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"So, would you want to knot me?"
Clarke was actually trying not to make Bellamy choke with the question, but apparently she miscalculated. Beer sprays out his nose and he has a coughing fit severe enough she has to thump him on the back. It's not the ideal reaction when you ask if someone wants to fuck you, but she was prepared for it. That's why she's doing this on her couch instead of the bar where they usually get Friday night drinks.
"What," he finally gets out, too flat and strangled to really count as a question.
"I've never actually gotten knotted when I'm in heat," she admits. "I feel like I should try it."
As she hoped, the confession distracts him from the actual request, and he looks at her thoughtfully. "Never? Really?"
"All the alphas I've dated while I'm in heat have been girls. And sex with alpha girls is awesome, don't get me wrong. But it's getting to that point where not having had a knot feels like a statement instead of just something that hasn't happened yet. And the last thing I want is to start dating an alpha who realizes I've never gotten knotted and makes it into a whole thing. Like I was waiting for him or something."
"So you're making it into a thing instead?"
"Society and biology made it into a thing, I'm just trying to live with it."
Bellamy taps the side of his glass. "You really think I'm your best choice?"
"It's either you or finding a random guy. I don't know any other single alphas." As soon as she says it, she knows it's the wrong thing. Bellamy pulls a face and she hastens to add, "That came out wrong."
"Yeah?"
"I'm not against stud clubs," she says, meaning it. Stud clubs are one of those services she really appreciates, a safe place for omegas who miss their medication to go and get knotted, no strings attached. Bellamy worked in one during college and the knowledge was always there in the back of Clarke's mind, the idea that if she went in, she might get assigned to him. That knowledge was probably the number-one reason she never actually went to one herself back then. If she hadn't gotten him, it would have been a total letdown, but if she had, it would have been even more awkward. "But I don't do well with strangers, you know that. I want someone I trust. But you did the stud club thing, so I know you can knot people without getting possessive--"
"I was fucking random people," says Bellamy. "Fucking someone you're never going to see again is different from fucking a friend."
"You fucked Raven after Finn too," she points out. Finn was the closest she came to letting an alpha knot her, but everything with Raven blew up before her first heat cycle came around. "You're not that kind of alpha."
"Not so far."
She's a week out from her heat, but it makes something warm curl in her stomach anyway. "Is that something you'd worry about?"
"Of course. When I did the stud club on campus, I was stressed about it all the time. What if one of the omegas I knotted got a boyfriend and I walked by them and got jealous? It never happened, but it could have. And I know you. If we have sex and then you start dating another alpha, it could go really badly. Raven was honestly a stupid risk, but I hated Finn enough that I did it anyway."
The warmth dies, which is probably good. Clarke wants to get good and fucked by an alpha who knows what he's doing, and Bellamy is far and away the best choice for that, aside from the slight problem that he's her favorite person. He's still her best choice, but the fewer warm and fuzzy feelings she has about him, the better.
"It wears off after a couple heat cycles, right?"
"Generally."
"So I just don't date anyone for a couple months, and by the time I do, you'll be fine."
He turns to fully face her, giving her a look that's pure alpha. Bellamy's one of those guys who really can just turn it on whenever he wants, going from this kind of average, unassuming guy who blends in with a crowd to someone who commands attention at the drop of a hat.
"Clarke."
"Bellamy."
"What's this really about?"
"I got my first heat when I was fifteen, and I've been on suppressants that whole time. A couple times, with girlfriends, I went off them and I had a blast, but I haven't even done that since college. And I want to."
"So why now? What happened? Don't act like there wasn't an inciting event. Tell me," he adds, in his stupid alpha growl, and she glares through the rush of arousal.
"That's cheating."
Instantly, he's Bellamy again, shrugging off the dominance like a loose coat. "You're the one who asked me to knot you, I thought you might be into it. What's the timeline on that, anyway? When are you going into heat?"
"Not until next week." She leans forward on the couch with a sigh. "Honestly? I got your sister's wedding invitation."
"And you were like, wow, I should fuck her brother?"
"I was about a week out from asking Lincoln to knot me when he started dating Octavia. And I'm happy for them, obviously, I'm not actually into him. But my first thought was, I should have asked him to knot me when I had the chance."
"So now you're asking me."
"I get it if you don't want to. But I want to try it at least once, and it seemed stupid to go to a stud club without asking you first."
"It could go really, really wrong."
"How? I know it's my first knot, but I'm pretty sure we both know how sex works."
