Chapter Text
Okay, so Lexa was attracted to Clarke. Not a big deal. It wasn't part of the plan, but it was only natural, right? How could she not be attracted to her? Clarke was an attractive woman. An attractive woman pretending to be attracted to Lexa, who was... well, she was lonely. Just not used to the attention. Again, no big deal.
That's what she kept telling herself, at least.
"So you kissed her?" Anya's voice floated over from her laptop, propped up on the dresser.
"Well what else was I supposed to do, An?" Lexa huffed as she milled around her room looking for something green to wear. Why was everything she owned black?
"Also..."
"Also was?"
"Also, wie war es?" Anya prodded. Not letting her get away easy.
Lexa should have seen this coming, really. Anya always digs. Especially when she senses there's more, and Lexa was terrible at hiding things from her. She never should have told her in the first place.
"Weiß nicht," she shrugged, turning away from her computer. Her cheeks burned as she replayed the kiss with Clarke in her head. She was ashamed to say it wasn't the first time - or even the 40th time - she'd replayed it in the last two days.
While it was brief, the memory of Clarke's lips was still fresh enough to make her stomach hot and find her at random times throughout the day. She berated her own lack of self-control. It was almost as if she'd never kissed anyone before. Fucking pathetic.
"It was okay, I guess," she mumbled.
Finally catching a glimpse of green at the bottom of her third drawer, Lexa pulled on it, only to discover a particularly hideous green blouse. She had no idea where it had come from, but with the ruffles along the front, she knew she hadn't bought it for herself.
Anya let out a low whistle. "Yikes. Is that what you're wearing out tonight?"
Lexa rolled her eyes and threw the offending garment onto the bed with a huff. "Jesus Christ. Why do I not own anything green that isn't fucking hässlich?"
"Why are you freaking out right now? Everyone looks stupid on St. Patty's Day, you won't be the only one."
"I'm not freaking out, I just-" Lexa took a deep breath, schooling her emotions. She plopped down on her bed and groaned. This was going to be a long night.
"Don't sweat it Lex, it's just a stupid shirt," Anya reasoned. "Just wear black, who gives a shit?"
Lexa let out a sigh, rubbing her eyes. It wasn't really about the shirt (although it was hideous), she just had a lot going on inside her head. That was why she’d called Anya in the first place. The silence of the empty apartment was far too accommodating for her anxiety as she was getting ready.
"Tonight just has a lot riding on it, okay?"
And despite everything riding on it, Lexa also just hated clubbing. The lights, the loud music, the huge crowds, the sweat. It was all terrible.
With that being said, Lexa was torn between the comfort of having Clarke with her at the club and the anxiety of having to be at the club with Clarke. Drinking with her, dancing with her, touching her. Just. Too much right now.
Lexa was ashamed to admit that she’d even gone to lengths trying to avoid Clarke all together over the last two days. They hadn’t even had a chance to go over a game plan for tonight. In fact, in lieu of an engagement story, the best they’d been able to come up with over breakfast was: ‘just be vague, because the ring is all anyone gives a shit about anyway.’ Which is why Clarke had volunteered to stop by Macy’s on her way home to pick up some flashy, fake piece of junk to help overshadow the few remaining holes in their story.
Lexa felt bad for avoiding her, but she just couldn't afford herself the opportunity to do something stupid, like bring up the kiss. Or think about the kiss. Or do the kiss. Jesus.
"Look, if you're worried about whether what's-her-face is going to buy your whole lovesick puppy act, you're seriously getting worked up over nothing,” Anya assured. “From the way you talk about this girl, it seems all you two do is hang out and drool over each other. It's fucking gross. Makes me think there might even be some real-life fuzzy feelings going on in there."
Lexa's ears burned at the implication. Did she really talk about Clarke that much? She was suddenly glad for the low quality camera on her computer as the shame stained her cheeks.
"Don't be ridiculous, Anya," Lexa shook her head. "Me and Clarke are just friends." Well.
It was hard to define something that changed labels depending on the situation. She also wasn't quite sure what to call this feeling that had begun to pop up around Clarke, but it definitely wasn't fuzzy. Though she couldn't think of an accurate word that didn't sound gross. Hot? No...Throbby? No. Vibrating? Definitely not.
The closest she could get was kind of like an intense orange and yellow mixed with deep purple. Just sitting in the pit of her stomach. Likely borne from the four year sex drought she'd managed to fall into before subjecting herself to faking a sexual relationship with an attractive blonde.
Regardless, all she knew was that she couldn't let this new, unnamed feeling towards Clarke get in the way of their friendship. Or the plan. With the gears finally turning and things actually starting to work out, Lexa couldn't take the possibility of it all failing now. Especially over something as asinine as feelings.
Her only plan of action for the time being was to continue to try and protect herself from falling victim to this. To try to distance herself from getting too 'intimate' with Clarke - for lack of a better word - until she could get this thing under control. That gave her – she checked her watch - 26 minutes to get a hold of herself before they had to meet up with Raven and Octavia at the club.
Shit.
"Right," Anya drolled. Patronizing as usual. "Well I guess I'll just leave you to your non-existent lady boner, then. Let me know how it goes."
Barely able to muster a grunt in response, Lexa flipped off the computer as the call dropped.
As if out of spite, her phone buzzed next to her with a picture message from none other than Clarke herself.
Clarke: On my way home now
Clarke: A LOT of pregaming on the 4. See you soon gf <#
Clarke: Img_140317
It was a picture of Clarke on the subway, smiling brightly and squished amid a sea of green party goers. It looked loud.
Lexa also couldn't help but notice the form fitting green dress Clarke had on under her white blazer and how good it looked on her. She had to swallow around that feeling, which now crept up her throat, hot and thick like molasses, as she typed her response.
