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Not to give asshole conservatives too much anti-LGBT ammo, but Bellamy has never really believed in the sanctity of marriage.
It’s more about being raised agnostic than being bi, he's pretty sure—he doesn’t believe in the sanctity of anything, aside from secular, universal things like Beyoncé—but it's also about the actual material benefits of marriage. As long as there are social and financial advantages to being married, it feels wrong to him, to restrict consenting adults from partnering like that for any reason. Especially when so many people who make religious arguments seem to be using it as a shield for bigotry. Which isn't marriage's fault, obviously, but still. Between his sexuality and how badly both being married and not being married went for his mom, he's not really a fan. And when he has the opportunity to give marriage, as an institution, the middle finger, he’s all in.
So he proposes to his best friend.
It’s not really a big deal, in most ways. He and Nathan Miller have been roommates since Miller graduated from college, and Bellamy has always fretted over him. Bellamy frets over everyone; it's kind of his thing. But it’s not until Miller comes down with strep throat and wants to not see a doctor that the marriage thing comes up.
“I would have gone sooner if I knew it was strep,” says Miller, like this is an excuse. “You can’t tell me you go to the doctor every time you have a sore throat.”
Bellamy would like to say that he does, but health care in this country is a nightmare, and he grew up with really shitty coverage. For most of his life, he avoided the doctor too. But now he works at a hospital, which means he has cheap, reliable insurance, and while he still doesn’t need it that often, he’s not living his life terrified of what will happen if he gets sick.
If his mother had the plan he has now, she might still be alive. So once Miller’s through his antibiotic treatment and back to normal, Bellamy says, “Hey, you should marry me.”
Miller doesn't even blink. “Flattered, but not really into you like that.”
He rolls his eyes. “To get on my insurance. I checked the rates, they don’t even go up if I’m married. You'd have to go to my hospital, but it's not like it's that far. And then you could actually get medical attention when you need it."
"Seriously?" he finally asks.
"Why not?"
"I'm pretty sure there are some downsides."
"Like what? We don't need to merge bank accounts or anything. Taxes might be weird, but we already live together. I've got really fucking cheap and actually decent insurance. You might as well use it."
"What about dating?"
"What about it? You really want to get serious about someone who doesn't think US healthcare is a mess?"
"I'm married, but it's just for insurance sounds like something you say when you want to have an affair."
"I'll meet them and tell them it's true, I don't care."
Miller pauses and reconsiders, looking Bellamy up and down like he's seeing him for the first time. "You really want to do this."
"I'm not secretly in love with you, don't worry."
"You just want to stick it to the man, I know. We get married and get all the benefits, and you feel like you're gaming the system."
"Also, I don't want you to die from some easily curable disease. Gaming the system is cool, but seriously, it's amazing I didn't catch your strep. I don't want you bringing this shit home."
"How much would I be paying for your insurance?" Miller asks, and Bellamy smiles.
His insurance is basically free; Miller doesn't stand a chance.
*
The thing is, Bellamy really doesn't expect the marriage to ever have a huge impact on his life. He and Miller mostly call themselves roommates, and it's one of those things that's just technically true. They file joint tax returns, Miller has a primary care doctor and dental care, and Bellamy has peace of mind and a smug sense of getting something over on a society that's never treated him well.
The biggest impact is, to his surprise, at work. Bellamy got the job at the hospital right out of high school, without putting much thought into it. He couldn't afford college, and he knew that hospitals paid decently and always had work. He started as a receptionist at the front desk, registering patients, running insurance, and keeping track of copays, and it hasn't always been the most mentally stimulating work, but he's good at it and has gotten regular promotions and escalating duties. It's a day job, but a decent one, and he thinks if he ever leaves it, he'll be in good shape to get another position using the skills he's learned here.
What it's not is one of those jobs where they're a family, which is a plus for him. He likes and gets along with his coworkers, but he's never talked to them about his personal life, and he wasn't expecting to talk to them about his marriage either. He doesn't wear a ring, and even if the relationship was real, he doesn't think it would come up very often.
