Actions

Work Header

These are the rules

Chapter Text

Sweaty hands wound their way into dark hair, a grounding to keep the blonde anchored while lips attacked her neck with fervour. She let a moan escape her as insistent hands weaved their way up her shirt and tugged her bra out of the way.

 

Rough. As always. There was no gentleness to be found between the two. They were not here so much for the other’s enjoyment. Their own desire to be sated took precedence in their interactions.

 

Shh,” Lexa whispered against Clarke’s collarbone. Deft fingers extracting themselves and instead unzipping the regulation fleece the blonde donned. The Arkadia polo was to go next, leaving Lexa free to conquer the new flesh exposed.

 

“No one will hear us.”  

 

“You don’t know that,” she bit down lightly on Clarke’s breast to mark her point.

 

Clarke’s head lolled back, knocking loudly into the patrician wall of the bathroom stall. Their bathroom stall.

 

Their sex bathroom stall.

 

Green eyes flashed up to meet blue, exasperated. Clarke grinned, she loved getting under Lexa’s skin. Getting a reaction out of the girl spiked warm and hard low in her belly.

 

“You are incapable of being quiet,” the statement was punctuated by the pop of her pants being unbuttoned and swiftly unzipped. Lexa brushed against her sex as she pushed her panties down her legs and Clarke moaned exaggeratedly.

 

Quickly Lexa reached around and gripped the other girl’s blonde locks, crashing their mouths together in passion and panic. To silence but also sate. As much as she hated Clarke being loud during their brief dalliances, she fucking loved it. It pulled at something inside of her, raw and primal, that she could make these sounds come from another person – overstated as she knew they were.

 

She wasn’t sure if Clarke knew how much she enjoyed them, or if she did it just because she knew the fear of being caught made Lexa uneasy. She also wasn’t sure which she hoped to be the true reason. She didn’t want anyone to start catching feelings and the thought of Clarke exposing her pleasure to possible accidental voyeurs just for Lexa’s satisfaction made a warmth spread through her chest. And it was too complicated to think about, so it was locked in the back of her mind as was the case with most of their interactions.

 

Clarke bit Lexa’s lip. She was content enough with silently enjoying herself as she felt two fingers push into her and a thumb against her clit. She liked to press Lexa’s reserved buttons but the likelihood of them being discovered really wasn’t as remote as she liked to reassure the brunette. Still, she just couldn’t help herself sometimes when it came to Lexa. The fear of being caught, she knew, gave her concentration and determination like nothing else and she was damn sure she wasn’t going to last long today, especially when the bargain was laid out.

 

“I’m going to taste you,” Lexa moved her left hand to Clarke’s chin, demanding her eye contact, “but only if you think you could make an attempt to keep your incessant noise to yourself.”

 

Well damn. “I can do that.” She could definitely fucking do that. Lexa’s tongue was incredible. Her eyes rolled back as Lexa dropped to her knees and hooked a leg over her shoulder, eating her out like she was damn well born to do it. She knew each and every way Clarke liked to be touched. She came quickly, a little bit quicker than she would have liked but they only had ten minutes left of their break so she didn’t spare too much thought on it.

 

Lexa stood as soon as she felt Clarke relax against her, resisting the urge to kiss her thigh. Too tender. That’s not what this was. This was two colleagues getting each other off in a bathroom, nothing more. She soon felt fingers pressed against her neck, guiding her back a little forcefully into the opposite wall, and soon had Clarke’s mouth upon her own.

Clarke didn’t bother with taking her fleece off, paying her any attention above the waist really, she didn’t need to. Though the girl was probably the most attractive woman she had ever fucked, proof enough in abs sculpted by the good lord himself, there just wasn’t time. And from past experience Clarke knew Lexa would be dripping as it was. She pulled her hair slightly to expose her neck and pepper it with kisses. It would be more than she needed to do, but Lexa loved it. She sank her teeth slightly into the skin of her neck when Lexa’s breathing quickened and her hips pressed into the hand she slipped into her unzipped pants.

 

She was so wet. 

 

Clarke fought the urge to moan herself at the girl bucking against her and sank two fingers into her. She heard a strangled groan brush past her ear and wished she’d taken Lexa’s pants off to give her more room to manoeuvre but they were here now, running out of time, and she wasn’t about to stop. It didn’t seem as though Lexa minded much, if her past behaviour was anything to go by she was going to come fucking soon.

 

Surprisingly soon. It usually didn’t take either of them very long to finish, essentially what made them the ideal work fuck-buddies, but Lexa generally liked to be paid a little bit more attention to. Today though she was hot and bothered before she’d even sauntered herself into the canteen and given Clarke the look that demanded her presence in their sex stall.

 

Lexa’s fingers dug into the small of her back as she came against Clarke’s hand and she breathed a light, “fuck.”

 

Clarke giggled and extracted herself with a satisfied smirk that Lexa pointedly ignored, choosing instead to watch as the other girl got dressed.

 

“A picture will last longer, Lexa,” she sassed.

 

Lexa rolled her eyes. “You’re blocking the door. We’re going to be late.”

 

“We’ll be fine,” Clarke replied. Lexa took the rules too seriously anyway, everyone took the liberty of five or so minutes after their break ended. Not Lexa though, no.

 

Lexa waited, silently, anxiously. This was definitely worth it, for sure, but she hated being late.

 

“Hey,” Clarke began, “I noticed you have Saturday off. Do you think you could possibly cover my shift? I kind of promised my friend I would go out that night and-”

 

“Sorry Clarke, I can’t,” Lexa interrupted, “I have a game that day and I promised the team I’d celebrate with them after.” She moved to unlatch the door as Clarke zipped her fleece back up.

 

“Oh right, okay then. It’s fine. Jasper owes me a favour anyway,” she waved her hand airily between them and giggled again watching Lexa move to the sink to wash her hands. Shamelessly she waits until the other girl catches her eye and she pops a finger into her mouth before making her way out the door.

 

Lexa can’t explain why she’s aroused by the bold blonde’s questionable hygiene.

 

-

 

“Hey how’d your exam go today?” Clarke called out to her roommate when she heard the door slam. She frowned into the mirror before her, pinning her hair atop her head. This wasn’t going well. She was never particularly talented at styling her hair, preferring usually to just curl it exaggeratedly and let it bounce around her shoulders all night. Messy bun would have to do tonight.

 

Raven ambled her way into the other girl’s room, raising her eye at the little black dress she wore and whistled low and long, “what’s all this? No sweatpants, dry cereal or crying over Netflix?”

 

Clarke rolled her eyes. “That was one time,” she mumbled. “How was your exam?”

 

“Nailed it. Answer the question. Why are you, Clarke-rather-be-naked-Griffin, wearing real clothes?”

 

“I have a daaaate,” Clarke sang happily.

 

“Shut. Up.” Raven bounded over to the girl, “that girl from work? Lexi?”

 

“Lexa. No. Why do you sound so surprised? I am a single attractive lady.” She glared in accusation. Was it that far-fetched? When was the last time she’d been out on a date?

 

Ugh. Yikes. Finn. Ten months.

 

“Fair enough, fair enough,” Raven raised her hands in front of her in defeat. “I’m just surprised you’re moving things forward with Lexa, you’ve talking about break-time-babe for what? Like four months?”

 

“It’s not Lexa,” Clarke moved closer to the mirror to check the symmetry of her eyeliner.

 

“Sure, so where are you taking her?” Raven flopped down on Clarke’s bed, displacing several dresses and many socks.

 

“It’s not Lexa,” Clarke repeated, exhasperated. “It’s Niylah. I’m going to dinner with her.”

 

Raven rolled her eyes. Niylah. Of course Niylah. “That’s not all she’s going to be eating tonight, obviously. Thirsty bitch. You know,” she moved her head to connect to the blonde’s eyes in the mirror, “I’m glad you’re finally actually doing something romantically social with another human and not just casually banging the new girl at work but you can do better than Niylah.”

 

“What’s wrong with Niylah?” Clarke scoffed. “She’s pretty.”