Throwing her phone back on the bed, Lexa ran her fingers through her hair and let out a sigh. She picked up the green blouse and grimaced at it.
"Absolut scheußlich" She muttered before throwing it in the trash. Black it is.
This was going to be a long night.
-
"Well aren't you two a sight for sore eyes," Raven greeted as Lexa and Clarke approached the entrance to the club, hands clasped and slightly out of breath.
"Sorry we're late, Midtown was a disaster," Clarke said, drawing Raven into a quick hug. "Where's O?"
"She got antsy and ran inside to scope the place out," Raven said, pulling her phone from her pocket. "I'll let her know you guys are here."
Clarke let out a shiver as she took in the outside of the club: a newer, crack-in-the-wall place in SoHo called 'The Arc'. From the outside it didn't look like much, but Raven and Octavia had insisted the DJ and the drink specials looked amazing, so she could hardly argue when they'd suggested it.
It also didn’t hurt that this place meant lots of alcohol and music that was too loud to talk over. Clarke would have agreed to pretty much anything that reduced the amount of talking done tonight. Lying to strangers and government officials was one thing, but lying to Octavia? Lying to her best friend of twenty years? It not only scared the shit out of her, but it just felt wrong. The less talking they had to do tonight, the better.
"You okay, Commander? I know it's St. Patty's Day weekend, but you're looking a little green in the face," Raven teased. "Oh shit, O's calling. Hold on."
When Clarke's gaze fell to Lexa, she noticed those steely green eyes fluttering nervously over to the masses of people making their way into the club. Felt the tell-tale tapping of those long fingers across her knuckles. Oh.
"Hey, you okay?" Clarke squeezed her hand gently, speaking low enough so that only Lexa could hear.
When Lexa's eyes drifted back to her from the crowd, she thought she saw them soften a bit. Though the edges were still cloudy with something nervous. Uncertain. Lexa just nodded slightly in response. It was almost imperceptible, but Clarke had learned to read Lexa's subtle gestures by now. Learned that she was almost too precise sometimes.
"We don't have to go in if you're not comfortable, Lex," she said, reaching over to still Lexa's fingers with her free hand, soothing them with her thumb.
Lexa glanced down at their joined hands and let out a long breath, shaking her head. "No, I'm okay."
Though it sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than anyone else.
Clarke had been carefully reading Lexa's building anxiety over the last two days and wasn't quite sure what to do with it. Lexa had been quiet. Stiff. Like a bow pulled too taut. She seemed jumpy at Clarke's touch and, though she felt silly for thinking it, she even seemed to have been avoiding Clarke all together. Leaving for work early, working through lunch, and coming home late. She even kept her hands in her pockets the entire way to the club, avoiding taking Clarke's hand until they were right across the street.
Clarke wasn't clingy or anything, but of all times for Lexa to get weird about touching her, this was quite possibly the worst. It was going to be hard enough to convince Octavia they were a couple without the additional pressure of Lexa’s sudden aversion to any and all physical contact.
Clarke just needed to get her to relax. Bring her head back down from wherever it was hiding.
"You know," she started, tentatively leaning into Lexa's shoulder, "I'm actually kind of nervous about tonight."
Lexa's eyes rose up to hers, somewhat surprised but also relieved.
"I am, too," she confessed. "I just want to get this over with."
“I hear that,” Clarke agreed, pointedly taking a step closer. “Also, is it just me, or is it freezing out here?"
She let out another shiver and inched just slightly closer, enjoying the blush that rose in Lexa's cheeks as she invaded her personal space. Lexa gave her a look like she knew she was egging her on, which she was, but Clarke just smiled innocently up at her.
"If only there was some way, or someone to help keep me warm out here,” she sighed.
Lexa rolled her eyes, though the corners of her mouth betrayed her, despite her best efforts.
"I told you, you should have brought a coat," she muttered as she wrapped her arms around Clarke's neck, bringing her closer into her body.
Clarke hummed into her chest, delighted. "Who needs a coat, when they’re fake engaged to such a hot piece of ass?"
She was happy to feel Lexa's muscles relax slightly, hear her chuckle into her hair.
"I guess you do have a point."
Clarke smiled as she buried herself further into the warm embrace.
They were brought from their bubble by a barfing noise.
"You guys are disgusting," Raven grimaced. "Save it for O, she's going to eat that shit up. Let's go."
-
The inside of the club was dark. Crowded. Kind of damp. Lexa felt like she was inside an ant hill. She clung to Clarke's hand like a life line as the three of them weaved their way through the slowly building crowd.
"She's got to be around here somewhere," Raven muttered as she turned a corner, leading them into a large, open room with a stage on the far wall and a number of free standing bars and booth tables along the others. It had a massive dance floor right in the middle.
"Wow, this is actually pretty nice," Clarke commented as she took in the expanse of the room.
Lexa was relieved to note that they had arrived early enough that the DJ had not taken the stage yet. She could at least get acclimatized to her surroundings before the lights went out and everything got too loud. Too out of hand. She looked around at the clusters of people milling about the room. Some talking, some dancing to the shitty warm-up playlist that hummed over the speakers, all of them drinking.
She realized she couldn't wait to get a drink in her hand.
Suddenly there was a flash of green sequins and "What's up, bitches!" was all Lexa heard before a short brunette launched herself at Clarke.
Recovering quickly, Clarke reciprocated the hug, squealing.
"O! Oh my god, I've missed you so much."
The two women pulled apart, beaming. This must have been Octavia. She was certainly shorter than Lexa had imagined. Prettier, too.
"I mean it's been long enough, you dingus. You better have missed me," Octavia teased, suddenly turning to Lexa. "And you must be the fiancé I've never met before!"
"Oh, right. Sorry," Clarke grabbed Lexa's hand and gestured between the two women. "Lexa, this is Octavia Blake, if you couldn't tell; Octavia, this is my fiancé, Lexa Woods."