"I'm serious. We have no idea what our hormones are going to do. I could become a totally possessive asshole."
"Once I'm back on the suppressants, you'll snap out of it."
His jaw works. "You're sure?" is what he finally asks. "You'll risk it?"
Bellamy is a good friend. Her best friend. If this fucks up her relationship with him, it's going to suck, but it's already kind of fucked, because as soon as she had the thought I could ask Bellamy, that was all she could think about. It didn't exactly seem like a good idea as much as something she really, really wanted to do, and she's pretty sure she's going to think about it until it happens. She's already doomed.
"I will if you will."
He takes another long sip of beer. "Okay, let's talk logistics."
She laughs. "Logistics?"
"You're probably going to say a lot of things when you're in heat. It's hard to tell what's hormones and what's real. I don't want to cross any lines."
Her first impulse is to assure him that it's fine and he won't. But he looks worried, and he's doing her a favor. The least she can do is take his requests seriously. "What are you comfortable with?" she asks. "Stud club is pretty strict with rules, right?"
"Omegas on all fours, no foreplay, no eye contact. As clinical as possible. They don't want people to rely on them, so it's supposed to be purely, uh, medical."
"So there wasn't a lot of repeat business?"
"Some people really are bad at remembering to take their medications, and some people just like getting knotted. I'm sure there are omegas who go every cycle. But you're not even allowed to go to the same location two heats in a row, they'll kick you out. One of the alphas might scent you, and the last thing anyone wants is employees fighting over people they're not even supposed to be invested in in the first place."
Clarke nudges him. "I appreciate the background, but you didn't actually answer my question. I like sex. I like kissing and foreplay. We don't have to do that and it's fine if you're not comfortable with it, but I don't want to ask you for something you're not comfortable with."
"I like sex and kissing and foreplay too. Assume if I'm asking you about something, I'm good with either answer. Is this one and done or, like, sex weekend?"
There's a smart answer to this question, but Clarke's not giving it. "Sex weekend sounds awesome."
"It has been a while since you got laid."
"You're one to talk."
He doesn't deny it. "I'm wearing condoms," he says. "That's non-negotiable."
"I wasn't planning to try to negotiate."
"Some people do."
"Can I give blanket consent?" she asks. "If I ask for something and you're comfortable with it, you can do it. You know I trust you."
"I do know." He looks down at his hands. "I don't want to cross a line and lose you, Clarke. I meant it when I said I got lucky with Raven. I like sex, but you're a lot more important to me than having a fun weekend."
"Is there a specific thing you're worried about?"
"My self control?" He smiles, wry. "I'm going to be into this."
A shiver runs up her spine. "Okay, well. I like getting marked up, but it would be easier if you didn't mark me anywhere my clothes don't cover. I hate when my coworkers ask about my personal life, and hickeys are pretty obvious. I like being on top, but I know a lot of alphas aren't into that. Even with suppressants, I tend to get off a lot when I'm in heat, so I'm going to be horny. I don't mind if you get a little rough. And you're still going to be my best friend."
"Cool. I'm going to give you a ton of hickeys."
"Awesome," says Clarke, settling back on the couch and putting her feet on the coffee table. "Can't wait."
*
The problem with planning sex in advance is that Clarke is impatient. Knowing she's going to fuck Bellamy in a week is great, but she also wants to just fuck him now. Which wouldn't have to be a problem, but they're not upgrading to friends with benefits, they're just fucking once, this one time. And that's the right call, because it's hard for alphas and omegas to just have casual sex. Clarke doesn't have any doubts about Bellamy's ability to compartmentalize and not get attached, but she's already too invested in this, and there's only so much either of them can do to fight biology. There's medication you can take to break pheromonal bonds, but it's a pain, and it seems stupid to build up a bunch of hormonal attachment to her best friend just because she hasn't gotten laid in a while.
So instead, she just spends a week horny and dissatisfied. She and Bellamy talk as much as ever, texting while they're at work and about what TV they're watching. On Friday, they go out for drinks, and even though her heat is still a day away, Bellamy takes one look at her and says, "Jesus, we're going to your place."
"What?"
"I know you can't smell yourself, but you're going to get hit on non-stop if we stay here. Which could work if you want to try to find another alpha to fuck this weekend, but…"
Clarke rolls her eyes. "Yeah, we can go to my place."
They have to walk a block so he can pick up his car, but being outside in the cool air clears her head a bit. She knew she was excited, but no one had mentioned she was leaking pheromones everywhere. Hopefully she wasn't that bad at work.