 

“Come on Clarke, you don’t actually like her. She’s been following you around like a lost puppy since freshman year and you know it. You’re bored. You just want easy.”

 

“Exactly, I want easy, I’m happy with easy,” Clarke shot back, a little shocked Raven had mentioned college to her. It was a subject strictly avoided between herself, Raven and Octavia since she’d dropped out. It wasn’t that she wasn’t capable, no, she knew she was smart enough to graduate the program, but what was the point? Follow her mother into a field she had no passion for? As if. Clarke Griffin was the master of her own life and she wouldn’t be pressured or persuaded by anyone to spend hours inside sterile rooms, or shoulder the responsibility of lives and loves.

 

“It won’t be worth having then, but whatever. Who am I to stand in the way of a girl and her fun. I’m just glad you’ve finally got your ass in gear.” She heaved herself up from the bed and threw Clarke a peace over her shoulder. “Anyway, you’re looking smoking, Griff. Enjoy fucking Niylah, she’s a lucky lady.”

 

“Great talk. We should do it again.” Clarke mumbled, a little deflated at her friend’s observance of her lack of motivation to move forward in the past year.  

 

Raven darted her head back through the door frame. “Hey, don’t forget about Saturday.”

 

“Already taken care of, Rae.”

 

-

 

Lexa wiped a hand over her sweaty forehead before the moisture could blur her vision and waited for Anya to catch up with her. The girl had been given two laps to run following the ending of hockey practice. Normally Lexa would have offered to run with her, always eager to get a head start on her weekly quota of miles; she needed to grab them where she could between studying, work and practice itself, but today it just wouldn’t be appropriate.

 

This was not exercise, this was punishment. Of course it was. Queen Anya of Sassville just had to show the sharp edge of her tongue today. Coach Indra did not take kindly to it.

 

She watched as Anya’s long legs carried her gracefully around the field and stopped just before her.

 

“A picture would last longer.”

 

“What?” Lexa’s eyes snapped up to meet her friend’s, surprised.

 

“You’re staring, Lex,” Anya chuckled, or rather wheezed slightly from her run, “I mean I know I’m probably the most impressive specimen you’ve ever laid eyes on but-” Anya swiped the water bottle thrown at her out of thin air and openly laughed at Lexa. “God, I thought you were getting laid regularly these days.”

 

“Whatever,” Lexa bumped shoulders with Anya, who quickly threw an arm over her shoulder.

 

“Anyway I’m really glad you’re going to celebrate with us when we completely trash Asgeda on Saturday, you never fucking come out anymore. I miss my drinking buddy,” she pulled her friend closer.

 

Nerves tingled in Lexa’s belly. “You don’t know we’re going to win, Anya.” Asgeda were good. Better than good, they were excellent. Full of ferocity and a vicious thirst for victory. The only thing they lacked was tactic, too full of passion. Still, that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t have improved upon this weakness since they last met the Trikru University Warriors on the field. Lexa’s team had only just managed to scrape a victory, and she feared it was mostly down to luck rather than skill.

 

“Shut up, yes I fucking do. You never miss. Anyway, are you ready for Lincoln’s party? There’s a shot contest with our names on it. I’ve tried teaching Tris our ways but she’s just not up to scratch yet.”

 

Lexa snickered, attempting to calm her worries. “You should cut her some slack Anya, she’s trying to impress you.”

 

“She vomited on me last time,” she scowled.

 

 

Lexa barked out a laugh as they crossed the street, heading toward their shared off-campus apartment. “I have Saturday off work, so don’t worry. The dream team will be back in action.”

 

“Good, you work too much. Or bang too much I suppose, since that’s all you seem to be doing since you got that job,” Anya waggled her eyebrows suggestively in the younger girl’s direction. “How is Clarkey, by the way?”

 

“Ugh, she’s fine I suppose,” Lexa huffed, vexed at being asked once again about the blonde. “You know the arrangement we have. I don’t exactly keep up to date with her personal affairs.” Even though, if she was honest, she sometimes wondered. The thought, ‘what is Clarke doing right now?’ seem to pervade her thoughts in the oddest of moments: studying, listening to music, drinking. She was often glad she didn’t have the girl’s number the morning after drinking, certain that her fear would be greater had she the opportunity to text her.

“When are we going to meet her, eh?” Anya pressed.

 

“Ehh, how about never Anya,” Lexa pushed back. “It’s not like that. We’re casual. We don’t even really speak that much. Besides I don’t exactly want to be tied down right now, especially to someone who has no ambition. She’s content to be in Arkadia forever. I’m not. We’re not compatible.” Lexa bit her lip, knowing that she didn’t really know the blonde enough to make that statement. She didn’t know the wealth of knowledge hidden beneath Clarke’s seeming lack of desire to want more than making minimum wage and smiling at offensive customers all day every day. She didn’t know that some people’s happiness wasn’t so clear cut as her own. She had always known she would be a lawyer, like her mother and father, there had never been any other option. She had always felt a driving passion to guide her. It was the best way to make a real difference in the world, in her opinion. And from this clarity she felt a weightlessness, a power within her that kept her on the right path toward her goal, even through the dark, difficult times.

 

 

“Okay Lex, if you’re still kicking it in the state of denial that’s fine,” Anya droned. “All I know is that when you speak about her, your eyes light up like they used to do.”

 

Lexa pursed her lips, happy enough to ignore that statement.

Chapter Text

Clarke swayed happily to the music pumping in her ears. She was finally here, glass in hand, excitement tumbling through her veins. It had taken them longer than she had anticipated to get ready, though in retrospect having lived with Octavia for the past three years she shouldn’t be surprised at all. She had been co-conspirator to many an ingenious plan to get the girl to conform to the concept of a deadline, including but not limited to: setting all the clocks forward half an hour to no effect – it appeared Octavia was supremely unfazed by extreme tardiness, fake phone calls of cancelled reservations – not even so much as a bat of an eyelash because “fuck them we’ll go somewhere else”, even just informing the girl that an event started an hour before it actually did begin was met with a shrug. Clarke was actually impressed they had managed to make it to the party before midnight, it definitely counted as a success, though with Raven firmly driving them forward all night she wasn’t too terribly shocked. They had had drinks in the apartment before leaving, of course, together belting out feel-good hits in between several shots, hunting down a mischievous heel and reassuring Octavia that, no you definitely don’t need any more eye make-up, you look fine. No, not fine! Great! You look foxy as fuck!  

Tequila running merrily through her blood, Clarke was just happy to let Raven take Octavia’s reins for once. She was unusually high-strung, her Raven. The mistress of casual was, for some reason, very intent on getting to this party, and though Clarke wasn’t sure she would ever actually find out the reason why, when Raven harboured a secret she took extra special care of it, she was on the lookout for any clues. Admittedly, so far she was doing a less than stand-up job. Raven had disappeared into the crowd a little over twenty minutes ago to “find some booze”. It took Clarke and Octavia less than three minutes to find said booze. Clarke shrugged to herself, content to leave her detective work until later and nudged into Octavia who, to Clarke’s delight, immediately began dancing along with her.

Yes, this was it. This was where Clarke liked to be. Drunk and free, dancing and laughing with her best friends. No cares to worry about tonight. Though, she was sure, to everyone else it seemed as though her lifestyle was just as untroubled as she let on, this was far from the truth. The façade she poured so much energy into was more fragile than ever. The beginning had been easy. Get lost in drink, drop out of college, have plenty of sex – just what the doctor ordered. To be honest, no one had really expected much more from her. How could they? Blow after blow in such a short space of time. Between her father’s untimely passing and Finn’s cheating, a girl was entitled to a little bit of fun, right? If she were entirely honest with herself she might just admit that the horror of losing her father had been so devastating upon her life that she was glad for the excuse to leave Finn.

Octavia and Raven had been on her side, more so than her mother, not that she sought much comfort there. They had held her as she cried, replaced the coffee table they had burned Finn’s picture over after it had caught fire and even drank to any and every occasion with her. Their support was unfailing. Until she had dropped out of college, and perhaps their disapproval was the best support they could muster but they just didn’t understand.