"It's so nice to finally meet you," Lexa held out her hand to shake, but it was swatted away as Octavia pulled her into a hug.
"Nah, you're family now. We hug each other here," Octavia said as she gave Lexa a firm squeeze.
This was going well so far.
"But just to let you know," Octavia said in a low voice as she pulled away, so only Lexa could hear, "if you ever hurt my friend, I will hunt you down and kill you."
Oh. Well, then.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now that we got our kumbaya-ya's out, can someone please get a drink in my hand? It's been too long since I've gotten irresponsibly drunk," Raven said, slinging her arm over O's shoulders.
Octavia's eyes lit up as she threw her arms in the air. "Shots!"
Prompting Clarke, Raven, and a number of nearby party goers to all respond with a resounding chorus of "Shots!" as if it were a battle cry.
Lexa looked around, suddenly overwhelmed by the chaos. She felt like she was on another planet.
"Come on, Commander. Let's get you drunk," Clarke winked, grabbing her by the hand and leading her further into the club.
Lexa could do nothing but follow. This was going to be a long night.
-
"It's called 'Murphy's Law'," Raven said as she passed double shot glasses around to each woman, grinning. "The bartender said this is the quickest way to get shitfaced."
The light in Raven’s eyes was enough to tell Clarke she was probably going to regret this in the morning.
Taking a whiff of the green liquid, she coughed and blinked in surprise as it stung her nose. "Holy shit, Ray. What's in this?"
Lexa just eyed her glass suspiciously, keeping it at a safe distance.
"Nothing but green food dye and regrets, my dear Clarke," Raven smirked, holding her flute up in cheers. "Salud!"
They all clinked their glasses together and threw the shots back. Raven and Lexa both recovered quite quickly, the latter merely smacking her lips together, while Octavia and Clarke chased theirs down with a mix of coughs and shudders.
"Woo!" Octavia whooped after catching her breath. "That's the good shit. Let's get another round!"
Two rounds later, the girls decided to slow down and find a booth along the wall to chat before the DJ came on and drowned out all possibility of conversation. Drinks in hand, they settled down around the dimly lit table, Clarke and Lexa on one side and Raven and Octavia on the other.
"So Lexa," Octavia began, taking a sip from her Long Island iced tea. "How did you meet Clarke?"
This was the part Clarke had been dreading the most. The interrogation. Raven's advice of 'just act like you're fucking' could really only take them so far.
"We actually met through Raven," Lexa recounted coolly, the alcohol in her system seeming to have offered her reprieve from her nerves. "I found her ad on Craigslist while looking for a roommate after I accepted my position at NYU and, luckily for me, Clarke ended up being part of the package."
"Damn right," Clarke winked, leaning over to nudge her gently with her shoulder. “It took a while, but she eventually warmed up to me.”
Octavia hummed, eyes passing over the two of them as she stirred her drink slowly. “So you two have known each other for…”
“About two and a half years,” Lexa supplied. “Though, as Clarke said, we were not very close for a while.”
Clarke felt bare under Octavia’s scrutinizing gaze.
"It's funny you two have known each other that long because I mean, now that I've thoroughly Facebook-stalked you both, I know you all went to Cancun together last year, but aside from that, I never would've even guessed that you two have been in the same room," she calmly took another sip from her drink. "Until recently, of course."
"Well, Lexa's not huge on social media, so..." Clarke offered lamely, hoping Octavia would just drop it and alter her line of questioning.
"I get that, but it's just weird that you didn't even tell me,” her voice was incredulous, almost venomous, though tinged with a genuine hurt that made Clarke’s chest ache. “I mean, we've been best friends since birth and yet you don't even bother to tell me you're dating some hot doctor? Come on, Clarke."
Even Raven was starting to shift uncomfortably in her chair. She and Clarke exchanged a panicked glance across the table. She knew this was a bad idea.
"It's actually my fault, Octavia," Lexa jumped in, lightly squeezing Clarke's thigh under the table. "Clarke and I didn't really get serious until after Mexico, and when I went to go work in Germany right after we came back, everything became too much for me."
Octavia's attention had turned to Lexa. There were traces of skepticism on her face, but she seemed to be intent on letting her continue.
"Raven didn't even know for a while. I asked Clarke not to tell anyone, because I honestly didn't know what we were or if we would make it until I got back. I thought bringing more people into the equation would just over complicate things, and I wasn't willing to risk it," she looked to Octavia with a shrug. "I'm sorry that you feel blindsided by this, but don't blame Clarke. It was selfish of me to ask her to keep it from everyone, especially from you. So if you're going to be angry with anyone, please be angry with me."
Octavia seemed to be weighing her words carefully, giving her drink another stir. "So where’s the ring?”
Three sets of eyes shot to Clarke’s bare ring finger at once.
Shit.
It had been Clarke’s job to pick up a fake ring on her way home, but she had completely forgotten in her rush to be on time. Raven took a long swig from her beer and grimaced.
This was it. They were fucked. She should have known this was going to happen. How could she have been so-
“There is no ring,” Lexa piped up, suddenly.
Clarke looked over at her. Stunned. Especially to find she appeared surprisingly calm. The twitching of her fingers as they braided some straw wrappers together was the only indication of her unease.
Octavia shot Lexa an incredulous look. “No ring?”
“Nope,” she shook her head, glancing over to Clarke. “Right babe? You proposed to me with, what, a beer bottle label?”
Babe? Clarke was momentarily taken aback by the nickname, but also impressed by Lexa’s quick thinking.
Her memory of that night may have been blurred by alcohol, but fashioning Lexa a makeshift ring out of label paper and getting down on one knee were certainly amongst the bits and pieces she’d been able to hold onto.
“That’s right,” she smiled, nodding. Thank god for Lexa’s fucking memory.
