Clarke stood back, holding the door and watching as Jasper, Monty, Raven, and Miller all filed past her carrying various items. They then set those items on the tiny portion of counter that was available.
"What is all this?" Clarke asked, trying to lift up a corner of the tinfoil that was covering one of the dishes Miller had brought.
Miller promptly scooted the dish out of her reach. "Oven on warm?"
"Yep," Bellamy said, scooting to the side a little so Miller could open the door.
Miller promptly placed 2 dishes inside, then looked at what was cooking on the stove.
"This gravy isn't getting thick enough," Bellamy muttered, whisking the contents of the skillet he'd been standing over for the last 10 minutes.
Miller promptly elbowed him out of the way, taking over. "Did you add white wine?" he asked.
"Uhh…" Bellamy so helpfully responded.
Miller rolled his eyes. "Do you have any white wine?"
Bellamy reached in the fridge, pulling out the bottle Clarke kept there and handing it over.
Miller worked quickly and surprisingly efficiently, adding a bit of wine, turning up the heat, and whisking, all while muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "You never add enough pepper."
By the time Bellamy turned back to look at the rest of the group, they were all watching the scene in front of them with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.
"Whaaaat is this?" Clarke asked.
Raven, who looked the least surprised, responded, "I don't know, but Miller showed up at my apartment 20 minutes ago and took over my kitchen, doing something with lemons and raw eggs?"
Miller made a frustrated noise from the stove. "Hollandaise. For the asparagus."
When there was no response, he turned around, finally noticing everyone's rapt attention on him. "What? I was afraid it would break if I tried to make it at my apartment and bring it all the way over here."
"Who are you and what have you done with Miller?" Jasper asked, his voice going into octaves it should never reach.
Miller merely rolled his eyes and focused his attention back on the gravy.
Bellamy, however, chuckled and took pity on the others. "Miller is sort of an amateur professional chef. Where do you think I learned to cook?"
Clarke was frowning at this new piece of information. "But…Octavia said you always cooked for her when she was a kid…"
"Yeah. Eggs, spaghetti with jarred marinara, sloppy joes…nothing great. The couple years I crashed at the Millers' was like one giant cooking show; you know, the one where they force you to cook weird stuff and yell at you when you don't do it perfectly?" Bellamy teased, smacking Miller on the arm. "This guy is legit. Watches Food Network and everything."
"Miller? Our Miller? How did I not know he was hot for Julia Child this whole time? Or wait. I'm sorry. That was stupid. I guess you'd be more of a Bobby Flay guy?" Monty quipped.
Miller turned around, glaring at them. "You know I can kick all your asses, right? Do you want me to inflict bodily harm on you morons or make a decent gravy? Because I can't do both and Raven's mashed potatoes are gonna need something to make them edible." He cast a look of pity at the large bowl she'd brought.
"Listen, asshole. Not all of us are Guy Fieri wannabes. Some of us happen to have lives. They said bring a side dish, so I brought a side dish. Not my fault if it's not great. You need your car fixed? Your stereo? I'm your girl. Need non-lumpy mashed potatoes? Call someone else," Raven retorted.
"Please. My hair is way better than Guy Fieri's," Miller grumbled, still facing the stove.
"…you don't have any hair…" Jasper helpfully supplied.
"Exactly," Miller said dryly.
It turned out that Miller was indeed a fantastic cook, and with the asparagus with hollandaise sauce and sweet potato casserole with bourbon candied pecans ('For fuck's sake, Jasper, I'm not your grandmother. No, I didn't put marshmallows on it. Eat like a goddamn adult, will ya?') he'd brought, paired with the turkey, cornbread stuffing, and dinner rolls Bellamy and Clarke had made, and the lumpy mashed potatoes Raven had contributed, (Miller was correct; thank God for gravy,) they managed to have a delicious Friendsgiving dinner sitting on the floor around Bellamy's coffee table.
Clarke had also surprised Bellamy with another Skype call, this time from both Octavia and Lincoln, who joined their Friendsgiving virtually from the laptop balanced on the couch.
Clarke was currently standing at Bellamy's counter, looking at the group still assembled in the living room. She was supposed to be cutting the pies she and Bellamy had made earlier, but she was mostly just hoping that being in a vertical position would help with the whole 'I'm so full, I feel like I'm going to explode' problem.
She pulled a little on the elastic waist of her sleeveless maroon dress, thanking her lucky stars that she'd worn a dress with her riding boots instead of jeans, because tight denim sounded like twelve kinds of torture right about now. (The dress also had a flutter top, which Clarke was currently using to hide what felt like an impressive food baby, and she wasn't even a little sorry about it.)
Bellamy rounded the counter, coming into the kitchen with her and setting a coffee mug on the counter beside her.
"Is this Jasper and Monty's concoction?" she asked.
The boys had been tasked with providing the alcohol for tonight's gathering, partially because they were kind of the experts at it and partially because no one wanted to eat anything those two attempted to cook.
"Mmhmm."
She eyed it dubiously. "Is it safe to drink?"
He chuckled. "It's delicious, actually. Probably has a higher octane rating than gasoline, but it tastes fucking great."
She shrugged. "Sold," she said, taking a sip. Her eyes widened. "It tastes like apple pie. But not some overly sugary mixed drink. It actually tastes like apple pie."
He nodded. "I know."
"How did they…?"
"They were saying something about apple cider and moonshine, but honestly, it's probably better not to ask."
Clarke tilted her head in agreement.
"Do you need help cutting the pies or are you just standing here hoping you can retroactively refuse that third helping of Miller's sweet potato casserole?"
Clarke held up her finger, gesturing at nothing. "That last one."
Bellamy chuckled, moving close to her back and putting his hands on her hips.
She sighed, leaning some of her weight against him as she pressed her back to his front.
They stood there in pretty perfect contentment, full of delicious food and surrounded by almost all of the people they loved most in the world.
Miller looked like he was asleep against the bottom of the couch, Jasper was lying on the floor, moaning every few minutes but still trying to drink his apple pie moonshine, and Monty was bowed over, his forehead leaning against the coffee table in what almost looked like prayer, but was probably just a food coma.
Raven, on the other hand, was still picking pecans off the top of Miller's casserole and popping them into her mouth. "Jesus. You call yourselves men? My grandma could eat more than you three put together."
Clarke snorted, taking another sip of her drink.
Bellamy chuckled, his chest moving against her back. "Do you ever feel like we're the parents and they're our bratty but adorable kids?" he asked quietly, just loud enough for her to hear.
She nodded. "All. The. Time."
She noticed Raven look up, finally tearing her attention away from the leftovers long enough to glance into the kitchen.
Clarke met her gaze, noticing the smirk that appeared on the other girl's face.
Realizing that she and Bellamy were basically cuddling in the kitchen in front of their friends, Clarke cleared her throat, stepping forward and getting ready to cut into the pumpkin pies. "Would you hand me the plates?"
Bellamy did, helping her dish it up, add whipped cream, and carry them all into the living room.
Everyone, except Raven, groaned, but they all managed to eat their slice anyway.
Jasper roused himself enough to hold up his water glass, which was filled with his apple pie creation. "Best Friendsgiving ever?!"
Everyone else held up their mismatched glasses, also filled with the boys' concoction.
Clarke turned to smile at Bellamy, only to find he was already smiling back at her as they all clinked glasses and agreed that it was, indeed, the best Friendsgiving ever.
A/N: This was a short chapter of fluffy delinquent bonding, because who doesn't love delinquent bonding and Iron Chef Miller? Also, the next couple of chapters aren't going to be so fluffy. #spoileralert #sorryinadvance