Clarke leaned a hip against the wall beside Raven's TV, slowly sipping her Rum and Coke as she watched Bellamy open his birthday presents.
The party had turned into some sort of combination of drunken house-party and actual adult party, and Clarke loved it. It felt like it really represented where they were at in their lives; no longer college idiots, but not quite ready for sedate dinner parties either.
Most of them were making decent money now, and most of Bellamy's closer friends had shown up with some sort of birthday present.
There were quite a few bottles of booze, some gift cards, and then some miscellaneous presents.
Bellamy had just gotten done opening Miller's present, a used copy of Donkey Kong for his Nintendo 64, when he picked up Clarke's gift bag.
She couldn't help the smirk that crossed her face as he reached inside.
He pulled out the pink sparkly hammer that she'd told him about months ago, and she watched as he grinned, then sought her out. "You know I'm going to use this at work, right?"
"That's what I bought it for," she replied cheekily, and she heard Murphy snort none-too-delicately on the other side of the room.
Bellamy reached down in the bottom of the bag, pulling out her card.
She watched his face as he opened the envelope, obviously surprised by the card inside.
It was a baseball themed card meant for a child, and she chuckled at his look of confusion, partially because she was definitely going to make it a point to always buy him silly cards, and partially because there was a reason for this particular card.
The reason dawned on him once he opened it and saw what was inside: two tickets to the charity baseball game their town was hosting in a few months between the Washington Nationals and the Baltimore Orioles.
His eyes had just raised to meet hers when Wick let out a loud whistle, reaching for the tickets.
"Dude, how did you get these?! They're going for like two grand a pop!"
Bellamy's eyebrows raised, an uncomfortable look passing over his face.
Clarke fairly glared at Wick before turning back to Bellamy. "Don't worry. I didn't buy them. I stole them," she said casually.
Everyone chuckled, and apparently Jasper took that, and the fact that Clarke's gift was the last, as his cues to turn the music back on, which made everyone start chatting amongst themselves again and made it impossible for Clarke and Bellamy to finish their conversation while they were across the room from each other.
Clarke did, however, take comfort in the fact that Bellamy looked more amused than uncomfortable now.
She held his gaze for another minute, until he got pulled into a conversation with Monty and Harper.
It may have been her imagination, but it almost seemed as if he turned away from her a little reluctantly.
She took a second to just watch him, making sure he was having a good time and drinking in the sight of a Bellamy that seemed mostly carefree.
It had been a while since she'd seen this Bellamy and she took a minute to enjoy it.
He currently had on a silver crown, complete with purple jewels and dainty swirls, which just made everything even better.
Harper had brought over a box of miscellaneous decorations she'd had in her closet, which is where the 'Happy Birthday' banner hanging over the couch, the lime green streamers hanging haphazardly and half-assedly from the ceiling, and the baby blue Solo cups they were all drinking out of had come from.
Apparently, it had also contained this 'party crown,' which she'd put on as a joke.
Part-way through Bellamy's gift opening spree, Murphy had slipped it off Harper's head and placed it on Bellamy's, claiming it was unfair for anyone else to be sparkly when it was Bellamy's birthday.
Bellamy had glared at Murphy, blushed like the dork he was, and then left it on good-naturedly when everyone else had insisted.
He'd apparently forgotten it was there, because he was going about his life as if he didn't have a plastic crown meant for a 12-year-old girl perched atop his dark curls.
Clarke grinned at the sight of that one last time, then headed back into the kitchen, to see if Raven needed any help dealing with the junk food or the drinks.
Between restocking the beer multiple times, opening bag after bag of unnaturally colored snacks, making small talk with people she rarely saw, dealing with the crisis every time they seemingly ran out of ice, and then cutting and handing out pieces of the cake she'd made earlier in the day, it felt like Clarke barely got to spend any time with Bellamy.
It was also exhausting.
It was half past 11 by the time she'd cleaned up the utensils from cutting the cake and boxed up what was left of it for Bellamy to take home.
She stepped back out into the living room, pleased to see that the party was winding down, partially because she was exhausted, partially because she wanted to finally get a minute with the birthday boy…and partially because they actually were out of ice this time.
There were only a dozen or so people left, and most of them were in pairs or trios, entertaining themselves.
Monty, Jasper, and Miller were currently sitting on the floor, playing a video game on Raven's TV, which seemed so typical Clarke couldn't help but snort.
Murphy was apparently on his way out, because he gave her an only slightly sarcastic high-five on his way past her, a "nice party, Griffin" tossed over his shoulder before she could even process what was going on.
She nodded after he'd already closed the door behind him.
Also typical.
She stood there for a second, looking around for Bellamy, but not finding him.
Miller, who she'd thought was intent on the screen in front of him and the controller in his hands, didn't even look up as he told her "balcony."