But his boss is friends with someone in HR, who mentioned Bellamy's recent marriage offhandedly, and his boss made a point of being very visibly happy about it in that over-the-top, straight-person-who-wants-to-be-cool-with-queer-people way. In the years since then, Bellamy has brought Miller up when he's relevant, the casual references to his husband coming up every few weeks, on the outside. Miller is his best friend and the most important person in his life, aside from his sister, but he doesn't even talk about Octavia that much with these people. So it's not suspicious or anything. He's as married at work as he feels like he needs to be.
But it does suck sometimes, and Clarke getting hired is one of those times.
Bellamy has been married for almost four years when Jaha brings her by his desk to introduce her, and his first thought is that she's kind of cute. But plenty of people are cute. It doesn't have to be a big deal.
"Bellamy, this is Clarke Griffin, a new counselor. Clarke, this is Bellamy, the front desk supervisor. He's also one of our--"
Bellamy knows what this pause means, and when he meets Clarke's eye, he can tell she knows too. It's always fun, trying to figure out what Jaha will say about his sexuality. He's doing his best, but he has more enthusiasm than tact or knowledge.
"He has a husband," is what he settles on. "So the two of you should have a lot to talk about."
Bellamy stands and offers Clarke his hand to shake. "Do you have a husband too?" he asks, and Clarke flashes him a small, amused smile, even as she lets Jaha off the hook. It is her first day. She doesn't know how to fuck with people yet.
"I'm bisexual. I got hired partly to provide better service and outreach for the LGBT community here."
"Cool. I couldn't figure out what the difference was between bi and pan, but pan is also a mythological figure so I usually go with that."
She smiles again, and she's still cute, which is an unfortunate thing to be thinking about a woman who has just been told he's married. Especially at work. He doesn't think he's doing anything actually illegal with the whole marriage thing. He and Miller live together, file joint taxes, and love each other. He doesn't generally mind explaining the situation to people--most of his friends know, and he's dated some since he got married. It's a weird arrangement and not everyone likes it, but he's not ashamed.
Still, he doesn't think he can explain it. If anyone thinks he's defrauding them, it's going to be his place of work and his insurance, and anything he could say about it would be suspect.
Besides, just because she's cute doesn't mean she's interested. Telling her would be weird and stupid on about fifteen different levels.
"It's probably good," he tells Miller that night.
Miller snorts. "Uh huh."
"Seriously. Hitting on coworkers is a bad idea, and I don't know anything about her. The last thing I want is a stupid fucking crush. She thinks I'm married, so I can't do anything inappropriate."
"I'm pretty sure married people do inappropriate shit all the time. But I get it."
"Yeah?"
"You don't want people you're attracted to to know you're married. Trust me, I get it. I'm never telling that hot guy at the coffee shop that you exist."
He snorts. "Yeah, he doesn't have to know. She's just pretty," he adds, sighing. "Her personality probably sucks. I'll stop worrying about it soon."
"Sure you will," says Miller, patting him on the shoulder, and Bellamy just glares.
*
The primary reason he doesn't think the Clarke thing will be a real issue is that he doubts he'll actually talk to her much. He doesn't have a ton of interaction with most of the providers--they'll pass his office, sometimes say hi or smile, ask about billing issues or rescheduling appointments, but they're not the people he sees every day and hangs out with.
Not that he really hangs out with any of his coworkers that much, even the ones who work near him. Which is just more evidence that it won't be an issue.
But he does keep paying attention to her. He tells himself it's the bi thing, not the attraction thing--there aren't a lot of openly queer people in the office, so he does feel a connection to her, some curiosity. Most of his friends in the community are guys he knows through Miller, and most of them ID as gay. A bisexual buddy might be nice.
So he's friendlier with her than he is with other people, smiling at her in the hall, chatting with her if they're both in the kitchen at the same time. It's nothing drastic, but it's more than he usually does, and the whole time he kind of hates himself for it. It's so fucking stupid.