If they had known what she was ultimately signing herself up for, the constant unfailing bright lights, the smell of sterile rooms, the hopelessness of waiting areas. It was a prison and it trapped her in her moment of heartache more than any jail ever could. How could she continue when that was all that awaited her future. Still, they let her be, voicing their opinion of mistakes being made no more after the second week. She never told them that she just didn’t want to continue forward into her own worst nightmare.

She had hidden this part of her grief from them for her own reasons. Legitimate reasons. It was painful to talk about, giving this part of her life up. She had enjoyed it, and to have it tainted was not something she would gladly open up for discussion. She wasn’t sure she could even untangle the situation. It was a mass inside her chest, malignant and toxic and painful to touch upon. It grew the more she didn’t talk about it and maybe it wouldn’t if she had spoken about it to begin with, but she hadn’t and now she couldn’t. And maybe if she had spoken about it in the beginning it might be easier to admit to them, and to herself, that the feeling of dissatisfaction with her choice was getting harder to drown. Growing ever stronger than tequila and vodka.

But not tonight, tonight was reserved for Octavia and Raven and this feeling of freedom that she craved, that was becoming increasingly illusive and giving way to the weight inside her chest. She caught onto Octavia’s hip with her free hand and swayed in time with her, throwing her head back for a deep belly laugh. Octavia caught her eye, a shining smile upon her lips and winked. She turned in Clarke’s grasp and ground into her front on the make-shift dance floor. It was the living area of the house, the sofas had been pushed back to line the walls and the TV had obviously been removed. A clever move. The room was packed. Nothing precious would survive this gathering of questionable decisions.

After one too many elbows to the ribs and more than enough boys casually brushing up against her ass Clarke downed her drink. She needed a reason to get off this dance floor. “Let’s go, I’m empty,” she mumbled into Octavia’s ear. Octavia nodded and followed her down the hallway, past sweaty singles taking a break from the living room and salacious couples plotting their next move when she was roughly tugged the opposite direction.

“Did you just see that?!” Octavia hissed at her.

“See what?” Clarke asked, darting her eyes around. She didn’t see anything worth attending to.

“That fine specimen of a human who just went downstairs,” Octavia proclaimed tugging her in the direction of the stairs.

Clarke tugged back. “But I’m empty.”

“There’s alcohol downstairs,” Octavia assured.

Clarke frowned, mumbling, “how could you possibly know that?” But followed her friend anyway.

“Because they’ve set the games up downstairs!” She grew excited as they approached the stairs and quickly descended.

It was a little too quick for Clarke’s inebriated taste. She wasn’t completely trashed by any means, more merry than anything having built up quite a tolerance over the past year, but she had also learned not to test herself unnecessarily. Stairs were unnecessary when the kitchen would more than have done for her alcohol needs, but when Octavia saw something she liked there was no holding her back.

“There!” Octavia whispered, stopping abruptly and stumbling slightly as Clarke bumped into her.

Clarke scanned the room, letting Octavia lead her to the table piled with alcohol in the corner. There were several drinking games happening, each seemingly around a table. A circular table surrounded by people picking cards was set up closest to them, Clarke immediately recognised the game from a frat party she had attended few months before. It had been fun, but was a very fast way to get fucked up. It was a good game, but she’d be avoiding it this time round. There was a beer pong table set up in the centre of the room. A couple of games of shots happening on the counters that lined the farthest wall. Clarke glanced back at Octavia before following her line of sight and gasped. Standing, leaning against the counter, was the object of Octavia’s affections. The man was admittedly beautiful, and he seemed to be staring right back at Octavia with a grin so she was perhaps not entirely far-fetched in pursuing him down the stairs. Standing next to him, however, was a girl that pulled Clarke up short.

Lexa.

What was Lexa doing here? Clarke mentally rolled her eyes at herself, she was obviously here for a party, any idiot could deduce that. Harder to explain though was the nerves that tingled in her belly. Where those came from Clarke had no idea. This was the first time she had ever seen Lexa outside of work and while she had seen her naked more times than she could count in the past four months, it was rather appealing for her to find her in skinny jeans and a button down shirt. She looked in her direction at a mummer from the man beside her and met Clarke’s eye. Startled, she automatically returned the small wave Clarke offered, and Clarke watched as her eyes too made an assessment. Clarke was glad she had decided on the semi-casual red dress she wore. Red was her colour, and this dress was just her cut too. She chided herself then, because what was she doing? Hoping to impress Lexa? She and Lexa had an arrangement, and it did not include anything outside of the four walls of Arkadia, impressive or otherwise.

“Do you know him?!” Octavia accused in her ear, not taking her eyes from the muscular man.

“No,” Clarke turned to her friend, “I know her, that’s Lexa.”

Octavia turned to her friend finally, “are you serious? Work-time-fun-time Lexa?” She grinned mischievously.

“The very one.”

“Hey they're talking to Raven!”

Clarke watched, wide-eyed, as Raven navigated her way through the crowed to reach them after a brief moment speaking with Lexa and her friend.

“Raven,” Clarke began, confused, “do you know them? Lexa and her friend?” As far as she was aware none of her friends knew Lexa.

“I know them through a friend, she’s outside at the moment with a girl who can’t hold her liquor. Only just met them tonight to be honest, they seem cool. You, my friend,” she winked at Octavia, “have made a good impression.” Clarke watched out of the corner of her eye as Lexa frantically spoke into the man’s ear. Clarke felt the stirrings of a bad situation in her belly. Something was happening. “You have been formally challenged to beer pong.”

Clarke sniggered, glad it was Octavia and not herself.

“You too Blondie, team beer pong. You two against Lincoln and Lexa.” Raven smirked knowingly.

Clarke gulped, suddenly parched. The butterflies in her belly seemed to ignite.

“Let’s make this interesting,” Octavia surged forward before Clarke could stop her and her heart seized inside her chest.

She caught up with Octavia in time for the deal to be made.

“Well let’s see,” Lincoln drawled, “if we win we get a kiss.”

Clarke met Lexa’s eye, who opened her mouth to protest but was inevitably interrupted by Octavia. “Done. And if we win,” she tapped her chin under the pretence of pondering, “we earn ourselves slaves for the night.”

Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

“Uhh-” Lexa began.

“Done.”

“Lincoln!”

“Terms have been set!” Raven interjected, “let’s everyone make their way over to the beer pong table!” She promptly shooed another duo who had intended on using the table out of their way.

Now Clarke wasn’t the best beer pong player in the world, she could admit, but she wasn’t the worst either, and Octavia was a force to be reckoned with. And while she might be slightly drunk, she was by no means inebriated beyond comprehension and she knew very well they had scored themselves the better end of this deal. She was excited for this and looked up to find Lexa’s eyes and giggled. She giggled at Lexa, who just shook her head and threw her half a smirk and her butterflies went wild.

--

Lexa took her place beside Lincoln who was busy making eyes at the dark haired girl across from him. “Lincoln, I understand that you’re very much in lust right now and it’s almost impossible for you to process seventy-five percent of what people say to you when you get like this but I will not be Clarke Griffin’s slave. Got it?”

“What?” Lincoln mumbled.

“Lincoln!” Lexa’s heart hammered in her chest.

“I’m kidding Lex, don’t worry,” Lincoln laughed. “As appealing as the idea of being a slave to that woman is, I have your back.”

Lexa let out a relieved breath, “thank you.”

“Let’s kick ass,” Lincoln winked at her and held out a fist.

She met the fist with her own and turned to raise a challenging eyebrow to Clarke. Clarke, who was looking absolutely unbelievable tonight. She outshone almost everyone in the room. It appeared it was all or nothing for the girl. A party was a party, even if it was just Lincoln’s house. In hindsight Lexa could have made more of an effort, but how was she to know Clarke would be here? Not that it should really matter, but now that she thought about it she had probably not approached this night as casual drinks with her team mates. She had foolishly assumed it would be a low-key affair. A true mistake, and an unforgivable one. Nothing Lincoln ever did was half-hearted. Thankfully the party was split almost down the middle with people who had assumed casual and those who had spruced up a bit.