"Did you take Monday off?" Bellamy asks.
"Yeah."
"Probably good. It'll, uh--" He rubs the back of his neck. "The smell will get better once you've been knotted once."
"So this is a good idea."
"It would also be fine if you were just taking suppressants, so, no, this still might be a disaster."
"Sorry I'm excited," she teases, and he laughs.
"You should be. I could smell you as soon as I walked in."
"And that's not going to be a problem at my place?"
"I could probably stay the night," he offers, hesitant, like he's been thinking about it for a while and didn't know how to bring it up. "I know I'm going to get laid this weekend, I don't mind being patient. But I'd have trouble leaving."
"So you should stay," she says, and he smiles.
It's still a little awkward, once they get there. It feels like things should be different, knowing what they'll be doing tomorrow, but tonight, they're still just friends hanging out. Nothing weird at all.
"You're a fucking mess," Bellamy says after about half an hour, and he puts his arm around her, tugging her in close. The relief of it is immediate, his scent wrapping her up and calming her down, reassuring her that he's here and he's going to take care of her. "If it was bothering you this much, why didn't you do this sooner?"
She snuggles in without really thinking about it, desperate for more contact. "You know it took me a year to get a cat after I finished college?"
"No. That's probably your weirdest subject change ever."
"It's not a subject change, I swear. I had getting a cat filed away as something I wanted to do, someday, when I was ready, and it took me a year to realize that there wasn't a test I had to pass or some official day when I'd be approved to have a cat. I could just get a cat because I was ready to have a cat. But I thought I had to wait for something."
"So, what, you were waiting around for some divine sign you should get knotted?"
"At first I thought it would happen naturally, then with Lincoln, and then I just kind of forgot about it. But that doesn't mean I didn't want it."
"We were already friends when Octavia and Lincoln started dating," he says, after a long pause. "But you didn't ask me to do this back then."
There's no question there, so technically she doesn't have to answer. And it's tempting not to. The truth is, she'd dismissed Bellamy back then because she'd just realized she had a crush on him, and casual sex seemed out of reach. But it's been two years, and it's easy to put those feelings on the backburner. Bellamy's not interested in her, and she doesn't have to be interested in him either. They can have sex, and it might ruin her for alpha guys, but that's fine. She has plenty of other dating options. And she'd rather have this once than never know.
"I knew it wouldn't get weird with Lincoln. I thought it might get weird with you."
"And now you think it won't?"
"We're better friends now."
He laughs. "And you think that makes having sex less weird?"
"I think we'll be okay." She bites her lip, but she owes him the most honesty she can give him. "I want to do this with you. More than I wanted to do it with Lincoln. It's not because you're my only option. I think you're the best option."
"Fuck it," he mutters, and pulls her into his lap to kiss her.
It's not as overwhelming as it will be tomorrow, but Clarke's kind of grateful for that. His lips are warm and firm, and she still has enough brainpower to notice things like that, to notice the breadth of his chest and the way his hands slide up her back, to think about what she wants and go for it. She tangles her hands in his hair, making him groan, and tugs on his bottom lip with her teeth, and grinds down on his lap until he pushes back.
"I can't believe you gave me a week's notice," he groans, moving his mouth down her neck. "A fucking week, Clarke."
"What's the ideal amount of notice for me wanting you to fuck me?" she asks, breathless. "You were the one who wanted to double-check about consent."
He bites her shoulder. "An hour, tops."
"You know, if you fuck me tonight, that would be good," she points out. She's got a whole argument lined up, how it'll be helpful to compare and contrast how it is sleeping with him before and during heat, but he just smirks.
"It's going to be good every time I fuck you." His voice is pure alpha, and Clarke shudders, full bodied and desperate.
"Yeah, it is." She wets her lips. "You know, I have a really nice bed. We could be making out there instead."
He picks her up in one fluid motion, kisses her again for good measure. "Good idea. We should definitely do that."
*
Clarke wakes up sore and happy and horny as hell, with Bellamy half on top of her, his arm still curled possessively around her stomach. He'd gotten her off with his mouth until she was begging for his dick, which was amazing even without the full knotting experience she'll get now that she's in heat. She doesn't actually remember falling asleep, but she knows she was in his arms, warm and content and very well-fucked. And the warmth and contentment are still there, but heat has definitely hit, and all she can think about is having him again. As much as possible.
"Bellamy," she says, shaking his arm.
He makes a groggy noise. "I'll knot you in like an hour," he says. "Go back to sleep."
"I need to go to the bathroom."