“Whoa, whoa, hold up,” Octavia gaped between them. “Clarke proposed?”
“She sure did,” Raven smirked, seeming to have recovered enough from her momentary panic to play along. “And she was super drunk when she did it, too.”
“What the fuck. You were there?” Octavia turned to Raven, scandalized.
“Well, it’s actually a funny story,” Lexa started, now smiling fully, “Clarke, Raven, and I were all just hanging out, drinking, when - I actually don’t even remember what it was we were talking about, but right in the middle of our conversation, I turn to find Clarke down on one knee with this little paper ring, asking me to marry her.”
Octavia turned to gape at Clarke, her eyes wide, but alight with amusement.
“It’s true,” she shrugged. “I really didn’t even have a plan.”
“I honestly thought she was joking,” Lexa laughed, “but the next day, we sat down and had a serious talk about it, and-” she looked over at Clarke and smiled, full and bright, “and I still don’t know why she did it, but I’m so happy she did.”
Clarke couldn’t help the smile that broke out on her face. Her chest squirmed as she could see the barest hint of a blush gracing Lexa’s cheeks in the dim light and she just. This girl. She was so endeared by her, she didn’t even have to act.
“It was definitely one of Drunk Clarke’s brighter moments, I think,” she grinned, and in a show of affection, leaned in to press a gentle kiss to Lexa’s cheek.
“Awe Clarkey!” Octavia cooed, nudging Raven with her shoulder.
Well, at least she seems to have bought it.
Clarke let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and shot Lexa a grateful look out of the corner of her eye. She’d saved their asses with her quick thinking, and the best part was: they didn’t even have to lie. Not technically, anyway.
"Yeah, yeah, so cute. Until you live with it. Then it's just gross,” Raven waved her off with a scoff before downing the rest of her Guinness and slamming her glass down onto the table. “Now, I think we need to get at least two more rounds of Murphy’s Law before any of you gringas are ready for the dance floor. Vamos!”
Luckily, that was enough to win Octavia’s attention as she scooted out of the booth, squealing, leading the way to the bar.
“I guess that’s our cue,” Lexa nodded as she made to follow the other two.
“I guess so,” Clarke chuckled, sliding out of the booth behind her. “Quick thinking back there, by the way. Sorry I choked on you.”
Lexa merely shrugged, allowing Clarke to walk ahead of her as they began squeezing through the crowd where Octavia and Raven disappeared. Clarke tried to ignore the heat of Lexa’s body on her back as she followed closely behind her.
"Do you think she'll notice if I just get water?" Lexa muttered into the shell of her ear.
"I don't know, how good are your dance moves?" Clarke smirked, reaching behind her to slide her hand into Lexa’s.
Lexa looked down at their hands and considered it for a moment before nodding. "I guess a few more rounds can’t hurt."
By the time they got to the bar, the line was already at least five people deep. After a few minutes of small talk and Raven’s grumbling about shit service, Clarke was voted to fight her way to the bar to get everyone’s drinks.
“I’ll come with you,” Lexa volunteered, making to follow Clarke through the crowd.
“Don’t worry about it, Lex, I was a waitress all through college,” Clarke waived her off. “A shitty one, but I can definitely handle a few drinks.”
“I’m sure you can, but I’d still like to help you anyway,” Lexa insisted, keeping a firm hold on her hand.
“Okay,” Clarke shrugged, ignoring Raven’s jeers of ‘whipped’, followed by Octavia’s giggles. She certainly wasn’t going to argue with an extra set of hands. The crowd did look pretty rowdy.
“I also really don’t want to get stuck playing 20 questions with O by myself. She fucking scares me,” Lexa muttered as they walked away.
“Oh, I see, so you don’t actually care about helping me,” Clarke teased, shaking her head. “Chivalry really is dead.”
Lexa gasped, feigning offense.
“Clarke, you wound me,” she said indignantly. “I’ll have you know that I am known throughout the land for my chivalry.”
“Oh, are you now?” Clarke quipped, unable to keep a straight face as she glanced over her shoulder at Lexa’s pout. Damn, she was cute.
“I am,” she insisted. “Also for my irresistible charm and good looks.”
“And your modesty.”
“Of course,” she nodded. “I’ll charm your damn pants off.”
“Well lucky me, then.”
“Damn right.”
About an hour and a few too many shots later, the group found themselves just the right amount of drunk and getting ready to head out onto the dance floor.
Although the night got off to a bit of a rocky start, once the DJ took stage and the music became too loud to talk over, Octavia had been forced to drop her interrogation in favor of more drinking and Clarke found she was actually having a lot of fun.
“Oh my god. This is my jam!” Octavia slurred as the DJ began fading into the next lame club remix of some other popular song. “I’m going to go pee before we start dancing. Let’s go, Ray.”
Raven looked up at the sound of her name, eyes slightly out of focus. ”Who, me Ray?” she asked, gesturing to herself with a pointed finger.
“Yeah, you Ray,” O chuckled. “We’re on the buddy system. They’re default buddies.” She nodded her head at Lexa and Clarke.
“Oh, okay. I guess I’m going pee. Be right back you guys,” Raven called over her shoulder as she began following Octavia to the bathroom. “Don’t’ do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Clarke shook her head and turned to Lexa, who was just bobbing her head to the music, clearly starting to feel the effects of the alcohol in her system. Clarke, however, felt good. Just buzzed.
“How you doing, Woods? You okay?”
“I’m good, Clarke. I’m good,” she nodded, leaning in with a lopsided smirk. “Don’t worry, I’m not drunk. I’m German. It takes a lot more than this to get me drunk.”
Clarke giggled as the alcohol on Lexa’s breath stung her nose. “Well you certainly seem more relaxed than before.”
Lexa hummed, downing the rest of her gin and tonic in one swig. “I can be fun when I want to.”