This game wouldn’t last long, she was sure. She and Lincoln had it in the bag. Their accuracy was flawless and Lincoln was a tank. He could probably drink the entire table dry and only have a slight buzz, which Lexa was thankful for. She could hold her alcohol with the best of them but it had been a while since she had drank and she wasn’t sure how much of this cheap beer she could handle without feeling ill. It wouldn’t stop her though, she was nothing if not determined.

The first player was determined upon Raven’s coin toss and Clarke’s exclamation of heads. It was tails and Lexa was given the honours of the initial throw. She decided to start off small and went for the simple bounce throw, she’d leave the more impressive shots to Lincoln. As predicted she had no trouble in landing the first shot dead centre in the first cup. Clarke’s brow knitted together in concern as she reached for the cup and she shared a glance with Octavia. Octavia smirked in reassurance and Clarke turned to tip the cup in Lexa’s direction.

Octavia sank her ball too, to Lincoln’s bark of laughter. Lexa grinned at her friend. It was nice to see Lincoln happy. He sometimes seemed troubled, lost within himself, and though he was always happy and friendly in the presence of Lexa and their friends, the breaks he had in between his solemn moments were a joy to experience. He drank his drink and once again the ball flew through the air and sank into one of the opposite cups. Octavia’s smile died on her lips and her jaw set she drank and handed the ball to Clarke. Clarke missed and Lexa watched a fire ignite in her friend’s eyes.

The game went on, intense and fast. Clarke and her friend, Octavia she thought she’d heard the girl been called by Raven, were good. They were very good.

But they weren’t good enough. Lincoln and herself managed to best them by a small margin, much to Lexa’s relief. Raven’s booming voice proclaimed them the winners and Lincoln stood to collect his prize. The girl didn’t seem too put out to have lost in the end, happy sinking into the kiss amidst cheers from the small crowd who had gathered to watch. Lexa shuffled awkwardly in Clarke’s direction, who for all her confidence and bluster didn’t seem to terribly adept at navigating this situation herself. She nodded toward the stairs in the hopes that she could perhaps escape the watchful eyes of drunken college students for their kiss but Raven had begun a chant that quickly caught on with their audience, “kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss…”

Clarke rolled her eyes and Lexa resigned herself, surging forward and pulling Clarke’s lips to her own with a hand on the back of her neck. Their lips met and it was soft and perfect. No tongue or heavy breathing, as was their usual, but sweet and slow. And it ignited something inside Lexa’s chest that she’d rather push away but it felt good so she kissed Clarke and shut out the world. She felt Clarke’s arms encircle her waist and she sank into her warmth and let it snake its way inside her. Maybe it was the alcohol, but for some reason Clarke Griffin’s kiss seemed to be the focus of her night, as if was entirely leading up to this.

Cat calls and whistles broke them apart. Embarrassed Lexa looked down at the floor and ran her foot over a scuff. She felt Clarke pull her hand and she let herself be led up the stairs and into the kitchen where she busied herself making drinks for them while Clarke’s eyes bore into the back of her head. She couldn’t explain why but she was speechless. She’d long kept her feelings locked up, but the truth was that maybe just a little part of her wasn’t as strictly casual about Clarke as she led herself to believe. And that was certainly the alcohol thinking because she will deny it at the soonest possible sober moment. She caught Clarke’s eye as she passed her vodka coke and Clarke was smirking. Of course she was, back to her confident self.

“I was hoping you’d be my slave,” Clarke mumbled, hooking her finger through one of Lexa’s belt loops and pulling her forward into her personal space.

“Were you now?” Lexa took a sip of her drink, a little strong but she could handle it.

“Yep,” Clarke popped the P, glancing down to her lips, “though the kiss was a good consolation prize.”

Lexa chuckled and nodded and leaned forward for another.

“Clarke!”

Lexa stopped short and frowned, of course they wouldn’t be alone for long.

“No,” Clarke groaned. Lexa stepped away from her and raised an eyebrow at the interruption.

“I was hoping you’d be here,” the boy said.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t be,” Clarke shot back.

Drama. Lexa didn’t do drama. She stepped away but Clarke slipped a hand into hers, preventing her escape. It was perhaps the most intimate thing she had ever done and Lexa felt a blush creep up her neck, thankful that the boy demanded Clarke’s attention in that moment.

“Clarke, can we talk?” He glanced down at their linked fingers.

“Umm,” Clarke pondered, “no.”

Something was happening here, or had happened here, Lexa expertly deduced. Something that was making Clarke uncomfortable. Lexa felt a defensiveness settle in her stomach, a feeling that usually gets her into trouble.

“Please, I’m sorry,” the boy’s eyes bled sincerity.

“She said no. Take a hint,” Lexa spat, spurned on by the feeling bubbling in her belly.

“And you are..?” He threw a dirty look her way, and fuck if provoking Lexa wasn't the stupidest thing the boy could do. 

Lexa laughed, long and nasty. “I’m Lexa. Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m Clarke’s boyfriend,” he spat.

“Ex!” Clarke assured narrowing her eyes at the boy, “we’ve been broken up for almost a year, Finn, you need to stop calling me that.”

“Clarke-” Finn began, reaching for her hand.

Lexa instinctively pulled Clarke away, “let’s go, Clarke, his hair is upsetting me.”

“Hey fuck you, who do you think you are? I’m speaking to Clarke not you.” Finn moved to block their way.

Anger churned in Lexa’s belly, some of it, she’ll admit, a little irrational. This was really Clarke’s business, not hers. She wasn’t entirely sure why she was getting so involved any way. If she were truly intent on keeping to her no drama rule she’d just leave and let them hash whatever it was between them out. But there was something in the way Clarke clung to her hand, as if she were borrowing strength for this encounter, and Lexa would rather she saved both of them the hassle rather than just herself.

“You’re not speaking to me Finn, and I’m not speaking to you either. I’m sure there’s plenty of girls who’d like to talk to you tonight.”

Lexa snorted.

Clarke giggled at her.

Lexa felt her anger uncoil slightly. She put her glass down and grabbed the bottle of vodka from the counter. She’d replace it tomorrow for Lincoln. She caught Clarke’s eye and nodded toward the door. Clarke smiled and followed her.

“Wait!” Finn blocked them, shooting wicked glances Lexa’s way.

“No. I’m having fun tonight Finn, I’m not doing this again. If you want to speak to me please refer back to every single conversation we’ve had in the past ten months and you’ll find your answer somewhere in there. Nothing’s changed. I’ve not changed. I doubt you have changed. I’m leaving.”

Finn gritted his teeth and moved of the way.

“Let’s go to my place,” Clarke grinned at her, and Lexa felt nervous because this was entirely new territory for them. They had never so much as had a conversation outside of work. It felt as if they were playing by entirely new rules now. 

Chapter Text

Lexa clutched the bottle of vodka tightly to her chest as Clarke led them through the house, weaving in and out of drunken partiers expertly. Clarke, she reminded herself, had more than enough experience to navigate their surroundings. She had been at Arkadia for four months, needing the small part-time job to get her through college. Her scholarship unfortunately covered only tuition, everything else came from Lexa’s own pocket. Not that she spent much money, she had learned over the years how to be frugal, and she was no stranger to working hard so she didn’t mind it. Not really. It was better than her last job, a waitressing position at Grounders. Lexa was pretty confident in her placid façade but there was only so many know-it-all customers she could take before visions of violence crept into her mind. In the four months since she’d decided to ditch Grounders and set her sights a little higher than grumbles of inadequate wine she had witnessed countless instances of Jimbeana rearing her ugly head. Clarke’s hangover had been particularly bad the day it had been officially named in honour of the main vice she had indulged in the night before.