But it doesn't get bad until she actually wants to work with him.
It's a Tuesday morning and he's working on a revenue report, which is basically his least favorite thing, when someone knocks on his the frame of his door. Even if it wasn't Clarke, he'd be grateful for the interruption, but he's never been happier to see her.
She offers a smile. "Hey, do you have a minute?"
"Sure, come on in. What's up?"
"Can I close the door?"
"Yeah."
She does so, and he gestures for her to sit. She tends to dress more casually than some of the providers, playing up being younger and cool in a way that always seems a little performative. He suspects that when she's at home, she takes out her nose ring and favors comfort over fashion.
Not that he spends a lot of time thinking about her personal life. Obviously.
"I was hoping we could maybe talk about some more training for the desk staff about queer issues?" she offers, hesitant. "Some of my non-binary patients have complained."
"Shit, I'm sorry," he says, kneejerk.
"It's definitely more--it sounds like ignorance, not malice," she says. "I'm not surprised it didn't come up, it sounds like the patients didn't know who to talk to about it. The front-desk staff was just like, sorry, it's the system, we need to match your demographic information what the insurance has, stuff like that. It's all true, but we could give them better vocabulary."
"Yeah, of course. I've told them to put notes in about preferred name/pronouns when we have to use their insured information, but it's not really my area of expertise."
"I wouldn't say it's mine either, but one of my friends from school is NB and they came up with some language to use, so I've just been stealing that."
"Whatever you want to do is fine with me, yeah. Do you want to do the talk yourself or give me a script? I know you're busy."
Her smile is soft. "Either way works. Do you think other departments would be interested in this? Or, I guess, do you think you could convince them to let me do it for them too? You're the only person I really know who deals with front-desk stuff, I wouldn't really know where to start, but I don't want to put more work on your plate."
"We can start with this department, get it out of the way," he says. "Once we've done that, I can try to set it up with other people. I don't mind," he adds, before she can protest. "Honestly, it's more exciting than most of what I do. Let me know how long you need and I'll set up a couple of sessions so we can get everyone in. Two should be enough."
She nods. "Could I get you to take a look before I finalize? I'll probably do a powerpoint, but you know your staff better than I do."
"Yeah, of course. You can email me or just stop by, whatever's easier for you. Like I said, this is a nice break from copay logs."
"Thanks, I appreciate it. I'll keep you posted?"
"Cool. If you ever have concerns like this, don't hesitate to tell me," he says. "We always want all our patients to feel welcome, so any feedback you get about how we can do better is great."
"I will. Thanks again."
"No problem. Have a good day."
He doesn't think much of it at the time. His appreciation for her feedback and willingness to help out with training is genuine, and he's looking forward to seeing what she comes up with, but it doesn't seem like it'll lead to a lot more interaction. She doesn't need him to do this.
But she's new to the hospital, and he thinks this is her first job out of school. She starts emailing him asking for advice, checking wording, and by the time she's actually sending him the full powerpoint, he already knows every slide.
Has anyone ever told you you're kind of intense? he emails, and she responds with an emoji with its tongue stuck out.
She's still really fucking cute, if he's honest.
And, once she's gotten her powerpoint finished and her talks are scheduled, she stops by his office on a Thursday right before five.
"Hey, I wanted to thank you again for all your help."
He knows her well enough to tease at this point. "You've thanked me like fifty times. It's getting old."
"Which is why I was going to offer some concrete thanks. Drinks, on me? Bring your husband if he's free."
"How do you know I'm free?" he grumbles.
"I get the feeling you don't have a really active social life."
"Shut up."
"Sorry, did you have plans?" she asks, all innocence, and he scowls.
"Usually I need a week's advance notice to do anything. To mentally prepare myself."
"Uh huh. You'll be fine. You live in Somerville, right? Does Davis work?"
"You're really on top of this."