“I bet,” Clarke mused, following suit and tossing back the rest of her Bay Breeze, smacking her lips together.
She turned back from placing her empty glass on the bar, to find Lexa giving her a strange, regarding look.
“What?” she asked, the suddenly serious look in Lexa’s eyes making her feel squirmy.
Lexa looked like she was debating with herself, whether or not to divulge. Chewing on her thought for a moment before a small smile appeared in the corners of her mouth.
"You just look really beautiful tonight, Clarke,” she said, her sincerity making Clarke blush.
Rico fucking Suave.
"You do, too, Lex,” she smiled. And in a bold move, took advantage of their proximity and smoothed her hands over Lexa’s silky, black button down shirt, taking a step closer. "I love the way this shirt looks on you."
And she meant it. While Lexa wasn't wearing any green, despite Clarke’s insistence, the black-on-black ensemble seemed to accentuate all the right parts of her lean figure. She was always surprised by how good Lexa could make funeral clothes look.
Then again, when you look like Lexa, you could make just about anything look good.
Lexa seemed conflicted for a moment, her cool demeanor faltering as she stiffly held her arms by her side before she tentatively placed her hands on Clarke's waist.
“You can touch me, you know. I don’t have cooties,” Clarke teased. “Also, we’re supposed to be engaged, remember?”
Lexa rolled her eyes and placed her hands more firmly on Clarke’s waist.
“Better?”
Clarke hummed and scooched herself closer, circling her arms loosely around Lexa’s neck. It was all for show, of course. Just acting the part.
It wasn’t hard to act attracted to Lexa; Lexa was an attractive woman. An incredibly attractive woman.
Who was very close to her right now. And smelled amazing.
Maybe she was a little drunk. She should probably stop drinking for the night.
When Lexa’s gaze dropped to her lips, Clarke’s skin buzzed with anticipation.
Should she kiss her? Was that something they did now? She didn’t know. She also didn’t want to make Lexa uncomfortable.
It wasn’t even like anyone was really watching, so there was no need to kiss her, right? But still. Artistic integrity and all that.
Without thinking too hard about it, Clarke leaned her head in and placed a gentle, searing kiss dangerously close to the corner of Lexa’s mouth. A compromise. Lingering there for just a moment longer than was probably necessary.
Her heart pounded in her ears as she pulled away.
She should definitely stop drinking for the night.
“Are we interrupting?” Octavia’s teasing voice came from behind them.
Lexa snapped away from Clarke as she turned to face them.
“Hi. Hey guys, sorry, we uh-we were just-” she was a sputtering mess.
“Jesus, calm down, Lexa. I was just kidding,” Octavia laughed. “You look like you just got caught with your hand in the cookie jar.”
Clarke’s whole face burned. She knew it was all part of the act, they wanted to be seen, but she still couldn’t bring herself to meet Raven’s shit eating smirk.
It took her a moment to collect herself before she slipped back into character, tugging Lexa closer to her by her belt loop and wrapping her arm around her waist.
“Sorry, it’s hard to keep my hands to myself around this one,” she winked, patting Lexa’s ass. “Ready to dance, babe?”
Lexa’s eyes were wide. Whether with terror or amusement, Clarke couldn’t tell. Maybe a little bit of both.
“Sure thing, babe,” Lexa choked through a forced smile, throwing her arm over Clarke’s shoulder.
Not needing to be told twice, Octavia turned to lead them to the dance floor.
“Well then let’s go, bitches!”
-
Lexa wasn’t quite sure what a ‘Murphy’s Law’ was, but whatever it was, it made her hyper aware of every atom in her body. Mostly because they all refused to stop buzzing. She didn’t know whether it was from the music, or the dancing, or the throngs of people moving around her, but it made her feel unsteady. Bolder somehow, too. A dangerous mix, she was finding.
It also seemed to make Clarke flirty. Touchy. Well, touchier. Which was not helping the buzzing.
It wasn’t that Lexa had anticipated not having to touch Clarke at all; in fact, she knew that the affectionate touches and small intimacies were all a part of their brilliant ‘fake it ‘till you make it’ plan, and that tonight was entirely doing just that, but still. She was finding that having this new flirty, touchy Clarke (who looked an awful lot like regular Clarke) acting so, well, flirty and touchy, and leaving confusing lingering kisses on the corner of her drunken, burning lips was leaving Lexa alarmingly disarmed. Slowly breaking down the barriers she had put in place over the last two days. Making her do stupid things like blush at every small glance and telling beautiful girls how beautiful they were without her brain’s permission. And the worst part was: Lexa was alarmingly unfazed by it.
A sober Lexa would look at the current situation and be somewhat concerned. She went in tonight with some semblance of a game plan, but somewhere amid the drinking, and the dancing, and the more drinking, she seemed to have lost herself. Lost her boundaries. And found herself taken over by a slightly-less-sober, buzzing Lexa with little concern for their game plan and who, quite frankly, had killer dance moves.
At least, she’d like to think so.
If you had told Lexa three weeks ago that tonight, she would be dancing in a club, sweaty, surrounded by strangers and actually enjoying herself, not begging for death, she would have laughed in your face. Lexa didn’t do clubs. And yet, here she was: throwing herself into songs she’d never heard, surrounded by people she’d never met, emboldened simply by the mixture of blonde hair and the buzzing of her drunken atoms.
Again, alarmingly disarmed.
“What is this song? I love this song,” Lexa shouted as she moved with abandon in the middle of the crowded dance floor, the music thrumming in her chest.
Clarke, Raven, and Octavia were all dancing in close proximity to her, but at the moment were too far away to hear her over the music, so instead of trying to get their attention again, Lexa just threw herself further into the beat, closing her eyes and losing herself in sound.
“You having fun?” A voice close to her ear startled her out of her trance.