No, a job dealing directly with the public didn’t much appeal to Lexa, if she were honest, she had had her patience tried and tested more times than she could count, but there were certain perks to working in Arkadia. One such perk she had experienced in only her first week. Having been trained in several different jobs around the store and having been handed off from one supervisor to another the management in the store had come to the final task she was to learn, only the supervisor for the department she was yet to be introduced to was off that day. They had been short of staff for a while and not having the time to neglect training the new girl fully in one day the management had decided to go with the next best option and pair her with Clarke. She wasn’t the most senior person on the team, it was explained to Lexa, but she showed a lot of potential if she would only apply herself, she could surely be management material! And true to the description Lexa was faced with the sassy blonde who had greeted her happily with a grin and waved off the previous supervisor, Marcus, with a sassy comment and eye roll as she was reminded she would be representing the company so be respectful to the newbie.

And if respectful meant engaging in crass flirting and eye-fucking Lexa for the whole two hour initiation she were providing, then respectful was successfully achieved. When asked by Marcus later if Clarke had been an adequate instructor Lexa hadn’t hesitated to give her a grand sparkling review and informed him that she wouldn’t mind, working with her in the future. Marcus grinned proudly, and though it was clear from Clarke’s initial interaction with him that the man was capable of being quite exhausting, Lexa was warmed by the thought of him investing himself in Clarke’s personal development. Yes, she had decided, this would be a nice place to work and finish out her programme. She only had the year to finish out anyway, and work was 80% about the people you shared the bad aspects of the job with. It helped immensely to be able to rant and rave and make fun of the horrible customers with your co-workers, and she was sure she had already found that in Clarke, even if the girl was wasting her potential.

Just three days later, as she was washing her hands in the sinks of the bathroom of Arkadia, she was introduced to the true potential the blonde held. Clarke exited the cubicle next to the one she herself had just been using. They had been having lunch together, Clarke having been the first friend she made in the store, before Lexa excused herself to use the bathroom. There was a wicked sparkle in Clarke’s eye as she removed herself from the table, the same spark that shone deeply in the girl’s eyes as they met Lexa’s in the mirror. Lexa felt her heartbeat quicken and her face heat up in the intensity of the stare. Clarke had smirked at her blush and moved her hands from her faucet to Lexa’s own, soaping their hands up together. Lexa’s eyebrows rose, because while she enjoyed the sensation of her hands slipping and sliding between Clarke’s own, this was perhaps the oddest way anyone had ever propositioned her. She looked up into Clarke’s eyes and opened her mouth to speak, but her bottom lip was quickly caught by Clarke’s mouth and her breath was stolen from her. She returned the kiss enthusiastically.

She shouldn’t be doing this, a part of her brain told her, this was her workplace! Her new workplace! What if someone walked in? A supervisor, or manager? Is this a good first impression to make? This could even be a fireable offense! It was dangerous, and wrong, and illicit and so so so very fucking hot to have this firey blonde captured within her embrace. Clarke had wasted no time in inching her toward the cubicle they had claimed that first time. It hadn’t been like other first times she’d shared with girls, not sloppy or clumsy. Not marked by stray elbows or awkward rhythms. Clarke knew what she was doing and Lexa was beyond grateful. She’d done her time with virgins, and though each of the girls she had been with was treated with the utmost respect – Lexa never wanted to be the mark in their book that led them to believe girls were assholes – she was happy to finally just be able to fuck and not have to worry about reassurance or feelings or any of the complicated stuff she’d removed herself from since Costia. Clarke was the perfect escape, she’d learned, after coming to terms with the blonde following their bathroom episode.

No strings, just sex. Simple as that. There were other rules that they hadn’t needed to speak aloud. There was no dating each other, no inviting the other over, no feelings. Flirting and playfulness was allowed inside the walls of Arkadia but it would be kept to a minimum around others, and they would not tell any co-workers of their arrangement. The success of this last rule baffled Lexa, there had been countless times they could have, even should have, been caught. Bathroom stalls, security cameras and wandering colleagues had all worked against them, but luck seemed to be on their side always for some reason. Lexa thanked her lucky stars.

The blonde was invigorating, and though Lexa reminded herself frequently that it would not do to become emotionally invested in someone who was not invested in her own future, content to be in Arkadia forever when she was frequently bored, and when the work definitely didn’t push her to exceed her bounds. Lexa could not abide the lack of ambition of the girl. She had been surrounded by ambitionless people before and they were not good influences on those around them. It was contagious, purposelessness, and she would not be affected by it. Lexa was happy for the structured distance from Clarke, if even in times she had yearned to be closer to the girl, to know more about her, to unravel the complicated layers of Clarke. Those times had usually been in her weak moments, her drunken moments when the rigid structures of her life plans were loosened and she let herself live freely.

Currently in one such moment, she let herself be led. Rules and structure be damned. This girl was an enigma that Lexa had longed to unravel from the moment she laid eyes upon her. She was glad she had run into her at Lincoln’s party, though were she sober she would deny it. She was perfectly happy to classify such a random occurrence as a stroke of luck in her inebriated state. She was sober enough to hide the depth of her drunkenness from the pretty blonde guiding her. The cheap beer from beer pong, along with her five or so shots from the game she had played with Anya before Tris once again bailed sloshed not wholly unpleasantly in her stomach. She was sure by the time they reached their destination would be ready enough to begin drinking again. If she said the thought of getting drunk with Clarke was anything less than her number one desire she would be lying.

To her delight Clarke informed her once they had made it outside that she lived close enough that they would walk to her apartment. The cold air wasn’t so sharp that it bit into her skin, but cold enough that it dulled her buzz in a pleasant way. She walked with Clarke, neither mentioning the fact that they were still holding hands, through the dark streets as Clarke sang happily to the stars. Lexa giggled, she wasn’t one for singing but she enjoyed Clarke’s rendition of a current pop favourite. 

Clarke looked her way and grinned wickedly. “Are you laughing at my singing, Lexa?”

“No,” Lexa denied, schooling her features.

Not losing her grin Clarke chuckled and guided them to take a sharp left in the road. “I’ll figure you out someday,” she sighed and swung their hands back and forth.

“Maybe,” Lexa whispered, rubbing the back of Clarke’s hand with her thumb.

Clarke, she was surprised to learn, knew a lot about stars. She pointed out constellations as they weaved their way through the streets, stopping every few minutes for Clarke’s pointing to become surer and revelling in the chances it her to be closer to the warmth of the girl’s body. Their proximity was a wonderful thing to feel, it sparked across her skin initially, and as they drew closer and closer the spark moved lower. Lexa was anxious to get back to Clarke’s home quickly. Thankfully from start to finish the journey took them no more than twenty minutes. Clarke led them up three flights of stairs and Lexa absently wondered if she could count that off her required exercise hours for the week. Obviously not though, she scolded herself, she was hardly the picture of health right now. With all the alcohol she had drank and all she still intended to drink she may have to double her miles this week lest Coach Indra notice.

“What’s wrong?” Clarke asked, turning the key in the door and letting Lexa step into the apartment first.

Nerves tingled in Lexa’s belly. “Nothing important,” she flashed Clarke a smile.

Clarke returned it, “go down the hall, first room on the left. I’ll follow you in a second.”

Lexa did as she was told, slowly making her way through Clarke’s home. She noted the pictures along the wall. Some were obviously compiled by the occupants of the house; there were collages of people and places, the same faces frequenting the frames. There were other wall hangings too, “Love makes this house a Home” and the likes. Lexa giggled at these, they were cute, but she was sure they hung in irony. Clarke just didn’t seem the homemaker type. Lexa turned the corner into the first room on the left and was less than surprised to find herself in Clarke’s bedroom. The room was warm and immediately comforting. Vibrant paintings and pictures and drawings hung on the walls, Lexa found it suited Clarke. It fit her template of the girl she had constructed in her mind. Lexa walked to the bed kicked off her shoes, settling herself down. She tried to control her awe at being in Clarke’s bed. Clarke’s actual bed. Clarke who she’d seen naked a hundred times, heard murmur her name a hundred times in pleasure, been inside of a hundred times, owned a bed. The bed Lexa was testing the springs of, to her approval.