"I was pretty sure if I didn't have a clear plan you'd just bail. I haven't gotten much of a social life going yet," she admits, when he raises his eyebrows. "You seem like one of my better bets. If your husband comes, that's two friends."
"You're putting a lot of faith in how much you'll like--Nate," he says, tripping over the name like always. He should have probably tried to switch to first names once they got married, but it felt like admitting to more of a deception than he wanted to be.
Which getting drinks with Clarke also will be, but he doesn't know what else to do. She's offering, and he even wants to go. He likes her; spending time with her sounds fun.
"I assume you wouldn't have married him unless he was cool," she says, which is admittedly true.
"I wouldn't have. Give me like ten minutes to finish up?"
"Sounds good. I'll meet you in the lobby."
He waits until he hears the door into the patient reception area open and close before he slumps back in his chair, groaning. It's stupid. He has no one to blame but himself, but his life is fucking stupid.
Me: Clarke wants to get drinks with me and my husband tonight
Miller: Whomp whomp
What did you tell her?
Me: Yes
Shut up
You should come
Miller: Oh yeah, I'm not missing it
Gotta scope out my competition, right?
Me: Fuck you
I'm going to have to call you Nate
Miller: Do you not want me there?
I can skip
I have work tonight anyway
Me: You have to come
The last thing I want is to be getting drinks alone with a cute girl who thinks I'm married
Miller: You are married
She's not wrong
Let me know when and where
I'll be the best husband ever
Me: Thanks, babe
Love you
Miller: Whatever
You don't even put out
He saves all his work, checks his email one last time, and then grabs his stuff and goes to find Clarke in the lobby. She's got earbuds in as she looks at her phone, and his heart lurches uncomfortably.
She's just a pretty girl. He knows lots of pretty girls. No big deal.
He knocks his knee against hers, smiles when she looks up. "Ready?"
She stops whatever she was listening to and stands, taking her earbuds out and stretching. "Ready. Is--it's Nate, right?"
"Yeah."
"Is he coming?"
"Yeah, I just have to tell him where."
"Cool. How did you guys meet?"
"Craigslist, but not for dating. He was looking for a place after he graduated from college, I had a room, he moved in."
"Relationships made easy, huh? Minimum social effort?"
He snorts. "Something like that."
"What does he do?"
"What doesn't he do? He's an actor, in theory, but acting is really tough, so he auditions a lot and has a bunch of random part-time jobs. I can't even remember what he's doing right now, he can tell you."
"Is he acting in anything right now?"
By this point in a conversation about Miller, he usually would have said that the two of them aren't actually a couple, and the deception is already weighing on him. He hasn't said anything actually untrue, not yet, but the lie of omission is in everything he says.
He'd feel bad even if he wasn't wishing this was a date.
On the train, he does manage to get some more information about Clarke. Like he thought, this is her first job out of school. Her mother's a surgeon and wanted Clarke to be too, but she decided she'd rather look into counseling, even if she sometimes feels like it's the worst fit in the world.
"I'm not exactly--I'm not what everyone wants for a sympathetic ear," she says, making a face. "I can come across as cold and calculating, but some people like that, I guess. And I'm a good advocate, which not everyone is. I know how to talk to administrators."
"Like me?" he teases.
"I was thinking of the hospital bigwigs. But I don't think I'm bad at talking to you."
"Not that bad," he says, and she grins.
Miller's got a shift at a different bar starting at eight, so he's not actually planning to stay long, so he's already waiting with a drink when Bellamy and Clarke get there. Bellamy hesitates for just a second before giving him a kiss, because that feels like the thing he'd do. And it's not like he and Miller have never kissed before.
It's still weird, obviously.
"Hey," he says, keeping his voice and smile soft.
"Hey," says Miller, making no such effort. Not that he necessarily would; Miller is rarely that guy in public. "This is Clarke?"
"Nice to meet you, you must be Nate," she says, offering her hand with a bright smile. "I'd say I've heard so much about you, but getting Bellamy to talk about his personal life is like pulling teeth."
