out a harsh breath.
She sets a slow pace, swiping her thumb over the head of his dick before sliding her hand along the shaft and back up. His hips jerk in time with her movements, and she adds a little more pressure.
But Bellamy grabs her hand and pulls it away. She frowns.
"Did I…"
"No," he cuts her off. "But we don't want this to be over before it even starts, do we?"
"Definitely not," she agrees.
He leans in to kiss her, and she hears the rustle of his boxers joining his jeans on the floor, then the sound of the condom packet being opened, before he steps closer and pushes her up against the wall.
They kiss for a long moment before he hooks his hands behind her thighs and lifts her up so she can wrap her legs lightly around his waist. Without pulling away, Clarke reaches between them to position him at her entrance and he slowly lowers her until he's completely buried inside her.
"Fuck, Princess," he groans, fingers digging into her thighs almost painfully.
"Uh-huh," is the most articulate thing she can get out.
She wraps her arms around his neck, to get some purchase, and manages to rise up a little before sinking back down.
Bellamy meets her movement, thrusting up into her, and they moan in unison.
He takes the lead from there, shallow thrusts making her slide against the wall. It takes a moment, since she's focused on the pleasure he's giving her further south, before she realizes that the wall is covered in some sort of textured wallpaper that is less than comfortable against her back.
"Wait, wait," she gets out, and he immediately stops moving.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Clarke quickly assures him. "Just… the wall…"
Bellamy understands immediately, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her away from the wall.
"Bed?" he suggests, and she nods quickly.
She wraps her legs more securely around his waist as he takes the few steps needed through the door to his bedroom and kicks it closed behind him. He kneels down on the bed and then lowers them both down carefully, managing to get them horizontal without even pulling out of her.
"Better?" he asks, sucking one of her earlobes into his mouth and letting his teeth graze the skin at the same time as he pulls out, almost all the way, and pushes back inside.
"Yes, yes, just like that."
They find a rhythm quickly, Clarke pushing up to meet each of his thrusts, her nails digging into his back in a way she's sure must be painful but he doesn't seem to notice. He trails kisses down her throat until he gets to her breast, where he sucks her nipple into his mouth, hard, drawing a gasp from her.
He slides an arm under her hips, changing the angle of his thrusts just a little and making his pelvic bone drag against her clit on each thrust.
"Oh, God," she moans, her toes curling into the soft bedspread beneath her.
She wasn't sure she'd be able to come again, it sometimes takes her a while to get worked up again after an orgasm, but the position soon has her teetering on the edge again. She's not sure if Bellamy can tell, but he pushes up to kiss her again.
"You close, baby?" he murmurs against her lips, and she nods frantically, a whimper escaping her as he slides a hand between them, finding her clit. "Then let go. Let me feel you."
And she does, flying over the edge into oblivion, stars exploding behind her eyelids.
She's vaguely aware of Bellamy hooking one arm under her knee and pulling her leg up, opening her up further to him, and by the time she's coming down again, his thrusts have turned erratic. Clarke slides a hand up his back, tangling in his hair, and reaches up to kiss him, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth and biting lightly.
He comes with a groan, pulsing deep inside her, and she wraps her legs around his waist, keeping him there.
They kiss lazily as their breathing and heartbeats slowly return to normal. After a few minutes, Bellamy breaks the kiss and makes a move to roll off her, but she tightens her legs around him. "Not yet."
He chuckles but obliges, burying his head against her shoulder and putting most of his weight on her, and they stay like that for a little while longer.
When she releases her hold on him, he kisses her deeply before rolling onto his back and sitting up. She follows, turning onto her side and watching him as he gets rid of the condom in a trashcan under the desk and returns to the bed.
He lays down next to her, on his side too and facing her, just a couple of inches apart. The only light in the room comes from the crack in the door and a streetlamp outside the window, and his face is cast in deep shadows. Reaching out a hand, he lets a finger trail up her side, from her thigh to her shoulder and then down her arm.
"Stay?" he murmurs quietly, eyes intent on hers.
Clarke almost says no without even thinking about it, a knee-jerk reaction. It's been a while since she's had more than hook-ups and one night stands, and she has two rules when it comes to those – always go to their place, and never stay the night.
But with Bellamy… she wants to stay the night. She wants to wake up with him in the morning. The thought is more than a little scary.
"OK," she agrees with a small nod, and he leans forward to kiss her.
"You don't have work in the morning?" he asks when he's pulled away.
"Nope, not until the afternoon."
"And the cat'll be OK without you?"