She snapped her eyes up to meet Clarke’s as she entered the room with two glasses and a bottle of Coke and grinned as they noticed the other door leading off from the wall at the far side of the room. “Scored the ensuite, huh?” she asked, accepting the glass Clarke had offered.

Clarke grinned, settling on the other side of the bed. “I drive a hard bargain.”

Lexa poured two generous measures of vodka into the glasses and waited for Clarke to mix them.

“Let’s play a game,” Clarke suggested.

Lexa nodded. “What game?”

“Never have I ever.”

Lexa grimaced.

Clarke eyed her salaciously, “have something to hide, Lexa?”

“Nope,” Lexa checked her facial expression, “lead on.”

Clarke snickered, “alright alright.” She settled herself more comfortably on the bed beside Lexa. “Never have I ever faked an orgasm,” she began.

Lexa watched Clarke as she took her drink. “Come on, Clarke, play fair! Everyone’s faked it at least once,” she complained.

“Nope.” Clarke shook her head. “But I totally knew you had!” She threw her head back and laughed.

“What?” Lexa asked, “how?”

“I can just tell,” Clarke shrugged and smiled at Lexa, “but I hope not with me.” She gave her stern eyes.

“Never with you,” Lexa admitted.

Clare squinted at her, assessing. “Alright.”

“I promise.”

“I believe you,” she giggled. “It’s your turn.”

Lexa smirked, “never have I ever slept with a boy.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and drank. “Never have I ever had sex outside.” Lexa drank. Clarke laughed and drank too. “I just wanted to see.”

Lexa’s eyes lingered on Clarke’s lip as she pulled it into her teeth. “Never have I ever fucked someone in the back of a car.”

Clarke barked out an indignant laugh, “that was a secret!” She drank.

“It’s just us,” Lexa smirked at her, “or are you afraid the walls will let it out?”

“It’s on Woods!”

The game continued on into their second and third and fourth drinks and evolved into salacious conversation on their fifth by which time Lexa had the foresight to settle their glasses on Clarke’s bedside table as the two drunk girls lost the battle with their libidos.

Lexa, emboldened by the alcohol running through her veins pushed Clarke backward hard enough to get a decent bump of her head on the headboard and straddled her lap. She looked to find Clarke’s eyes at the sound but was quickly reassured by the blonde’s lips upon her own. She fought the girl for dominance sloppily, shifting slightly to bunch her dress up around her waist. She was wearing too many clothes and Lexa’s palms prickled with the need to touch her skin. She unzipped the back of it before pulling it haphazardly over her head and flinging it across the room.

She was surprised to find as she once again lost herself in Clarke’s lips and ran her hands up her ribcage that she could feel Clarke’s own hands on her waist, her bare waist. Clarke had made discreet and quick work of her buttons and Lexa shrugged herself out of her shirt, quickly followed by her bra. Alcohol had little effect on Clarke’s deft fingers apparently and Lexa moaned throatily, louder than she ever had before with the luxury of Clarke’s empty apartment as Clarke latched a mouth onto her nipple. She began a rhythm rocking against Clarke’s leg, not caring in the least that she was showing her hand, just craving release. And desiring to bring Clarke, too, to release.

She unlatched Clarke’s bra and let it fall to the floor. The air in the apartment was hot, and heat radiated from Clarke’s mouth. Lexa found it difficult to do much more than breathe, her mind clouded and her nerves all tingling at the point of Clarke’s teeth scraping her nipple and at her clit, still too covered to be satisfied. Lexa whimpered and Clarke was fast to flip her onto her back.

“Fuck Lexa,” Clarke whispered against her skin, moving to her neck and planting a line of kisses there, “keep making those noises. They’re making me so fucking wet.” She nipped along her collarbone, reaching to unbutton Lexa’s jeans.

“Off,” Lexa murmured, lifting her hips.

“Your wish…” Clarke mumbled pulling the tight material down her legs, followed closely by her panties.

It didn’t take long for Clarke to settle herself between Lexa’s legs. Kissing along the inside of her thigh. Lexa whimpered again and tangled her hand in Clarke’s soft locks. She didn’t tug with her need.  Though she was positively dying with desire, she was enjoying the softness of their interaction. The kisses Clarke peppered just up and over her hipbone now were stimulating the fire inside of her and Clarke’s hair tickled along her belly every time the girl moved her head. Lexa felt comfortable, like this was the most relaxing place to be.

“Mmmm Lexa, as much as I would love to tease you all night long, I just really have to-” Clarke pushed a finger into her.

Lexa grunted at the suddenness of it, and once again at the suddenness of the blonde enveloping her clit with her warm mouth and adding a second finger. Lexa was in a state of sensory overload very quickly and enthusiastically canted her hips to the rhythm of Clarke’s fingers and tongue, tugging on her hair as she moaned. “Clarrrrke,” she breathed, looking down and meeting her blue eyes. The sight of Clarke’s face between her legs, lapping at her, desiring to bring her pleasure built Lexa up impossibly fast. Lexa was glad for the alcohol then, it was working to somewhat dull her senses. She wanted to feel Clarke fuck her for longer and she was sure were she not completely trashed this encounter would be over much sooner than she would have liked.

Clarke increased the pace of her fingers, lightly grating her teeth over Lexa’s clit and soothing it back with her tongue quickly after. She settled into a new rhythm with her tongue again after this and Lexa quickly lost her reason, beginning to moan, “right there, right there, right there!” in her build up and some spill forth incoherent thoughts as she grew ever close. Lexa’s legs tightened around Clarke’s head as she curled her fingers inside of her and it was all too much all at once and Lexa came with three uncontrollable deep groans. Clarke grinned and extracted her fingers from inside Lexa to a sigh. She licked Lexa for one last taste, moaning herself. “You taste so good,” she whispered.

Lexa mumbled happily, still riding her high and running her hands through Clarke’s hair as she began planting kisses once again along Lexa’s belly. Lexa tugged Clarke upward and she crawled up Lexa’s lax body to meet her mouth in a devilish kiss. It was heated enough to remind Lexa, in her happy, drunken, sated state that Clarke had yet to actually come. She quickly and somewhat sloppily reversed their positions, to Clarke’s gleeful chuckle. Lexa smirked down at the other girl and quickly claimed her lips in a hot kiss that got the dozing butterflies in her tummy to begin to flutter again. How was it that she had managed to win this prize?

She moved her hands down Clarke’s body, stopping to roll a nipple between her fingers to Clarke’s apparent pleasure.

“Please,” the girl mumbled against her lips and fuck if Lexa wasn’t a sucker for some begging.

She descended the rest of the way down Clarke’s body, loving the softness of her skin and the way she smelled distinctly of Clarke. She almost didn’t want to ask the girl what perfume she used, happy to leave it to be part of the mystery of who the girl was.

Lexa made quick work of her panties and hooked Clarke’s legs over her shoulders. She stared at Clarke for a few moments, enough time for Clarke to grow uneasy and shuffle her hips back and forth in encouragement, but Lexa couldn’t help it. She was beautiful. So beautiful and so wet. Lexa ran two fingers from her slit upward until she hit the spot that made Clarke moan and buck. She ran her fingers lightly in a circle around her clit, the way she knew Clarke liked before taking them from her and licking her fingers. Lexa moaned and closed her eyes at the taste, so beautifully Clarke.

“Lexa,” Clarke breathed, demanding her attention. Lexa looked up and met her eyes as she sank two fingers into the girl and watched as her eyes rolled back when she found the rhythm that always, always, had Clarke coming undone. She leaned forward and ran her tongue expertly around her clit, content to be here forever, buried inside and making glorious work of Clarke. She wasn’t sure when she had become so at home between Clarke’s legs but she was sure now as she heard Clarke’s breathing build up and her walls begin to flutter around her fingers that it was one of the most unforgettable places she would ever find herself. As Lexa pondered the wonder of her Clarke came hard with a cry of pleasure and slumped against the mattress, boneless. Lexa nuzzled the inside of her hip, and she would have fallen asleep there, had it not be for the blonde’s insistence on their heads finding pillows and assuming the place of big spoon.