"Hey, I told you stuff on the way over."
Clarke brightens. "Yeah, he said you're in a production of Trojan Women right now? It's one of my favorites."
Miller always loves talking shop, and Clarke clearly knows the play, and it's actually kind of nice, watching the two of them getting along. For all he doesn't know Clarke that well yet, he does like her, and she clearly could use more friends.
"How'd you end up in Boston?" Miller asks, once the theater well has run dry.
"A hospital hired me, that's all I was really looking for."
"So you just applied everywhere?" Bellamy teases.
"No, I had a couple metro areas where I knew at least one person. Just in case I'm bad at making friends."
"Which you are," he says.
"Which I am."
"Who do you know here?" Miller asks.
"Raven. We met in high school because we're dating the same guy. Honestly, I was kind of hoping there were going to be sparks?"
Bellamy frowns. "Sparks?"
"She's bi now too, so it seemed like it would be perfect. We met up again, realize we always liked each other more than we liked the guy--"
"But no?"
"Not really. You know how sometime someone feels like they should be perfect for you and you just have zero interest in an actual romance?"
Miller chokes on his drink, and Bellamy thumps him on the back. "Careful, babe."
"Thanks. I can relate to that," Miller adds. "Sorry, that sucks."
"It's cool. I've got a friend and someone to room with, that's enough for me." She stretches and cracks her neck. "I'm going to hit the bathroom. Can you order me another glass of wine if the waiter comes back?"
"Sure," says Miller. He waits until she's actually gone before he kicks Bellamy under the table, which is nice of him. "Dude, just tell her."
"I can't just tell her."
"Why not? There's no way she's going to rat you out. She'll probably think it's funny."
"It's unfair to her, right?"
"Which part?"
"Making her lie to everyone at work."
"It's not a lie. We're married. It's legal. You've gone on rants about how open marriages are a thing and no one ever gives a shit about those, tell her that if you want. But you should tell her. She's hot and you like her."
“Yeah,” he admits. “She’s cool. But—“
“But what? You're already not dating her. Worst case is that she tells your boss we’re not in love. Plenty of married couples aren’t in love. It’s not illegal.”
“No,” he admits, and sighs. “What if I tell her and she’s still not interested?”
“She’s already not interested. Your ego will survive finding out she wouldn’t be into you if you were single. Honestly, it could use a hit.”
Bellamy rolls his eyes. “Thanks. How did I ever end up with such a supportive husband?”
“You practically begged me to marry you.”
“I was desperate.” He lets out a breath. “I should do it while you’re here, if I’m doing it. So you can confirm. You know the drill.”
“I do. You'll do it?”
It still feels dangerous, but the thought is irrational. They’ve never gotten a bad reaction; everyone knows insurance sucks. The majority opinion is that it’s hilarious and Bellamy is the most overprotective person ever. Clarke will probably agree.
“Yeah, I’ll do it. I’ve got half an hour before you leave, plenty of time.”
“Uh huh.”
Bellamy doesn’t think much of the dubious tone—dubious is Miller’s usual—until Clarke sits down, and Miller greets her with, “Our marriage is a sham, my turn to go to the bathroom."
Clarke blinks. “What?”
Bellamy rubs his face. “I, uh—I want to say we aren’t really married, but we are. It’s legal and everything. But we just did it to get Miller on my insurance.”
It takes her a second, but once she recovers all she says is, “We do have pretty good insurance,” in this careful, neutral tone that gives nothing away.
“He was on some weird state plan with a really high deductible and no dental and I just—I figured he could get on mine. No big deal.”
“What’s a little marriage between friends?”
“Honestly, it doesn’t make much difference. Taxes and dating. And, uh, I have to pretend at work.”
“So why are you telling me?”
“I felt shitty not telling you,” he admits. “Jaha found out from a friend in HR or I never would have mentioned it to anyone in the office. All I wanted was the insurance benefit."