Clarke blinked in surprise, then shrugged, sliding open the balcony door and finding Bellamy on the far side of the narrow outdoor space, sitting on one of Raven's outdoor hi-top chairs.
She slid the door closed behind her and walked toward him. "Tired of everyone already?" she teased.
He gave her a half smile. "Nah. Monty and Jasper's gift started making the room spin. Thought I'd get some fresh air," he said, shaking the curls out of his eyes, as he often did.
His movement jostled the crown that was somehow still on his head, and his hand flew up haphazardly to grab it. "Shit," he said, untangling it from his curls. "I meant to give this to you ages ago. Someone could've told me I still had it on," he grumbled.
She laughed, stepping closer and expecting him to hand it to her. "It looks good on you!"
He finally freed it from his hair, then grabbed her arm, pulling her closer and gently placing the crown on her head.
She practically held her breath while he did, and her lightheadedness didn't improve in the slightest when his eyes finally met hers, their faces only a foot or so apart. "There," he said quietly, voice low. "Knew the crown would look better on the Princess."
Clarke forced herself to break their stare, grabbing his plastic cup off the table beside him and looking down at the electric blue concoction before taking a sip.
She'd tasted it a couple hours ago, but it was still a gut punch. She wasn't sure how the mad scientists managed to make it taste delicious while it was in your mouth…yet still burn all the way down your esophagus.
Bellamy chuckled at the look on her face, taking his cup back and taking a sip himself. "Where's yours?" he asked.
"I've been trying to behave tonight. Well, a little," she clarified, and she couldn't help the shiver that worked its way through her, the sudden warmth from the alcohol in her stomach contrasting sharply with the cold of the air.
Bellamy reached out, wrapping his arm around her and tugging her into his side as if it was nothing.
Clarke's breath caught at the sudden movement…and the sudden intimacy, but she quickly snapped herself out of it, curling her body in toward his.
"Why aren't you drinking?" he asked, his brow furrowed a little in consternation, and that's when she realized that he was more than a little trashed.
She smiled, running her finger over the lines on his forehead, gently smoothing them out. "I did drink. I just didn't want to get carried away tonight."
"Why?" he asked again, still a little frustrated.
She leaned her chin against his shoulder. "I have to work tomorrow," she reminded him. She also wanted to make sure she retained enough of her faculties to help host the party and to make sure he had a good time, but she wasn't about to tell him that.
He huffed in annoyance, and she hid her smile against his shirt. "I don't have to go in 'til 1, but I didn't want to be too hungover," she explained.
He still looked unhappy about it.
"What's wrong?" she asked, and she realized that her hand had fallen to rest on his arm where it wrapped around her. She knew she should move it…but she let herself keep drawing patterns on his forearm instead.
"I wanted you to have fun," he insisted, and he wasn't really slurring his words, but it did seem like he had to think about them for a minute…or like it took a minute for them to make their way from his brain to his mouth.
Clarke hid another smile against his shoulder.
Bellamy only got like this…a bit boyish, even more stubborn in some weird kind of simplistic way…when he was extra drunk. Clarke couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him like this…probably sometime back when she and Octavia had been undergrads.
But she'd wanted him to have fun and let loose tonight. He'd had a terrible month, and even beyond that, it felt like he was always parenting someone.
Even when they went to bars, he usually didn't drink that much so he could take care of everyone else. He'd driven people home, called people cabs, comforted crying girls (and once, a crying Jasper), and force-fed people water and French fries when they needed it.
Especially after everything, Clarke had wanted him to be free from responsibility, at least for one night.
His hangover would be a bitch tomorrow, but it would probably be worth it.
"I did have fun," Clarke insisted. "Did you?"
He nodded, staring out at the pool in the courtyard, apparently having forgotten his frustration from 60 seconds ago.
Clarke moved her free hand up to his shoulder, trying not to think about how they were touching each other like they had a right to be. "You know you're going to be miserable in the morning, right?" she teased.
"Mmm," he hummed, shrugging unconcernedly and tipping back his cup, draining the last of whatever it was that Monty and Jasper had made. "You're going to have to make me hangover breakfast, for once," he said nonchalantly. "Come on, Princess. Take me home. Grandpa is fading fast over here."
Clarke froze at the casualness in his voice, and the fact that he said it as if there wasn't any doubt that she would.
She would be happy to, of course, but that wasn't the issue.
The issue was that his request implied that she'd still be with him in the morning…as if they hadn't spent the last few weeks studiously avoiding spending the night with each other.
Clarke bit her lip, somewhat in frustration, somewhat in thought…and maybe, somewhat to keep herself from blurting out anything she shouldn't say, even if she really wanted to say it.