He releases her and flops onto his back, eyes still closed, so Clarke gets to admire him. With a little distance, the desperate need to climb on top of him is muffled, and she just gets to enjoy his broad, freckled chest and how good he looks sprawled across her bed.
She's not sure she'll be able to let him sleep if she goes back to the bed, so she pulls on some pajama pants and a tanktop and goes to the kitchen instead. She gets coffee going and checks her fridge for something resembling breakfast. Cooking has never been her forte, but she does know that staying hydrated and fed is important during heat, so she at least stocked up on supplies. She feeds the cat and gives her some attention, and by the time Bellamy drags himself out of bed, she's on the couch with a book and a cup of coffee, Lyra curled into her side.
"Morning," says Bellamy. He's wearing nothing but boxers, his hair is a mess, and he looks more than a little awkward. "You could have come back to bed."
"I didn't trust myself to not just climb on top of you."
The tension breaks as he laughs. "Yeah, okay. Thanks for resisting. I was tired."
"There's coffee in the kitchen. And cereal."
"Thanks." He comes back with coffee and sits on the other side of the room from her. "Are we good?"
"I think so," says Clarke. "I had a great time last night and I want to fuck you all weekend. Does that count as good?"
"Jesus, let me eat first," he says, but he's laughing.
She was expecting to be a little more wild with want, but she's pretty sure that's coming. The anticipation is tingling under her skin, but she thinks having sex last night took the edge off. And she knows he's going to fuck her soon, that he's going to take care of her. As soon as he touches her, she's going to lose it, but she can wait.
"Did you take Monday off?" she asks, curious. She'll need a day for her suppressants to kick in until the end of her heat, but Bellamy should be okay.
"Yeah. Just in case."
He doesn't say in case of what, and she doesn't ask.
The awkwardness sets in again as they drink their coffee. It's not the first morning they've spent together, but they usually have a plan other than fucking for the rest of the day. Something to talk about that isn't how she already had the best sex of her life with him last night, and she's expecting today to be even better, and after this, they're just going to go back to being friends, somehow.
It's not a great thing to be thinking about, and talking about it would just make it worse.
She finishes her coffee and brushes her teeth, and then sticks her head into the living room. "I'm going to be naked in bed," she decides. "See you when you're ready."
He coughs, but he's not actually choking this time. "Uh, okay, yeah. Sounds good. I'll be there in a minute."
In the bedroom, Clarke puts the covers in order, not quite making the bed, but at least making it presentable. She double-checks her condom supply and then strips down, tucks herself under the newly straightened covers, and pulls up Bejeweled on her phone. Her heat is present at the back of her mind, a persistent need that will get worse and worse until she gets good and fucked, but it's not crippling yet.
Bellamy joins her a few minutes later, but he doesn't actually come all the way to the bed, lingering in the doorway instead, watching her with an unreadable expression. "I'm going to ask if you're sure one more time."
"If it makes you feel better," she says. "I'm sure, and if you don't get in here soon, I'm going to get started without you."
"Yeah?" He leans against the doorframe, getting comfortable. "What would you start with?"
Clarke pushes the covers off herself, watching in satisfaction as Bellamy's eyes trace up and down her naked body. His nostrils flare as her scent hits him too, and she's pretty sure his self control isn't going to make it through her first orgasm. Which is fine by her; touching herself is fun, but if Bellamy's around she'd much rather have him touching her.
"I like to take my time," she says, cupping her breast and flicking her thumb over the nipple. "I've got some pretty good toys, but I like to tease myself. If I'm going to spend the morning in bed, I want it to be worth it."
She slides her other hand down her stomach, between her legs, feeling sparks race across her skin when she touches her clit. It's been at least five years since she skipped her suppressants during heat and she forgot how good it feels, the raw, desperate need flaring up now that she's letting it.
"Jesus, Clarke."
"Last night was so good," she says. "This is fine, but now I know how much better you are. I can't wait for you to just get over here and help me out."
"But you're putting on such a good show for me."
She slides her fingers lower from her clit to her cunt. "I forgot how wet I get when I'm not on suppressants. You could knot me right now, I'm so ready."
"Not until you're begging me," he says, and just his voice is enough to make her moan.
"I can beg. I'll beg whenever you want. Please, Bellamy, get over here, fucking touch me--"
Her eyes are closed, but she can smell him coming, and she turns her head towards him, letting him take her lips in a rough kiss. Her whole body bursts into awareness at the scent of him, the primal need for an alpha to take her pushing all other thoughts out of her brain. He's here and he's going to take care of her.