She turned to find a girl, maybe a few years younger than her, dancing very close to her with a playful glint in her eyes. She was very pretty. Bright, brown eyes, long, auburn hair falling carelessly over her shoulders, a tight, short, green dress accentuating her long legs and nice figure. Lexa didn’t have to be gay to know she was attractive.
“I’m Danielle,” she smirked, leaning in to talk in Lexa’s ear. “You got a name?”
“Lexa,” she said, offering the girl her hand to shake as they both kept dancing.
Danielle took her hand and held it loosely as she danced in closer. “Alexa?”
“No, just Lexa,” she corrected her. “There’s no A.”
“That’s pretty, I like it.”
“Thank you.”
She wasn’t sure where this was going, but she really wasn’t interested in small talk. Especially not when she’d have to scream the whole time to be heard.
“You’re pretty, too,” Danielle said, moving her hand to the inside of Lexa’s upper arm and dancing just a hair closer. Oh. Lexa’s eyes widened as the girl invaded her space. This was becoming too much. Her chest lurched uncomfortably at the intrusion, but Danielle didn’t seem to notice. “Do you have a last name, too? Or are you going to make me guess?”
“You know, I should, uh- I should go find my friends,” Lexa said, trying to put a bit of distance between the two of them, but Danielle’s hand on her arm kept them close.
“Wouldn’t you rather dance with me?” she purred, sliding her hand up Lexa’s arm to her shoulder.
Before Lexa even had a chance to respond, a flash of blonde hair obscured her vision as she was suddenly pulled into a hard kiss.
Danielle let out a noise of surprise at being pushed out of the way.
Barely able to respond before it was over, Lexa opened her eyes to see a familiar blue looking back up at her, sharpened by a steely kind of determination.
“Clarke?”
“Hey baby,” she cooed, giving Lexa a pointed look before taking her hands and wrapping them around her waist as she turned around to give Danielle an appraising glare. “Who’s your friend?”
Unspeakably confused and thankful for Clarke’s intervention, Lexa relaxed into her hold and played along, making a valiant effort to ignore the lingering tingle on her lips.
“Clarke, this is Danielle. She was just introducing herself to me,” Lexa explained, gesturing to the other woman. “Danielle, this is Clarke.”
“Her fiancé,” Clarke supplied pointedly, the tone of her voice starkly contradicting her fake smile.
The look of shock that had taken residence on Danielle’s face morphed into one of disappointed realization.
“Of course,” she huffed, nodding. “Well it was nice to meet you Lexa, Clarke,” she offered Clarke a resentful glare as she turned, stalking away into the crowd.
"That's right, bitch. Watch yourself," Clarke murmured, turning back around in Lexa's arms to face her as she continued dancing. Clarke looped her arms around her neck as if to further prove her point.
"Getting a little possessive there, Griffin?" Lexa smirked down at her, their faces mere inches apart, despite their height difference.
Clarke rolled her eyes, but didn't put any space between them.
"She was all over you, it was pathetic," she countered. "Besides, nobody messes with my fiancé. Fake or not. I had to let her know what's good."
“Damn Griffs, you shut that shit down quick,” Octavia laughed as she and Raven danced their way over to them. “That poor girl never saw what was coming for her.”
“Yeah, jealousy is a good color on you,” Raven winked. “Scary, but hot.”
“I’ve got to keep this shit on lockdown," Clarke merely shrugged, tightening her hold around Lexa’s neck just slightly. “Poor bitch must have fallen victim to all that irresistible charm and good looks you warned me about,” she winked up at her.
Lexa laughed full and bright, leaning in closer as the music changed to something a little louder and more upbeat. "I guess I can start calling you the old ball and chain, huh?"
Enjoying putting on a show for Danielle, who was still watching them from the far side of the dance floor (and everyone else around them, it seemed), Clarke pulled Lexa closer, tangling her fingers in her hair, and put her mouth to the shell of her ear. Lexa could feel the smirk stretched across her lips.
"As long as you keep those hands on me," she husked, "you can call me whatever you want, Lexa."
Holy fuck. Maybe she’d had too much to drink, but for Lexa, hearing her name drip out of Clarke's mouth like that while they moved so close to one another sent her reeling. The two continued to dance without putting so much as a hair's distance between them. With the music playing and the alcohol running through her veins, the intimacy of the front of Clarke's body pressed so closely against her- the smell of her hair, the soft tickle of breath on her neck- it almost felt real.
-
By the time they staggered out of the club to wait for their Uber, Clarke was ready to go home. She was sleepy and her feet hurt. She was also definitely more drunk outside than she had been inside. Everything was starting to seem fuzzy around the edges. As she glanced around the group, she noticed she was not alone. Both Lexa and Raven were moving with a dulled laziness that only ever accompanied a night of drinking, while Octavia was barely keeping herself awake, teetering dangerously on her feet as they waited on the curb.
Now that it was the wee hours of the morning, and they were all covered in sweat, it was also much colder than it had been when they'd arrived earlier that night.
"Fucking freezing out here," Clarke grumbled, fighting back a shiver as she fought to stay on her feet.
She hummed in surprise when Lexa took it upon herself to wrap her arms around her from behind, pressing her warm body against Clarke’s back. She didn't even have to ask this time.
"S'better, babes?" Lexa asked lazily against her ear. It sent a shiver down Clarke's spine, but for a whole different reason. One she didn't linger too long on.
Lexa was really getting good at this whole acting thing. Also, Clarke was really drunk.
"Ah, chivalry lives," she mused, pressing further into the warm embrace.
"I told you," Lexa murmured into her neck as she rested her head on her shoulder.
A few moments later, a small black sedan pulled up to the curb. "Are one of you ladies Raven?" The driver asked.
"The one and only," Raven said, offering a crooked solute. "Okay, kids, get your drunk asses in the car," she motioned to the others.
