Clarke wakes up with a roaring headache and aching bones. She groans, tries to roll over, but stops as she notices an arm around her. Lexa, asleep, has her face buried in Clarke's blonde locks, holding her close. They stay this way until Clarke's body aches for a change in position. Carefully, she turns over so as to face Lexa, who groans softly in her sleep at losing the sweet scent of Clarke's hair. They're face to face now, noses almost touching, and Clarke feels safe amidst the physical pain of a hangover. She falls gently back to sleep.
Her eyes flutter open to find Clarke nuzzled in her chest. The position feels nice and warm and satisfying - Lexa wants to stay this way for hours, holding Clarke close and feeling her heartbeat, hearing her breath. But she has to pee. Carefully, so as to not wake her, Lexa pulls her arm back and gently sits up. Clarke rolls forward, and as Lexa gets up, takes the brunette's place.
She wakes up for the second time to find her headache has worsened and is now accompanied by a dull nauseating feeling at the pit of her stomach. She groans again, reaching out to touch Lexa, but she isn't there. Lifting her head, she looks around the room but finds it empty. She groans louder, letting her head fall back onto the bed.
"You okay?" she hears Lexa's voice and looks up again. She's coming out of the bathroom, short pajama shorts and a tank top. Clarke can't help but notice that she isn't wearing a bra underneath.
"I thought you'd left," Clarke says and it sounds a lot more needy than she meant it to sound.
"I'm right here," Lexa says and it sounds more romantic than she meant it to sound. "How are you feeling?"
"Like fucking shit," Clarke half-laughs, half-groans.
"Can I get you anything?" Lexa asks, stepping forward and sitting on the bed as she slips on a pair of slippers. "I'm going downstairs to get some coffee."
"Coffee would be nice," the blonde says, sitting up. "Black, please."
"You got it."
When Lexa comes back, Clarke is coming out of the bathroom, her groans even louder than before. The brunette tries not to smile at how cute the blonde looks, messy hair and all.
"Fuck," she curses. "How much did I drink?"
"Probably too much," Lexa smiles, handing her a cup of coffee. Clarke grabs it and sits back on the bed. "I'm guessing you won't be going rock-climbing with Lincoln and Octavia?" Clarke only groans in response, making Lexa laugh. The blonde wonders how even when everything hurts, her laugh comes like a sweet relief.
"You guys have fun without me," Clarke says sadly, and Lexa can't help but feel bad.
"I'm staying too," she finds herself saying.
"What? Why?" Clarke furrows her brow in confusion and even that hurts, but she doesn't notice because the sudden excitement in her belly is too distracting.
"Someone's got to take care of you," Lexa smiles.
"I'm fine," Clarke assures her, though only to be polite. Lexa gives her a look and she adds, "Okay, I'm not fine. But I will be."
"And until then, I'll be here making sure you don't die," Lexa argues playfully.
"No one's ever died of a hangover." Oh my god just let her take care of you. "But thank you," she adds quickly before the brunette can change her mind. "I'd enjoy the company."
"What do you do?" Clarke asks some couple of hours in. "Like, what's your job?" They both realize that they don't really know much about each other, and though at firsts their one-night-stand relationship depended on it, they are now incredibly curious of each other.
"I'm the director of an art museum," she explains. "What about you?"
"I own a tattoo shop," Clarke says and Lexa gives her a weird look. "What?"
"You don't seem to me like the tattoo shop type," she says. "Do you even have any tattoos?"
"One," Clarke says proudly. "But... you can't see it." She blushes and Lexa smiles. "What type had you pegged me for?"
"Hmm," Lexa thinks. "Unemployed, spoiled, rich kid." Clarke throws a pillow at her and they both laugh.
"I'll have you know I'm a fantastic tattoo artist."
"Yeah? Maybe next time I'll have you do me." Lexa smiles at the double meaning, but Clarke just blushes and looks away.
"I'm also, uh, a regular artist," Clarke says quickly, trying to hide her nervousness. "Like, you know, painting."
"Oh," Lexa says genuinely impressed. "I'd love to see your stuff. Maybe I can get you an exhibition at the museum."
"That would be amazing," Clarke says excitedly. "You would do that?"
"Yeah," Lexa says, their eyes looking into each other sweetly. "Uh, if they're good paintings, of course," she adds although she has no doubt that they are.
"Come on!" Clarke urges. "I'm bored." Lexa laughs at her childishness, but gives in.
"Okay, okay. Let's play," Lexa agrees. "With fingers, though, because I'm not letting you drink."