"I've got you," he murmurs, like he's reading her mind. "Gonna be so good for you, Clarke."
His hand joins hers between her legs, his fingers firm as he rubs her clit. Clarke buries her face against his neck, breathing him in, and he laughs, low and hot, and takes his hand away.
"Bellamy--" she starts, but he cuts her off with a kiss, crowding on top of her with his thigh between her legs. He lost the boxers, she's not sure when, and when she arches up, he pushes back against her, letting her rub against his thigh to get the friction she's craving.
"Trust me, okay?" he says, and doesn't wait for a response before he's sucking a deep mark into her breast.
She comes fast the first time, but it doesn't really help much. Her body knows exactly what it wants, but Bellamy mostly seems to have taken what she said about hickeys to heart and seems determined to make sure that if anyone else sees her shirtless in the next two weeks, they'll know he was here first. But it's not like he's neglecting her, either. As soon as the aftershocks of the orgasm have passed, his hand is back between her legs, his fingers sliding inside her, tantalizingly close to what she wants.
"You're not going to be able to enjoy yourself until you get knotted, huh?" he teases. "Is that what you want? Me to fill you up?"
"Yes," she gasps. "Please, Bellamy, I need you."
He slides back up to kiss her, surprisingly sweet. "Yeah, I've got you."
There's a kind of haze that comes with heat, a desperation that makes everything a little fuzzy around the edges. Clarke is aware of him finding the condom and sliding it on, but it's not until his dick is finally inside her that the world snaps into focus, her whole being concentrated on that point of contact.
"Fuck," she breathes, and he nips her neck, gentle, not enough to leave a mark.
"Good?"
"Yeah."
He pushes in faster than he did last night, the heat making her hot and wet and ready, and he barely pauses before he starts thrusting. She's done this with toys before and liked it, but it's different with a real person, someone else setting the pace, the knot organic and not mechanical, out of her control. And it's different with Bellamy, who's still kissing her all over, mouth roving from her lips to her neck to her shoulder, like he doesn't want to miss a single inch of her with his mouth.
Orgasms when she's in heat are kind of fluid, hard to distinguish, at least once she starts getting fucked. Maybe she has a bunch of smaller orgasms, maybe it's just one long, endless one, but it feels as if her whole body has turned into waves of pleasure, crashing against each other endlessly, at least until Bellamy bites her shoulder, hard, and knots her.
It's different from toys, different from feeling the knot outside her when she's not in heat. It's not better, exactly, the one huge orgasm instead of the thousand small ones, but it's intense in a way she's not used to, intense enough she loses herself, everything going bright and brilliant, her ears humming with static, her whole body bright and brilliant. Her thoughts fail and it's just warmth and pleasure and Bellamy. The only parts of her that feel real are the parts that he's touching.
She doesn't know how long it is before she comes back to herself, but by the time she does, Bellamy's repositioned them so she's resting on top of him, and his arms are around her. Last night, this was about when she fell asleep, but she's not tired now, and there's just her and Bellamy, linked together for at least half an hour.
"You back?" he asks, running his hand through her hair.
"Yeah. That was a lot."
"I've heard, yeah."
"Not for you?"
"Not in the same way. Don't worry, it was good for me," he teases. "Amazing. It's still amazing for me. But you're the one who wanted to try this out. I wanted to make sure it lived up to expectations."
"More than. What do you usually do when you're waiting for the knot to go away?" she asks, and he snorts.
"You're terrible at pillow talk."
"I'm just thinking how awkward this must have been at the stud club. Did you talk? Did you just sort of pretend you weren't stuck together?"
"Yeah, we got on our phones."
Clarke twists up so she can look him in the face. "I can't tell if you're joking."
"I'm not. But that's not what I do when I'm with people I actually like."
"Oh?"
He leans down to kiss her again and shifts his hips, thrusting up into her against her gently. "People I like get off more."
*
Clarke doesn't have a lot of time to think over the next two days. They fuck and make out and nap, taking occasional breaks to eat and watch TV and shower. It's the kind of sex bubble she hasn't really been in since college, and it's amazing even though she knows it's going to pop. This isn't her first time having sex with Bellamy, it's the only time, it's the exception and not the rule. The fact that it feels vaguely unreal is probably good. It's not the kind of thing she can get used to.
They order pizza for dinner on Sunday and eat it on the couch. Clarke takes her pill with the meal, which should have her work-appropriate for Tuesday, and when they're finished, Bellamy says, "I should get home."