The young man, Ricky, as he introduced himself, quickly got out of the front seat to help the women get into the car. Octavia, being the most unsteady, was ushered in first, sprawling out across the back bench.
"Uh, is she okay?" Ricky asked when Octavia almost immediately began snoring.
"Yeah, she's just a lightweight," Raven assured him, reaching in to push her over a bit and strap her into the middle seat. Standing back up, she turned to Clarke and Lexa, who were still standing huddled together on the curb. "Uh, do you guys want me to prop her up, so you can get in?"
Clarke just waved her off, "No, let her sleep. We'll squeeze in."
"Suit yourselves," Raven shrugged, sliding into the front seat and closing the door.
Clarke reluctantly stepped out of Lexa's hold and peered into the back seat, noting that Octavia had really only left room for one person to sit.
"Looks like we're lapping up, Woods," she said, motioning for Lexa to get in.
Once Lexa was settled in the remaining back seat, Clarke climbed in after her, situating herself carefully on Lexa’s lap and pulling the door closed behind her.
"Are we all in, ladies?" Ricky asked, peering through the rear view mirror.
"Good to go," Clarke affirmed, flashing a thumbs up.
As the car pulled away, Clarke had to hold on to the handle above the door so as to not to dislodge herself from her precarious seat on Lexa's lap.
"You're okay. I've got you," Lexa murmured, wrapping her arms securely around Clarke's waist.
Clarke turned to the side, mouth turned up in a smirk, "You don't have to keep showing me how chivalrous you are, Lex. I believe you now."
"I'm a woman of my word," Lexa shrugged, a lazy smile settling on her lips.
“You sure are,” Clarke mused, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Octavia was still out cold. “We did good tonight, too. I think she actually bought it.”
“I think so too,” Lexa agreed. “At least, I hope she did.”
Clarke hummed her agreement. She knew they would still have to face her tomorrow, but for right now, she felt like the hardest part was pretty much over.
“Did you have fun?” she asked, turning back to face Lexa.
She seemed to think about it for a moment before nodding, “You know, I actually did. I hate stuff like this usually, but tonight it wasn’t so bad.” Her brow knitted in concentration as she picked a piece of glitter off from her pants distractedly. “You being there helped a lot.”
It was said with a tone of nonchalance that the deep flush of her ears betrayed and Clarke was surprised by the rush of affection she felt for her in that moment. She almost felt like she didn’t know what to do with it all.
Suddenly, Ricky drove over a bump, causing Clarke to throw her arms around Lexa's neck, at the same time, causing Lexa to pull Clarke more closely into her.
“Holy shit,” she mumbled. The spinning in her head seemed to be amplifying the unsteadiness of the world around her.
When Clarke looked up at Lexa again, their faces were mere millimeters apart. Frozen.
In an instant, something shifted in the air between them. The same electric anticipation she'd felt at the bar buzzed just beneath the surface of her skin.
"Is this okay?" She whispered into the small space between them. Though, she wasn't sure why.
When Lexa's gaze met hers, the intense, blown look in her eyes surprised Clarke a bit, excited a deep down part of her.
"Yes," she breathed. The moment was heavy with something Clarke couldn't quite place.
She nodded. And then just because she could, and because she couldn't hold it inside her in that moment, she leaned forward and connected their lips.
Unlike on the dance floor, this kiss was soft, slow. Searching in a way that left Clarke feeling like the floor had been pulled from underneath her.
It was also notably away from the prying eyes of onlookers. A fact which sober Clarke could worry about in the morning, because in this exact moment, all drunk Clarke could focus on was the feeling of Lexa kissing her back.
As their lips moved against each other, Clarke turned her head to deepen the kiss, threading her fingers into the hair at the nape of Lexa's neck.
When Lexa opened her mouth to let Clarke's tongue explore her, taste her more deeply, Clarke had to swallow her moan. Every inch of her skin was on fire. She couldn't remember the last time she'd kissed anyone like this. The last time she'd felt like this. Burning and dizzy and yearning.
Lexa brought her hand up to stroke her jaw, sliding her long, nimble hands along her face to cup the back of her neck as she changed the angle of the kiss, sliding her nose along Clarke's as she did.
Clarke wasn’t sure what was going on, but she couldn’t find it in herself to stop, enjoying the soft press of Lexa’s lips and the eager thrill that pounded in her chest. She felt consumed by sensation.
Only when her lungs burned for air did Clarke finally pull away from Lexa, taking pride in the small whine that escaped her.
Foreheads pressed together and slightly out of breath, they sat in charged silence for a moment, not daring to move. When Clarke opened her eyes, Lexa's focused gaze bore into her. Wide and searching.
"What was that for?" She whispered.
Clarke glanced over at Octavia's sleeping form. What was that for? ‘Just because’ didn’t feel like a good enough answer. She tried to think back to what was going through her head when she leaned in, but her mind was still reeling from the adrenaline of it all. And quite frankly, in this exact moment she couldn't find it in herself to care all that much. Drunk Clarke wasn't really a thinker, anyway.
"I don't know," she admitted with a shrug. "Was it okay?"
Lexa's eyes glanced over Clarke's shoulder at the back of Raven's seat before flitting back to her, briefly stopping at her lips before settling on her eyes.
"Yes," she nodded. The look in her eyes was honest. Vulnerable. A little hazy. Clarke couldn't help but acknowledge how beautiful she was in that moment. Face flushed, lips swollen and kiss-bruised.
The air sitting in the small space between them was buzzing and Clarke's chest burned with an anxious kind of anticipation. Of what, though, she couldn't say.
Suddenly they were sucked back to reality when the car came to a stop outside their apartment building.
"Okay ladies, I hope you all enjoy the rest of your evening,” Ricky smiled as the lights came on in the car.