Lexa drifted to sleep happily in arms she had never thought she would find herself in.

Chapter Text

Clarke woke warm and content and stretched just a little, testing the boundaries of her hangover. She ran through her short mental checklist. She hadn’t got a headache, nor an upset stomach so this counted for a win. She felt a little rough around the edges, but nothing that a glass of water and painkiller wouldn’t fix. She committed to the stretch more fully, snaking her arm across to the other side of the bed and finding it empty. Clarke frowned to herself, recalling the events of the night before.

She had been a bit out of sorts having found Lexa, not usually nervous in the girl’s presence, not usually nervous in any girl’s presence these days, or boys for that matter. So what was that all about? Why had it taken her a good long while to calm the butterflies she had felt? That was not something she was used to, in fact it had been quite some time since anyone she was interested in has had that effect on her let alone Lexa. It was just Lexa, right? Lexa who was annoyed at being five minutes late to work, whose uniform was always in perfect condition, who abided the rules to the letter. How had this girl given her butterflies? She was Clarke goddamn Griffin. And she had kind of loved it.

She burrowed further under her pillow to counter the gnawing disappointment at not finding Lexa snuggled into her the way they had fallen asleep. It had taken Clarke a little bit longer to sleep than Lexa, who seemed to immediately doze off as soon as she was comfortable. Clarke herself had spent some time gathering Lexa’s hair and swooping it over the girl’s shoulder. If she hadn’t it would have been in her mouth all night, she told herself. And if it had also given her an excellent view of a tight jawline and plump lips glistening softly in the moon’s glow, well, that was entirely accidental. Clarke had watched her for a while, unsure why but determined to commit the moment to memory.

Beer pong had been fun, Lexa was definitely talented. Clarke shouldn’t be surprised, not really, she was always the picture of grace. Even the way she walked and held herself oozed elegance. She recalled the way Lexa’s lithe form had moved beneath her own last night, free and light. Each movement had a purpose, was an expression. There was nothing wasted in it. There was no arm thrown over eyes, no attempt to cover up as Clarke had witnessed so many times with girls, with boys. She was wild and unrestricted and confident in her pleasure. So very unlike their other encounters, rushed and messy and marked by a fearfulness. Lexa would be terribly embarrassed to be caught fucking in Arkadia. Clarke felt slightly guilty for playing on this at times, moaning a little louder than perhaps she should be or blatantly pulling Lexa away from conversations with others to visit their sex stall. She herself wasn’t overly scared of being caught. So what? It was a stupid job, she cared about her co-workers but she felt no real responsibility for her position. And she wondered at this, at when she had begun to feel like she could throw it all away because she felt no responsibility. Wasn’t the reason she left medicine because she felt too much responsibility? The intrusive thoughts of paths abandoned were becoming much more frequent lately. She wouldn’t be able to run from them much longer.

They had run into Finn right after the game. He didn’t even have the decency to let them finish their drinks before imposing himself on them. Clarke was really getting irritated with the boy. It wasn’t enough that he had to break her heart, her confidence, her trust, he had to also have forgiveness for it. Well, it might be petty, but Clarke just wasn’t ready to grant that. She felt nothing but anger when she saw his face, well aware that he wanted another chance with her. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t be worth giving time to. He had been a good boyfriend before he cheated, he was funny and kind and attentive. Clarke marvelled sometimes at how one incident could destroy a relationship but that was the way of things, she supposed. His was an unforgivable act and she would be pleased were he to just leave her alone now and stop ruining her nights. Lexa though, she had to laugh to herself, had been a delight to have with her at that point. She wasn’t sure how much the girl knew about her ex, she herself had never spoken of him, but something inside of her must have told her that she wasn’t to like him. She had cracked jokes the likes of which Clarke had never heard on the girl’s lips before, and it had made the situation that much lighter and bearable. Clarke was grateful. In a strange way it provided her with some perspective.

She signed to herself and once again swallowed against the disappointment at finding herself alone, at the nagging persistence of her own conscience telling her to get her shit together and at melancholy over the fragility of relationships. She knew it wasn’t yet morning but pushed herself up anyway, intent on finding water and a painkiller in a pre-emptive strike against a hangover. That would be the last thing she needed while she was dealing with all the conflicting emotions she held. The light in her bathroom was on, and she wondered at that because she never left it on. Lexa must have before she left. Clarke shuffled sleepily over to switch it off but stopped dead in her tracks. Laughter bubbled in her chest in humour and also elation. The girl hadn’t left, hadn’t snuck out like a bandit in the night. She was curled on the ground in Clarke’s own oversized robe, clearly not handling her alcohol as well as Clarke practised liver.

“Lexa?”

“Nooo,” she groaned. “Lexa’s not here right now.”

Clarke giggled. Perhaps she had been too quick to assume elegance.

She walked over and knelt beside her, feeling her forehead with the back of her hand. “No fever, I diagnose a hangover.”

Lexa groaned.

“You okay?” Clarke asked, redundantly, not really knowing what else to say.

Lexa nodded, which quickly turned into shaking her head. “No. I’ma be sick.” She squeezed her eyes tightly.

Though she couldn’t see her face, Clarke smiled sympathetically. “I’ll be right back.” She left the bathroom quickly, and a little unsteadily on her sleepy feet, to gather vital booze-gone-bad supplies. She made her way back into the bathroom quickly, not wanting to leave the girl alone for too long, only to find her bent over the toilet heaving the contents of her stomach up. Clarke dropped her supplies and made her way over to Lexa, holding her hair back. Thick and tousled as it was though it got tangled in Clarke’s fingers and some of it found its way into Lexa’s next round of heaving. Clarke bit her lip a little guiltily as Lexa once again groaned in self-pity, slumping slightly against the toilet. “All done?” she asked.  

Lexa nodded. “Think so.”

“Good,” Clarke soothed. She let Lexa catch her breath for a moment before guiding her to the sink and handing her a spare toothbrush. She took a moment to look the girl over, face flushed and forehead slightly sweaty. As she stepped away she swayed slightly, clearly unsteady on her feet, and very obviously still drunk. Clarke chuckled, a little bit amused despite the situation at hand, the utter absurdity of it, and Lexa threw her a glare before proceeding to brush her teeth. Clarke turned and leaned over to turn the shower on, keeping a steadying hand on Lexa’s back. She let the water run for a few moments while Lexa continued to brush her teeth. Clarke handed her mouthwash when she was finished, encouraging her to take a generous portion. Lexa obliged and threw Clarke a quizzical look, eyeing the shower. “Trust me,” Clarke said, leading her over to the shower after she had spit.

Lexa let herself be led and disrobed by the blonde, who stepped into the shower with her. “Why are we in the shower, Clarke? Can’t we do this in the morning?”

“You’ll feel better, I promise,” Clarke reassured, guiding Lexa to lean her head back under the water. “Also, I got vomit in your hair by accident.”

“‘S’all your fault,” Lexa mumbled against her shoulder, but she felt the smile that spread on the girl’s face.

Clarke laughed at the ridiculousness of it, the statement and the position she found herself in, and happiness blossomed within her chest as she lathered Lexa’s hair with shampoo and began massaging it in. There was something just so simple in it, washing Lexa’s hair as she leaned on her slightly for support. Something that really sparked inside of her.

“Mmm,” she groaned, “Clarke.”

“Yes?” Clarke asked, turning her head slightly under the spray of water to see the Lexa’s face.

She shrugged her shoulders slightly, tightening her hold around Clarke’s bare waist. “Feels good.”

Clarke pressed a kiss to her forehead before leaning it back slightly to rinse the remaining shampoo out. “Keep your eyes closed, Lexa.”