“Is that why you never talk about your personal life?”
“No, that’s just personality type.” He wets his lips. “Seriously, I’m sorry. I don’t like lying about it.”
“You didn’t lie.”
“By omission. Usually when people say they’re married, they at least think they’re in love. Which is bullshit.”
Her mouth twitches. “Sorry, marrying for love is bullshit?”
“No, but it’s bullshit that insurance coverage isn’t as legit a reason to get married as fucking—getting someone pregnant. You can be honest about that—“
“I don’t think most people are. It’s not about why you get married,” she decides. “It’s why you stay married. People get married because someone gets pregnant, or on a whim, and those reasons aren’t great. But they decide to stay together and try to make it work, or they get divorced. That’s why you feel like you’re lying. You’re married, but you’re not trying to make it work. That’s where the omission comes in.”
“Huh.”
“I am a counselor,” she says, kind of smug. “I’m good at telling people how they’re feeling.”
“It sucks that I feel like I’m doing something wrong,” he admits. Apparently she’s a good fit for him, from a counseling perspective. “Miller got strep and didn’t get it treated for a week because he was just hoping it would go away on its own. So we got married. We shouldn’t have needed to do it, but there’s nothing wrong with it. Unless I’m committing insurance fraud.”
"I don't think that's what insurance fraud is. I doubt the insurance company would be happy about it, and the hospital might not either, but--" She shrugs, takes a sip of her wine. "As long as marriage has financial and social benefits, it's shitty for people to act like it's some pure expression of love and devotion. It can be, but--it can just be the right choice. And it sounds like it was for you."
It's exactly what Bellamy himself thinks and for the first time, he thinks he might really be in trouble with this one.
*
"Did you get laid?" Miller asks, the next time he sees Bellamy. Given how incompatible their schedules are, it's two days after they had drinks with Clarke, but this is the kind of mocking Miller prefers to do in person.
"No."
"Why not?"
"I'm married but not that married isn't a great pickup line. We just got drunk and complained about the entire healthcare system, and then she hugged me and thanked me for trusting her."
"So, you're totally in love."
He sighs and drops his head back against the back of the couch. "Pretty much, yeah. She's still my coworker."
"Oh no."
"Seriously, if I start dating her everyone's going to have a bunch of questions about my marriage. I'm going to reinforce every shitty bi stereotype in the book."
"You can't live your life trying to keep people from being assholes about your sexuality. Correct them when they're wrong, give a lecture about ethical non-monogamy if you want. Or just divorce me."
"Dude, no. I'm not divorcing you just because I kind of like a girl."
"You aren't actually planning to stay married to me for the rest of your life, are you?"
"Just until you find someone else who has insurance and wants to marry you. As long as you keep good coverage--"
Miller hooks his arm around Bellamy's neck, presses a sloppy kiss to his temple. "Dude, I love you, but you don't have to put your life on hold until I get married. You're not a fucking Jane Austen heroine who promised not to get married until her friend did. This isn't a ride-or-die situation. We can bail whenever."
"We're definitely ride or die."
"Our marriage isn't. I can get back on state coverage. I've got options."
"And if I want to get married to someone else, we'll talk about them."
"I knew I never should have married you," Miller says, rolling his eyes. "You're such a stubborn dick."
"Sorry I love you and don't want you to die."
"You should be. And you should ask Clarke out."
"Your feedback is noted." He rests his head on Miller's shoulder. "Thanks."
"Yeah, yeah. Any time."
*
Bellamy hasn't deliberately gotten into a long-term relationship since he and Miller got married, which is not to say he hasn't dated. But he hasn't sought out anything more than one-night things; Gina had to practically hire a skywriter to let him know that she was interested. He hasn't been looking, and it's possible he's actually been hiding, just a little. It's easy, to not date.
Maybe this is how people end up trapped in loveless marriages. It's so much simpler to just not worry about the whole thing. Sex is nice, but so is just being able to say he's married and ending the whole conversation.