"You can stay the night," she says. "Sex or no sex, it's late. You don't have to drive home."
"It's not that late and it's not that far." He gives her half a smile. "If I stay another night, I'm just going to get even more of your scent on me. We'll get back to normal faster if I leave now."
"I guess. Thanks," she adds, the word awkward and completely inadequate. "It was a great weekend."
"You don't have to thank me, I had fun too." For a second, she thinks he's going to kiss her goodbye, almost leans up into it, but he puts on his coat and leaves with a wave over his shoulder, and Clarke collapses onto her couch.
"Fuck."
*
She didn't tell anyone about the fucking Bellamy plan because she knew anyone she told would tell her not to. Bellamy was the only one who knew, and under normal circumstances, he'd be her first choice to talk to about this. But she can't really tell him she thinks she's kind of in love with him because, one, it's him and, two, he'd definitely tell her it's just lingering hormones. It's exactly what he was worried about, except that the last thing she wants to do is lose him.
She wants to keep him forever, just like she always has.
They text all week and go out for drinks as usual on Friday, and he smells way too good even though she's not in heat anymore, and all she wants to do is bury her face in his neck and breathe him in for the next twenty-four hours. Which probably is about 90% hormones, but it's not as if the hormones are unwelcome. Climbing into Bellamy's lap to cuddle with him has always been an appealing idea, now she just knows exactly how good it feels and how compatible they are, biologically speaking.
On Saturday, they hit up the art museum to see a new exhibit that Clarke's been wanting to check out, and she spends the whole time wanting to hold his hand. Not even for hormone reasons, she just likes him and his hands and being close to him.
On Sunday, she calls Raven.
"I fucked Bellamy."
"Cool," says Raven. "That took longer than I thought it would. So, how did you mess it up? Let me guess, it was supposed to be casual."
"Yeah."
"Drunk?"
"No." She closes her eyes. "I told him I'd never gotten knotted when I was in heat and asked if he'd do it."
"Jesus, Griffin. You don't fuck up halfway, huh?"
"Go big or go home, I guess."
"Hey, he's the one who said yes, you're both dumbasses."
"For the same reason?"
Raven snorts. "It's not like he ever told me, but yeah, I assume so. I always figured he was really into you. Gina thought so too, that's why she dumped him."
"How's she doing?" she asks. When they first met, she was kind of jealous of Gina in the way she was jealous of everyone Bellamy dated, but once they broke up and Raven and Gina got together, Clarke liked her a lot more.
"Great. We're both getting by without his knot, so if you feel like you can't, that's not a universal experience."
"I'm pretty sure if I tell him, he'll think that's it. Just hormones."
"Wouldn't you think that? If you were him."
"Maybe."
Raven just snorts. "And you were the one who asked him. You told him you wanted a one-time thing, of course if you tell him you changed your mind he's going to think he threw your hormones out of whack."
"But you don't think that."
"No, I think he probably did. But I also think you've been into him for years. Look, you were in heat and he's an alpha. Of course something happened to your hormones, that's how it works. But it's not like everyone's into every alpha. He was better in bed than Finn was, like, technically speaking? But he didn't smell as good to me. Hell, Gina's an omega, but I still love how she smells more than I like anyone else. You're in love with him and you're apparently crazy compatible. That's not a bad thing."
"Not when you put it like that."
"If you'd told me you were planning to do this, I would have told you not to. But I don't think this is fucked beyond repair. Just talk to him. Tell him what happened. Figure out how to make him believe it."
It wasn't really the problem she was anticipating, but it's probably a better problem to have than his not being into her. "How long have you been waiting for this call?" she asks, unable to keep the amusement out of her voice. It should maybe hurt her feelings that Raven was assuming she'd completely fail to just ask Bellamy out like a normal person, but it's not like Raven was wrong.
"I introduced the two of you, right? After the Finn thing?"
"Yeah."
"Since about a week after that."
Clarke smiles. "Well, you were really prepared. Great job."
"I never thought it was gonna go badly for you, if it helps. I thought you'd fuck it up at least once, but I'm pretty sure there's a happy ending."
Clarke smiles. "Thanks. I'm hoping."
*
She thinks about calling him up right after she and Raven hang up, but it feels a little too soon. It's not just hormones, but she thinks he won't buy it, a week out. If she asks him to come over, he'll probably take it the wrong way.