She disentangled herself from his grasp, moving a few feet away to lean a hip against the railing.
She'd been serious about her intentions to make this birthday amazing for him in every way she could…and even though it broke her heart…and made her stomach turn… she felt like she needed to make sure she gave him all the information about just what his birthday could entail.
She looked somewhere just over his shoulder. "You could probably get someone else to make it for you," she almost whispered.
"Huh?" he asked. "Surely you can manage eggs, Princess. You literally just…"
She interrupted his cooking lesson. "No, I just mean…" she sighed. "There are a few girls in there that would probably be happy to uh…help you finish your birthday off right."
He was staring at her in confusion again, and she huffed in frustration.
She didn't want to have to spell this out for him, but she also didn't want to cock-block him, and she was pretty sure she'd been doing some form of that all night, because it seemed like the girls she was referring to were interested…very interested, but unsure of whether or not Clarke and Bellamy were together.
"Roma! That friend of Harper's…Bree, I think? That girl that used to work with Lincoln…Alexa? I'm sure you could…"
He was still frowning at her. "Alexa?"
Clarke rolled her eyes, her hands flailing and then slapping her thighs in frustration. "I don't know what her name is! She's got too much eyeliner on and she's been standing in the corner all evening, looking like she wants to murder everyone with a spork."
The girl in question had, however, been trailing Bellamy's movements like some sort of cat lying in wait, and Clarke had noticed. She wasn't sure Bellamy had though, which is why she'd mentioned it in the first place.
Bellamy thought about it for another minute or two, and Clarke held her breath, preparing herself for the inevitable, 'Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow, Clarke,' which would be code for, 'I'm going to be busy fucking someone else.'
Her stomach roiled, but she steadfastly tried to keep her face neutral.
She wanted him to be happy. She wanted him to have fun.
And he didn't want her…at least not like that.
She didn't even realize she was holding her breath until Bellamy started laughing, and then she quickly released it, looking at him oddly.
"Echo!" he said, rather loudly.
She tried to process the turn of events, but between the few drinks she had consumed and the stress she was currently putting herself through, she wasn't following. "Huh?"
"Her name is Echo!" he said, apparently finding something hilarious. "Did you seriously just confuse the two Amazon robots?"
She stared at him for a moment, and she couldn't help the chuckle that escaped, mostly because he was laughing so hard and, damn, but it looked good on him.
"Whatever," she huffed, again rolling her eyes. "My point was…I'm pretty sure you could get any of them to…take you home," she said, clearing her throat. "Hell, probably all of them. That used to be your thing, right?"
In fact, Clarke was pretty sure Roma had been one of the two girls she'd once passed coming out of Bellamy's apartment one Saturday morning years ago.
Bellamy had stopped laughing and was again watching her oddly, as if he was too confused to process what she was even saying.
He got up, tipping his plastic cup again, and then making a noise of disappointment when he realized he'd already emptied it. "Why would I want another girl to take me home?" he asked.
Clarke's breath hitched, and she searched his face for some kind of sign that he was trying to tell her something…but all she found was complete confusion.
He literally could not imagine taking anyone but her home with him.
She let out a grateful breath, the head to toe dread she'd been experiencing quickly leaving her body.
She knew it probably didn't mean what she wanted it to mean, but he'd rather spend the rest of his birthday platonically with her than screwing anyone else, and she was going to take her wins where she could get them.
"Come on, Princess. I think I need to…lie down," he finished, walking a little crookedly as he took the few steps toward her, looping an arm over her shoulders.
She led him inside, stopping to grab her backpack out of Raven's bedroom as he said goodbye to the few people left in the living room.
She'd brought her backpack because she assumed she'd be staying somewhere overnight, but she'd figured it would be at Raven's or even Harper's.
This was definitely a preferable turn of events.
She walked back out, and Bellamy immediately placed his arm around her again, leading her toward the door.
She chuckled, calling out a goodbye over her shoulder.
And maybe she was getting a couple glares, but Roma and Siri could choke.
If they thought she was about to have wild birthday sex with Bellamy, she wasn't about to correct them.
She and Bellamy made their way down to the courtyard, Bellamy leaning against her a bit more with every step.
He stumbled a little, tripping over the threshold of the elevator in his building. "Jesus," he said, scrubbing a hand over his face. "That shit is deadly."
Clarke chuckled, not even having to ask to know that he was referring to Monty and Jasper's hooch. "Come on, Bell. We're almost there."
He hummed non-committally and turned toward her, sort of hugging her for the duration of the elevator ride.
When the doors opened on his floor, she had to clear her throat to get him to move, half dragging him to his apartment.
"Okay, birthday boy," she said, locking the door behind them and then leading him into his bedroom. "Get ready for bed. I'll…"
She was going to say that she'd give him some privacy to change, but he'd already unbuttoned his pants and was in the process of kicking them off.