The fact that he thinks to ask about Bastet makes Clarke's heart melt a little. She can't remember the last time someone she hooked up with did. Though, in all fairness, she doesn't usually give them the opportunity to, since she doesn't exactly engage them in deep conversations about their lives. But still. It's nice.
"She'll be fine, I gave her a little extra food before I left."
Bellamy's eyebrows shoot up and a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Really? Were you planning on staying out all night?"
She scoots closer and slides her arm around his waist, nudges his nose with hers. "Not planning…" she starts, repeating his earlier words back to him. "But a girl can hope."
He laughs at that and kisses her before pulling away completely.
"Do you want a t-shirt or something to sleep in?" he asks, getting up from the bed and rounding it.
The sweat is starting to cool on her skin, and she realizes that she's actually a little cold, so she nods. "Yeah, that would be great."
He opens the second drawer in the dresser next to the door and rummages around a little before pulling out a t-shirt and tossing it to her. She holds it up – it's grey, with the text 'How was the Roman Empire cut in half? With a pair of Caesars' on the front. Clarke can't help it, she laughs out loud.
"Gag gift from Miller last Christmas," Bellamy explains, before disappearing into the hallway. He returns a moment later, now wearing his boxers, and holding her leggings and panties. He hangs the leggings over the back of the desk chair, and holds out the panties to her. "Thought you might want these."
She takes them and pulls them on before tugging the t-shirt over her head as well.
"Do you want to use the bathroom first?" he asks. "There should be an extra toothbrush in one of the drawers."
"OK, thanks."
She leans up for a kiss as she passes him, pulling away with a laugh when he reaches for her in an attempt to deepen the kiss, and then heads to the bathroom next door.
She uses the toilet before going on her toothbrush hunt. The first drawer seems to function as a medicine cabinet, with a couple of boxes of Tylenol, DayQuil and NyQuil, some bandages and Neosporin. She finds the toothbrush in the second drawer, but there's not just one, there's an eight-pack with two missing. She quickly pushes away any thoughts on why that might be there – it's none of her business.
She pulls out one and brushes her teeth, deliberately not opening the remaining two drawers or the cupboard under the sink. She doesn't want to snoop, even though he technically gave her permission to by not specifying exactly where the toothbrush was… She washes her face as well, cleaning off her make-up, and pulls her hair into a messy braid before leaving the bathroom.
Bellamy's sitting on the edge of the bed when she returns to the room. He's turned on a bedside lamp, closed the blinds and removed the bedspread from the bed while she was gone. The comforter that was hidden underneath is dark grey, and there are two matching pillows as well as a bunch of other, mismatched ones, at the head of the bed.
"There wasn't just one toothbrush," she says. "There was an eight-pack. Who needs that many toothbrushes?"
He chuckles. "It's Miller, he has a bulk buying problem," he explains.
Clarke raises an eyebrow at him. "Seriously?"
"Seriously. Jackson took him to Costco on his birthday a couple of months ago, and he said it was the best one he's ever had." He gets up from the bed and crosses the room to her, sliding his arms around her waist. "Why, did you think it was for all the girls I pick up at the bar on weekends?"
The thought had crossed her mind…
"Go get ready for bed," she tells him in lieu of answering, and he leaves the room laughing.
There's a book on the nightstand on one side of the bed, so Clarke gets in on the other side, fluffing up a couple of pillows and settling in. The mattress is just the perfect combination of soft and supportive, and the huge comforter is feather light but warm.
Bellamy returns a few minutes later, now sporting a pair of glasses with black, chunky frames.
"You wear glasses?" she asks as he pulls back the comforter and gets in bed next to her.
"Contacts, usually," he replies. "I can technically sleep with them but my eyes are always really dry in the morning, so I normally don't."
"Hmm…" she hums, reaching out to push a few curls away from his forehead, her eyes sliding over his Number. She absentmindedly realizes that it's the first time she even notices it tonight. 245. "I like them."
"Good," he replies, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. "I'd hate for my glasses to be a deal breaker."
Clarke slides a hand into his hair before pulling him in for a kiss, and he hums contentedly against her lips.
It's not a kiss that's leading anywhere, really, just a drawn out goodnight, in a way. After a few minutes, she pulls away and places one last, chaste kiss on his lips before turning around, so her back's against him, and scooting backwards until her back is against his chest. She feels Bellamy shift away from her for a moment, probably taking off his glasses and then turning the light off, before he returns to his previous position and slides an arm around her waist, resting his hand against her stomach.
"This OK?" he murmurs into her shoulder, breath warm against her skin even through the t-shirt.
Clarke places her hand on top of his and interlaces their fingers.
"Perfect."
Chapter warnings: explicit sexual content