They get drinks with Lincoln and Octavia on Tuesday, and it feels like a double date, but in a familiar way. Most of their friends are paired off, so they spend a lot of time going out with couples, coupling up naturally themselves. Bellamy teases his sister and talks sports with Lincoln and smiles at Clarke just as much as he always does, and it feels totally normal. Like they never had sex at all. But it also feels like it would be so easy for them to go home together after, and that's not a new feeling either. Her least favorite part of every night out with Bellamy is saying goodbye to him.
On Friday, she gets to the bar first, and an alpha starts hitting on her.
He's not bad-looking, exactly, handsome in a kind of generic white guy way, but his scent is nothing special, and his smile does nothing for her.
"You can't smell the other alpha on me?" she asks, mostly out of curiosity. She doesn't know how long the scent of a claiming lingers for anyone else. One of her work friends asked if she was seeing someone new in that awkward way that suggested the question was scent-based, but that was it. "I'm taken."
"Not in the last week. If you were my omega, I wouldn't wait that long."
"Busy schedule," she says. She smells the second Bellamy comes in, which is new and still a little weird, but it's convenient right now. Way less awkward that it was in the museum. The hyper-awareness of him will wear off with time, but she doesn't really want that either. She likes knowing when he's around, where he is.
Even when it means knowing he's not coming over.
"I can take care of you better than he can."
"You sound kind of like a supervillain right now." She turns in the direction she knows Bellamy is and sees him lingering by the coat rack, apparently torn on interrupting. But one look at her is apparently enough to get the message across.
"I'm just--" the alpha starts, but Bellamy's at her back, and Clarke leans into him, letting his scent engulf her. She hates when alphas won't back off without another alpha stepping in, but at least she has another alpha handy.
"Hey," says Bellamy. "Sorry I'm late. Am I interrupting a good conversation?"
"Nope. Unwelcome opinions on our sex life."
The alpha doesn't bother responding, just vacates his barstool with his hands up, letting Bellamy take it instead. Clarke instantly misses the contact, but Bellamy's scowl is kind of awesome too.
"I couldn't tell if you were into it," he says, low.
"I'm here to hang out with you, of course I wasn't into it."
"I'd get it if you met someone you liked. We are at a bar."
"We don't have to be." He frowns at her, and she shrugs one shoulder. "I kind of like Friday drinks at my place better."
They've done drinks at her place exactly twice: first, when she asked him to fuck her, and second when he actually did. Judging from his expression, he knows that too.
But all he says is, "You couldn't have just said that before we came here?"
She'd been worried if she just asked, he'd say no. Before the alpha showed up, she'd been trying to figure out how to bring it up. "I was giving it one last shot, and then that douchebag started hitting on me."
"Fair enough."
They take his car to her place as usual, since she always walks to the bar, and he waits until they're upstairs to say, "We fucked it up, right?"
Clarke cocks her head at him. "What, exactly?"
"This is where you tell me the sex made it weird."
"It's not. That's not what I wanted to tell you."
"No?"
"I was going to ask Lincoln to knot me because I knew I had a crush on you," she says. "That's why I wanted to ask him and not you. If I asked you, I didn't think I could keep it casual."
"But you did ask me."
"Yeah. I told myself I was over you. It's been two years, and you're my best friend. I didn't want to be in love with you."
"Yeah, that sounds like it would be awkward."
His face is giving nothing away, but Clarke feels herself starting to grin anyway. "You can't actually just talk yourself out of that, you know. That's not how feelings work."
"It is how hormones work," he says. "It's easy to get--"
"It's not, though. Hormones and feelings are totally different. Or maybe they're linked, I don't know. But I haven't just spend the last two weeks thinking about fucking you again."
"Yeah? That makes one of us."
"You weren't just thinking about fucking me either," she says, so sure.
"No," he says, just a breath. He looks so tired.
"I had a great time," she says. "But that's kind of a bonus. You're my best friend and I basically want to marry you, so I'm glad that it was also the best sex I've ever had. If it had been bad sex, I would have been disappointed. But I'd still want to marry you."
"You didn't want that before we had sex," he points out. "It's all pheromones and--"
Clarke tugs him down for a kiss. It's not exactly what she's been missing--he's too stiff and not quite kissing back--but the relief of being close again is instantaneous.
"What would convince you, exactly?" she asks.
He thinks about it for a second, and then his shoulders slump and he offers a wry smile. "No idea. Sorry."
"But you're into me."
"Yeah," he admits, like it's breaking his heart. "Fuck, I should have said no, I know I should have, but I couldn't."
"Sorry." She slides her hand into his hair, rubbing his scalp. "What's wrong with pheromones, exactly?"