"Yeah, duh. Whoever loses, as in, whoever puts down all ten fingers, has to..." Clarke looks around the room.
"Buy the other dinner," Lexa finishes the sentence.
"Sure," Clarke agrees. "Okay, you first." They hold up both hands, showing their ten fingers to each other, as they sit face to face on the bed.
"Never have I ever...," Lexa thinks. "...slept with Bellamy Blake." Clarke wrinkles her nose and puts down a finger.
"Never have I ever gotten more than one tattoo," Clarke says, remembering how beautiful the black tattooed lines looked on Lexa's skin. They're nine to nine now.
"Never have I ever had more than one one night stand," Lexa says, making Clarke sigh and put down another finger.
"Your never-have-i-ever's are so sexual, Lexa," Clarke comments, "Something on your mind?" Lexa blushes and Clarke pretends not to notice. "Never have I ever been in love with a straight girl." Lexa thinks for a moment and then lowers a finger.
"Never have I ever been in love with a boy," Lexa says and Clarke puts down a finger. Eight to eight.
"Never have I ever had sex in a museum," Clarke smirks.
"How the fuck did you know that?" Lexa laughs, putting down a finger.
"You seem like the type," Clarke winks.
"Never have I ever had sex in a tattoo shop," Lexa says, but Clarke shakes her head.
"I don't shit where I sleep and I don't fuck where I work," she shrugs. Lexa groans and puts down a finger, putting Clarke at eight and Lexa at six. "Oh!" Clarke laughs. "Never have I ever had a threesome." Lexa shakes her head. "Damn it."
"Never have I ever said someone else's name during sex."
"Who told you about that?" Clarke asks genuinely shocked as she puts down a finger. Seven to six.
"You seem like the type," Lexa shrugs.
"Never have I ever..." Clarke hesitates before carefully adding, "...regretted having a one night stand." She puts her own finger down, but pays close attention to Lexa's. All six stay up.
"Never have I ever been so jealous that I told someone I had herpes," Lexa smiles. She's teasing Clarke by using the word "jealous" and they both know this. Lexa expects her to deny it, but Clarke puts down a finger. Now they're tied again, six to six.
"Never have I ever flirted with nearly every girl at a party to make someone else jealous," Clarke says, and neither one is teasing now.
"It wasn't to make you jealous," Lexa says quietly. They air grows thicker, hotter, and they lean closer to each other.
"Why was it, then?" Clarke asks, her breath quickening as she notices this sudden closeness.
"To get you off of my mind," Lexa explains as if it were nothing but Clarke can feel her heart in her throat. "Never have I ever -"
"Never have I ever tried to hook up with Bellamy Blake to get someone off of my mind," Clarke interrupts, putting down her own finger. "Emphasis on 'tried'," she smiles and Lexa looks at her, curiously. Five to six.
They're closer now, somehow, and they can almost feel each other's breath. Clarke's hands tingle with the urge to pull Lexa into her.
"Never have I ever wanted to kiss someone, but couldn't because my best friend told me not to," Lexa says and though she knows Clarke put down her finger, she doesn't see it because she's too busy looking deeply into her eyes. Four to six.
"Never have I ever gotten myself wet fantasizing about you," Clarke says and the heat between them is so undeniably real now. They both put down a finger. Three to five.
Lexa leans in closer, looking at her intently, analyzing every inch of her skin. Breathing in deeply, she can almost taste her, her intoxicating scent blurring her mind. Clarke leans in too, wanting to brush her skin against Lexa's, wanting to dive into her.
"Never have I ever -" Lexa begins, her breath hitting Clarke, but is interrupted yet again.
"Oh, shut up." Clarke leaps onto Lexa, her hands desperately grasping her brunette hair and pulling it back, pushing her own weight onto her so that they fall backwards into the bed. The kiss is desperate and hungry, going from her open mouth to her neck and back again, alternating between lips and tongues and teeth. Lexa's head spins and she doesn't know what else to do, but let herself be taken. She run one hand through blonde locks and places the other on Clarke's torso. Clarke takes her hands out of the brunette's hair and cups Lexa's face with her left while the right rests on the brunette's breast. They kiss this way for a while, until it isn't enough - until they need more closeness; skin on skin. Clarke's left hand leaves Lexa's face and trails down in between her thighs, slipping a hand into Lexa's shorts. Lexa does the same to Clarke, who's still on top of her. Their hands run right circles on each other's clit, both thrusting into each other's hand, demanding more, while simultaneously enjoying the hot, wet, squirming mess of the other. They moan into each other, sharp, heavy moans exploding in lust and burning pleasure.