When she caught a glimpse of their reflection in the rearview mirror, Clarke was surprised to see the same blown look in her own eyes that she’d seen in Lexa’s. The matching hunger sitting between them, hair mussed and cheeks burning. She felt a rush of heat to her core.
She had a feeling she was going to enjoy the rest of her evening very much.
-
Lexa didn't know how they made it up the elevator and into her room. She was especially unsure of how she'd managed to survive the cardiac unrest that had taken residence in her chest and amplified with every smoldering glance and lingering touch she and Clarke had exchanged on their way up, but the moment the door closed behind them, they were crashing into each other.
She wasn’t sure who moved first, but she really couldn’t care less. The only thing her mind could focus on was the fact that Clarke Griffin was kissing her. Again. She thought she was going burst when she had kissed her in the car, soft and heated and searching, but this? This was so much more. This was greedy lips and desperate moans attacking her senses, burning into her skin as she was haphazardly pressed up against the dresser. It was frantic, grasping. Pulling at the knot in her chest as she fought to reconcile reality with the scene unfolding before her
Clarke moved from her lips to her neck and Lexa let out a sharp gasp at the feeling of soft skin under her fingers as they slid under the hem of Clarke's dress to stroke her thigh, riding up dangerously close to the slope of her ass. This was getting out of hand. She needed to regain control.
While Lexa's brain was yelling at her to stop, her...other parts were egging the rest of her body on, making it hard to wrangle her grasping limbs. Ultimately, her brain won out, but only by a small margin.
"Clarke, Clarke wait," she panted against her lips, barely maintaining the self-control to pull away. Clarke groaned at the interruption, spurring another surge of fire to Lexa's core, but she held her ground. "We're both drunk and although I'm really enjoying this- like, I cannot stress enough how much I am enjoying this right now - we're both drunk and I really don't want to fuck up our friendship over a sloppy, drunken hookup that we'll probably not even remember in the morning."
Clarke leaned her forehead against Lexa's, putting a few millimeters between their lips and nodded.
"Yeah," she panted. "Yeah, you're right."
They were both still gasping for air, grasping at what little self-control they could muster as they pulled a little further apart. Clarke ran her hands from their purchase on Lexa’s neck down her front to the loops of her pants, clearing her throat.
"Would you stay here with me tonight?" She looked up with such soft, hopeful eyes that made Lexa's chest clench. "O is here anyway, so, I mean, it’d be weird if you took the couch.”
Lexa fought with herself for a moment. This was probably a bad idea. Could she control herself while she’s lying next to Clarke in her own bed? Feeling the heat of her skin so close after already knowing what it feels like under her fingertips? Under her lips?
Her lips. Lexa took in Clarke’s disheveled appearance from her tussled hair, to the flush claiming her cheeks, her neck, her heaving chest, and back to those insistent, kiss-bruised lips. In that moment, she felt stone cold sober. She thought Clarke might be the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Her head swam with swirls of pulsing yellow, orange, and intense deep purple at the lingering feeling of those lips burning into her skin, sighing into her mouth only moments ago.
It was all evidence of Lexa’s apparently blatant lack of control when it came to Clarke.
She was right, though; it would look bad if she slept on the couch while Octavia was there. They had to keep the act up at least until tomorrow morning. Because that’s what it was: an act.
“Yeah, okay,” she nodded, swallowing around the lingering heat rising in her throat. “Just for tonight.”
After grabbing some sleep clothes, Lexa excused herself to get ready in the bathroom. Standing before the sink, she gripped the edges with white knuckles and let out a shaky breath, splashing some cold water on her face in an attempt to collect her nerves. When she looked up, she was surprised to see her puffy, kiss stained lips and hazy green eyes, blown to the rim, staring back at her through her reflection. Evidence of her weakness.
Her eyes shot to a single angry, red mark just beginning to fade on the side of her neck. Her own weakness may have allowed it to happen, but their tryst was mutual, albeit heavily influenced by alcohol. Right? She unconsciously ran her fingers over it.
Nein. Hör auf.
Quickly shaking the thoughts from her head, she cupped some more cold water in her hands and ran it over her neck, willing the mark to fade more quickly.
Once her heart rate returned to normal (or as close as she was going to get tonight), she gathered her clothes and returned to the room.
After knocking gently (on her own door), Lexa slipped in to find Clarke already lying face down, sprawled out beneath the covers of her bed.
“Clarke?” She whispered as she tentatively crept towards the bed. As she got closer, she could see Clarke’s back rising and falling rhythmically with her breathing as she slept. She must have passed the fuck out.
Rolling her eyes as she fought off a surge of affection for her, Lexa lifted the covers and slid in as carefully as she could, trying her best to situate herself in such a way that she was not pressed up against Clarke’s sleeping form. It’d be a lot easier, though, if she wasn’t taking up the entire goddamn bed.
After a few minutes of grumbling and careful repositioning of Clarke’s limbs, Lexa was finally able to lay down, letting out a sigh as she slid further into the warm embrace of her bed. She’d nearly forgotten how comfortable it was.
She laid there for a while, staring up at the ceiling, willing her eyes to grow heavy, willing her atoms to stop spinning, willing her body to forget the fact that Clarke was lying just inches away from her. She swallowed the urge to reach out and touch her. Swallowed her weakness as she envied Clarke’s uncanny ability to mimic the dead as she slept. Peaceful. Care-free.
She said nothing in protest, however, when Clarke turned over and slung an arm around her waist in her sleep, tucking her head into Lexa’s chest with a contended sigh.
She may have wrapped her arm around her back, pulling her in closer. She may have pressed her lips to the crown of her head, breathing in a heady mixture of blonde hair and alcohol. She may have let the last remaining shred of her walls crumble at the feeling of Clarke’s warm lips pressed into the crook of her neck as she settled further into her embrace.
She may have, but it was impossible to tell, as her mind finally succumbed to sleep.
She’d worry about it in the morning.