He's leaning into her touch, reminding her so much of Lyra getting her ears scratched that she almost laughs. "What?"
"You've always smelled good to me. Ever since I met you. That's not new. I assume part of why you're attracted to me is that I smell amazing to you."
"Yeah."
"That wouldn't make me want to go to museums with you and argue about what to watch on Netflix and go grocery shopping together so I'd actually have stuff in my fridge. All that does is make me want to fuck you again, but after I fuck you, I want you to sleep over and have coffee in my kitchen while you do the crossword. All the pheromones are doing are motivating me to admit it, because I really don't want another alpha to knot me. I just want you."
"Pheromones wear off."
"No, they don't." She taps the side of his head with her first, gentle. "Not if we keep having sex."
"That's not as comforting as you think. I go away for a month and you realize that you don't actually like me, you've just been in a sex haze."
"Bellamy."
"I know." He leans back against the couch, eyes sliding shut. "I've been in love with you for so long," he admits. "And I was sure I didn't have a chance."
"Why?" she asks. She never got to thinking she had no chance with him, not really. There was always a part of her that thought it might happen.
"I didn't think you liked alpha guys. You haven't dated one since Finn, I thought he ruined all of us for you."
She has to laugh. "Every time I thought about asking you out, it felt like you were going out with someone new. At some point, I gave up, and then you stopped dating." She nuzzles his neck. "Do you want to not see me for a month or something? Would that make you feel better?"
He startles like he's been shocked. "What? Why?"
"So the pheromones can wear off. Or you can just call Raven and she can give you the speech she had locked and loaded for when this happened."
"What specifically?"
"Me admitting I'm into you. It's not news, Bellamy. No one's going to hear we had sex and think that's the only reason we're together. They're going to be glad we finally figured it out."
"Miller would buy a cake."
She slides her hand under his shirt, and he rests his cheek on her hair. "If you'd ever asked me out, I would have said yes. Like, at any point in the entire time we've known each other."
"Yeah, I'm kicking myself." His breath comes out in a shudder. "I know what alphas can do. How they can fuck with people's heads. I don't ever want to do that to you."
"Okay, well, I want you to fuck me into the mattress at least once a week for the rest of our lives, and probably way more often than that." He chokes, and she grins. "I get it. You're worried. You've dated people before, I assume they were into your scent and your whole alpha thing, you got over it. Do you want me to go out and fuck some other alpha so I'm sure you're my favorite."
He growls and tugs her closer. "No."
"Yeah. I don't want that either. So you should probably just get over yourself and tell me you're going to be my boyfriend."
"You're pretty pushy for an omega."
"You like me anyway."
"I do." He squeezes her shoulder. "If you tell me you want to be my girlfriend one more time, I'm going to believe you."
"I want to be your girlfriend."
"Cool. Are we watching a movie?"
Clarke snuggles in. "That sounds good."
*
"So, what happened?" Octavia asks, positively gleeful at dinner on Wednesday. "Did Bell actually make a move? Did you make a move? I was starting to worry he was just going to pine away forever."
"Yeah, that was my plan," says Bellamy. Clarke's not sure what conversations he had with other people after he talked to her, but he seems to have accepted that she really wants to date him and settled into being stupidly happy about it.
"I don't think you actually want to hear how we got together," says Clarke. "But I promise it was needlessly complicated and we were both idiots."
"Duh," says Octavia. "You were already both idiots. I knew that."
"You helped," Clarke offers. "Kind of."
"Yeah? How?"
"I got your wedding invitation and had a weird crisis."
"That's what I always wanted my wedding to do," says Octavia, with obvious pride. "Cause all sorts of people all sorts of crises. That's why I invited all my exes."
"I can't believe how wrong I raised you," says Bellamy, and she sticks her tongue out.
"Whatever, my wedding got you a girlfriend. I'm amazing and you owe me."
On the one hand, what credit there is really does go to Lincoln, who's staying quiet and looking happy for them, as Clarke expected. On the other hand, Bellamy's happy, Octavia's not pressing for details about how they got together, and Clarke's finally, finally dating her best friend. She can let this one go. "Definitely. And we appreciate it."
Lincoln does fall into step with her on their way out. "Between you and me, how messy was it?" he asks, low.
"Incredibly. We tried having casual sex."
"I can't imagine that going well."
Clarke grins. "The sex went well. But the casual part was a disaster."
"So keeping the sex and losing the casual. Seems like everything worked out."
"So far, yeah." She bumps her shoulder against his. "I think we've got it"