There's a knock at the door.
"Fuck," Clarke whimpers into Lexa's mouth, lifting her head up.
"Ignore it," Lexa pleads, pulling her back to her mouth. "They'll leave." Clarke moans softly.
There's a another, louder knock at the door, this time accompanied by a familiar voice.
"Come on, Clarke," Octavia shouts. "Open the door." Clarke sighs, defeated, and sits up, slipping her hand out of Lexa's shorts and hopping off the bed.
"She's not gonna give up," Clarke explains as she leaves a panting, burning, and unsatisfied Lexa lying on the bed.
She opens the door and is greeted by Octavia's suspicious look.
"What's up, O?" Clarke asks, attempting to sound casual.
"We missed you at the rock climbing. Lexa texted Lincoln that you were hungover," Octavia says.
"Oh, yeah. You know how I get," Clarke smiles nervously. "How was rock climbing?"
"Amazing, actually, but that's not the point," Octavia argues.
"What's the point?"
"The point is you spent the day hauled up in here with Lexa, when I specifically told you -"
"Nothing happened, O!" Clarke interrupts, aggravated. "And even if it did, it's none of your business."
"Clarke, you don't fucking get it," Octavia nearly shouts and Clarke is sure that Lexa can hear from inside.
"Stop fucking yelling. She can hear you," Clarke whispers, stepping out and closing the door behind her.
"Look, I'm not supposed to tell you this because I promised Lincoln I wouldn't, but you're my best friend," Octavia whispers too. "A little over a year ago, Lexa's ex, Costia -"
"Yeah, broke her heart, I know," Clarke groans.
"Yeah, but it wasn't just an eat-ice-cream-straight-from-the-container-while-listening-to-Taylor-Swift kind of heartbreak," Octavia explains. "It fucked her up bad. Like, a fistful of antidepressants and a month in a mental institution bad."
"Oh," Clarke says softly, unsure of what else to say. She didn't know it had been that serious.
"She's better now, for sure, but if she's gonna start dating again, I don't think it should be with you," Octavia says. "Lincoln pretends not to care, but he does. I know, to you, Lexa might be just a good fuck, but she's Lincoln's best friend and if you hurt her, you hurt him and if you hurt him you hurt me, so..."
"I get it," Clarke sighs. "I really do." And she does, for the first time. And she knows that Lexa isn't just a good fuck for her, but she might as well be because Clarke can't give her anything more than that in return. "I'll be good," she promises.
"Good, now get dressed and meet us downstairs in forty five minutes. Lincoln is taking us out for some sort of traditional Hawaiian lunch," Octavia says, before spinning around happily and leaving Clarke to groan against the door.
She walks in and Lexa is sitting up in bed, watching TV. As soon as Clarke walks in, she turns it off, and looks at her, an innocent desire in her eyes that nearly breaks Clarke's heart.
"Everything okay?" Lexa asks.
"Yeah, just fine," Clarke says, plainly, her eyes avoiding Lexa's as she plops herself down, defeated in a chair next to the bed.
"She sounded pretty pissed off."
"I said it's fine," she snaps back and Lexa furrows her brow, confused at this sudden change in mood. "She wants us to be downstairs in forty five minutes for lunch." Lexa nods, standing up and taking her shirt off in front of Clarke who groans annoyed, "What are you doing?"
"Changing into something more appropriate," she replies, teasingly, slipping off her shorts and revealing pink panties with a dark circle caused by the wetness that Clarke had helped her produce. She groans again, turning to look anywhere else. Lexa frowns, defeated, walking into the bathroom and shutting the door a little too loudly. As she does, though, Clarke turns back to look at her, her center aching for her.
The moment she hears the shower open, she lets her hand wander down to the warmth in between her legs. Throwing her head back, she suppresses her moans, as her fingers circle rapidly, frantically around her clit.
"Mmmf," she grunts, closing her eyes, imaging it's Lexa's tongue that's doing this to her; imagining her sweet hot breath on her clit; imagining her long fingers coming in and out of her. She arches her back in the chair and stifles out another moan. "Mmm...f-fu..ck," she whimpers, bringing her free hand to her mouth so as to trap her voice. "Lex..a," she whispers her name, coming undone, and drowning in the waves of pleasure that submerge her in momentary ecstasy. When she's done, she feels dirty and pathetic, with the fire of unquenched lust still all but extinguished.