"…okay then," she mumbled, turning around to go back out into the living room.
She'd barely made it to the doorway when she heard a muffled grunt behind her, followed by an odd-sounding "Clarke!"
She was a little afraid to turn around, lest she find naked Bellamy standing behind her, but she didn't really have much choice.
She spun around slowly…prepared to slap a hand over her eyes if necessary…and instead ended up bringing it to her mouth, in an unsuccessful attempt to quell the laughter that sprang to her lips.
Bellamy was standing where she'd left him, just beside his bed…wearing nothing but his blue boxers…and with his shirt somehow twisted and tangled around his arms and his head.
He was flailing a little, trying to extricate himself, but apparently not able to figure out how.
She chuckled some more…because it was hilarious…but she also felt a pang in her chest, because he was too goddamn adorable for words and she loved the shit out of him.
She walked toward him, putting a hand on his elbow so he wouldn't accidentally hit her with his flailing. "Hold still, dumbass," she said fondly, untangling the mess he'd made and then helping him pull it off over his head.
She tried not to think about how much she'd like to do this exact thing but in completely different circumstances…really she did.
"Okay, Graceful Grace," she teased, turning around to again go into the living room so he could finish changing.
She didn't even make it a step away when she felt his arm band around her middle, and suddenly, she was airborne, a squeal springing from her lips before she could stop it.
It all happened so fast, she wasn't even sure what was happening, but apparently he'd pressed her against him, then rolled her over him and onto the bed, because she ended up lying on the middle of the bed beside him, her back still flush against his chest, his arm still banded around her waist, and her stomach still beside the bed, where her feet had last touched the floor.
She let out a large breath, trying to get her bearings. "Jesus Christ, Bellamy. Give me a heart attack."
He grumbled, nuzzling his face into the back of her neck and tangling their legs together.
It was then that she realized that her mini dress had ridden up, the hem twisted around her hips and her lacy underwear on clear display.
She squirmed, trying to move out of his arms so she could fix it, but he grumbled again and pulled her tighter against him.
Turning her head a bit, she peeked over her shoulder and saw that he hadn't even noticed her dress could now pass for a shirt.
In fact, he seemed half asleep.
"Bell, I am not sleeping in this dress. Let me up so I can change."
He huffed, his arm not budging.
She rolled a little onto her back so she could see him. "And if I don't take some of this eye make-up off, I'm going to wake up looking like Cortana," she griped.
He finally loosened his grip enough that she could slide out of bed, but his brow furrowed, even in his half-asleep state, obviously trying to figure out what in the world she was talking about.
She grabbed a change of clothes, then headed into the bathroom, making quick work of changing and washing off her make-up.
By the time she made it back out into his bedroom, clad in his clothes, she remembered that this was no longer their norm, and she wondered if she was making a mistake…but she crawled into bed with him anyway, although she was careful to stay on her own side.
She'd assumed he was asleep, which is why she squealed again when his arm snaked out, pulling her towards him.
She ended up much like how she'd been before she'd left his bed just a few minutes ago except, this time, they were facing each other.
He pulled her close, his arm around her waist, and he tangled their legs together as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
(It was.)
His eyes were even open, although his eyelids seemed heavy, and he was watching her contentedly, a half smile on his face.
She put her hand on his arm, just above his elbow, and tried not to think about the fact that he was only wearing boxers while he was tangled up in bed with her.
"Did you have a good birthday?" she asked quietly.
He nodded. "Might be the best one yet," he answered.
She raised an eyebrow in surprise, his answer unexpected. "Why?"
His hand tightened, gripping her waist, and he leaned forward, his lips grazing her forehead. "Cause you're here."
Clarke quit breathing, but he didn't seem to notice, laying his head back down just a few inches from hers, his eyes falling closed as if he couldn't keep them open anymore.
She replayed his words in her head over and over, trying to discern their meaning. Aside from her year of temporary insanity, she'd spent his last five or six birthdays with him…
…but this was definitely the first of his birthdays she'd spent curled up in bed with him.
She leaned up, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
She should have aimed for his cheek…in fact, she probably shouldn't have done it at all, but she couldn't help herself.
Honestly, she should get an award for showing this much restraint.
She let her lips linger for just a moment, taking solace in the fact that he probably wouldn't remember her momentary lapse in judgement in the morning.
"Happy Birthday, Bell," she whispered.
He smiled, pulling her closer. "Thanks, Princess," he murmured.
Almost immediately, his breathing deepened and he drifted off.
Clarke, on the other hand, wasn't sure how long she laid there awake, wondering what on Earth they were going to do.
A/N: I 've got Echo jokes for dayyyyys.