Lexa nodded. She wasn’t feeling the best by any means. Her stomach still roiled unpleasantly and her head was beginning to twinge in the bright bathroom light. But the warm water, the feeling of a minty fresh mouth and the ministrations of Clarke, so very attentive, made her feel a thousand times more relaxed. “Clarke,” she breathed again, dozily.

“Yes?” She answered, running conditioner through Lexa’s hair.

“You should take care of people. You’re good at it,” she mumbled.

Clarke’s hands froze for half a second as her heart beat heavily. “My dad used to tell me that,” she recalled. And it struck a chord within her, because ever since he’d died she hadn’t thought about this, about how he had seen something in her nature and encouraged it. All she had thought since that moment was how intrusive her mother’s desire for her to be in medicine was, and how stifling the environment would be for her day in day out.

“Wise man,” Lexa mumbled against her skin, planting a little kiss there.

“He was,” Clarke whispered. And he was, and for some reason it didn’t hurt so much to recall him like this. Under the water and the weight of the girl she never thought she’d have in her arms it wasn’t so bad to remember him and the opinions she was keeping suppressed.

“Was,” Lexa murmured. “Was?”

“He died,” Clarke answered, running her hands through the silkiness of her hair. “About a year ago.”

She felt Lexa’s eyelashes flutter against her neck as her hold tightened and she burrowed into her a little tighter, “I’m sorry.”

Clarke nodded, appreciative of the sympathy. She would not say it’s okay, and laugh it off as she usually would when the unpleasant topic of her father’s untimely death stole the conversation. She was not okay. She would never be okay about it. It was sad and painful and it permeated her thoughts and feelings much of the time. She didn’t speak of it much, not wanting people to associate her with damage and loss. She needed to keep her life as uncomplicated as possible, and that meant being fun and happy and having a good time. People stepping on eggshells around her really messed with that. For some reason, though, she didn’t much feel like pretending with Lexa.

Clarke finished off their shower, quickly soaping up Lexa and herself and rinsing off. Lexa didn’t do much to help, aside from running soapy hands along Clarke’s hips and waist and breasts under the guise of cleaning. Clarke chuckled at her. She didn’t think Lexa would even be able to follow through on any of her actions in the state she was in, but it was cute all the same. She led them to the bedroom where Lexa sat with her head balanced on her knees while Clarke dried her hair. Clarke forced her to drink some water and take some painkillers, despite the girl’s protests. Eventually, after Clarke had done everything that she could think of to make the probable horror of a morning Lexa was sure to endure a little better they settled into bed. Lexa curled into her side, placing a kiss on her neck. “Thank you, Clarke.”

“Anytime, Lexa,” she whispered back, kissing her forehead.


Clarke woke in the same position as she had fallen asleep the night before. Lexa, it seemed, had made herself more comfortable in her slumber, throwing a leg across Clarke’s and winding a hand around her waist. Clarke struggled to extract herself but she needed to use the bathroom. Lexa’s knee had been pushing into her bladder for hours apparently. She quietly removed the stray limbs and made her way into the bathroom quietly, listening to the incoherent mumbles coming from her bed. Not wanting to be away too long she hurried back as soon as she could and snuggled back into Lexa’s warmth.

“Lexa,” she whispered, slightly giddy.

Lexa shook her head and burrowed into her collarbone.

“Lexa,” she giggled.

“No.”

“Wake up.” She nudged her.

“Why?” she whined.

Why? Clarke wondered why she would want Lexa to wake too. She had no reason. No logical reason, that is. She just wanted to see the morning burn in her bright eyes. She pondered this, and quietly let sleep pull Lexa back under.

Inspiration stole over Clarke and she made a grab for her sketchbook on her bedside table, quickly settling it on her lap. Sunlight bled into her room in thin streams around where her curtains failed to completely cover her windows and draped streams of light over Lexa’s sleeping form. She was a sight to behold. Completely, totally and utterly beautiful. Excitement ran through Clarke’s veins, as it only did when she was completely engrossed in a sketch. She grafted the structures underlying her lover’s cheekbones, jawline, and forehead to the smooth unblemished skin in skilful swipes of her pencil. She continued on down toward the slope of her neck and the swell of her breasts, and down to the waist slightly covered by the thin sheet that had pooled there. Every part of this girl was magnificent and Clarke wondered, madly, how it had taken her so long to realise this. To realise that what was right in front of her was just what she had been needing.

Clarke sketched for longer than she could gage time. Lexa to her credit was a wonderful model, barely moving an inch. Clarke finished off her drawing, or rather finished her first sitting. She knew very well she would go back to it again and again until it was perfect. But for now her eyes could find no improvements on it. It would never be as perfect as the girl currently laying in her bed. Clarke closed her sketchbook and hooked her pencil into the bindings, shoving it under her bed before crawling back up and looking Lexa’s face over.

She planted a gentle kiss below her ear, snaking an arm around her form to anchor herself and moving down to her neck to lay more kisses there. Lexa loved this, she knew. She had been sure since the moment she had first done it. No matter how Lexa protested, always half-heartedly, this was her undoing. She came apart whimpering and jelly-like under Clarke’s attentions to her neck more times than Clarke could count. She would do more of this in future, Clarke decided. And she was rewarded, a very short time into her ministrations by a soft moan from the girl herself and a hand weaving into her hair.

Clarke smirked, continuing lightly. She considered throwing her teeth into the game, but Lexa was sleepy and Clarke herself was feeling a little on the delicate side this morning. She settled her weight onto one elbow and traced the path of Lexa’s waist up to her soft breast and kneaded lightly, lingering for some time until she felt Lexa’s quiet moans becoming more frequent and her hips begin to join in somewhat.

Clarke shifted again, bringing a leg up between Lexa’s who immediately ground her hips into it. “Clarke,” she groaned, her voice tight with sleep.

“Mmm,” Clarke replied, moving to tease her tongue around Lexa’s nipple.

Lexa’s eyes opened for the first time and she met Clarke’s, and Clarke was not disappointed. The sun glinted off her irises beautifully and Clarke too moaned. Lexa ground her pelvis into Clarke’s hipbone at the sound.

Clarke moved her hand to Lexa’s leg, bent at the knee, foot resting on the bed, and moved her fingers in light patterns up her thigh before finding her wet and ready. But Clarke wasn’t ready. Just wasn't ready yet to give up her exploration. She spent some time just feeling her. Feeling how each movement rumbled in the girl’s chest and how it made her hips cant in a different intensity when she moved in different ways and Clarke loved it. Loved learning this. Because it had never been like this before, ever. She had never spent this much time just worshipping Lexa. Even last night, the first time outside of work, they had been so drunk that it was more of a desperate need than an experience. And Lexa was an experience. The entirety of her was a puzzle Clarke needed to solve.

Clarke inched her way back to Lexa’s neck, intent on bringing the girl as much pleasure as she could muster, sure she was still feeling the effects of her over-indulgence the night before. Lexa’s breathing was heavy and she clung to Clarke, scraping her short nails up and along her back. 

“Clarke,” she moaned.

“Mmm,” Clarke replied once again, vibrating into her neck.

“Please?”

And how could Clarke refuse. It made her own need jump into stark realisation, to have Lexa begging under her. She straddled her thigh, Lexa helpfully propping it up against the bed to grant more friction, and slid two fingers into her. She was rewarded by a deep groan from the girl, a groan that turned slightly pitched as her thumb found her clit and her hips canted to the same rhythm as her fingers.

Lexa’s hands moved to Clarke’s hips, helping guide the girl a little easier along her thigh as she mumbled into her ear, “you’re so wet.”

Clarke nodded against her neck, overcome by how quickly she was building toward her climax and not half sure if she could hang on until after Lexa had come. “I know,” she groaned breathless, detaching herself from Lexa’s neck and resting her forehead against the girl’s beneath her. Their lips met in a soft kiss and Clarke felt herself come with a light sigh.

Lexa followed soon after, glistening and sated and snickered lightly as the blonde slumped against her. “Good morning, Clarke.”

“Yes. Yes it is.”