So he'll admit to not being particularly prepared for a crush on Clarke, let alone a crush that could actually go somewhere. Which, granted, he's still not convinced it could. Clarke likes him and doesn't seem to be offended by the whole marriage scheme, but that doesn't mean she wants to date him herself.
But they do start hanging out. It's easy to grab drinks after work, to stop by her office if he's getting lunch and the door is open, and she in turn brings him coffee sometimes and complains about bureaucracy. It's not any different from before she knew the truth about his and Miller's marriage, which seems like a good indication that information has not had a strong impact on her life, but they are friends.
So he's not surprised when she says, "Raven wants to meet you."
"Your roommate Raven?"
"Yeah."
"Any particular reason?"
"I think she thinks I made you up so I could say I was making friends at work."
"Jesus, if you were going to make up fake friends you could do better than me."
"I think the real-fake-husband thing threw her off. Like--it sounds so made-up? But also why would I make up something that complicated? Except to throw her off how made up it was."
Bellamy smiles a little. "So I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me."
Clarke smiles too, ducking her head and tucking some hair behind her ear. The streak of color has switched from red to blue, and he thinks he likes this one better. "Pretty much. So, we're doing a game night at our place? Or game afternoon and evening, I guess. You can bring Miller and anyone else you want. Do you have other friends?"
“Does my ex-girlfriend count?”
“I think that’s kind of between you and your ex-girlfriend. If you want to bring her, she’s welcome.”
“If Miller’s busy she can make it look like I still have a social life, so yeah.”
“Perfect. We were thinking Sunday, but it’s pretty flexible? Let me know if there’s another time Miller can actually make it and we’ll do then.”
“I was going to say you didn’t have to reschedule for us, but I guess the whole point is that your roommate wants to meet us.”
She smiles. “It would be nice to see Miller again. And Raven wants to over-analyze your marriage.”
“There’s not much to over-analyze. But I’ll let you know.”
Miller’s show ended last week, so his schedule is less busy than sometimes. Which mostly just means he can switch his Sunday shift at the bar with Murphy and be free for game night, instead of having zero flexibility.
He’s still working until just before the game night starts, though, so Bellamy recruits Gina to go to Clarke’s with him. Safety in numbers, after all. Miller’s definitely going to be late.
“Was I a good boyfriend?” he can’t help asking, as they walk.
“Pretty good. Why?”
“We broke up. You broke up with me,” he corrects. “So I assume I could have been better.”
“I didn’t have a rubric I was using to grade you,” she teases. “You were good. I didn’t break up with you for being negligent.”
“Yeah? So why?”
She considers him. “Why are you asking now?”
“Clarke,” he admits. “The girl who’s hosting. I like her, but it’s been a while, and I don’t know if I’m—I’m not the best romantic partner, right?”
“You weren’t for me,” she says. “That doesn’t mean you aren’t for anyone. I broke up with you because I didn’t see us lasting. You were a good boyfriend, but I didn’t think I wanted to—“
She cuts herself off, and he grins. “You were going to say marry you.”
“You being married already was a factor, but not how you think.”
“No?”
“Marriage means something different to me than it means to you. I didn’t mind at first, I thought it was kind of sweet, that you’d help your best friend out. But you think marriage is just—it doesn’t matter to you. And that’s cool! I get that perspective. But I couldn’t just marry someone, and that’s the kind of thing that probably means different values over all. It wouldn’t be enough on its own, but I didn’t think we had a future. And you didn’t argue,” she adds. Her smile is easy, so he doesn’t worry she’s pissed or anything. They’re better as friends, anyway.
“I was always waiting for you to wise up and dump me.”
“You say that like you’re not serious. You totally were.”
“I totally was, yeah.” He sighs. “Like you said, I felt like we weren’t a great match. It was going to catch up to us sooner or later.”
“You still agreed to go out with me.”
“You were still hot and I still liked you.”
“Okay, so—Clarke, right? Do you think you guys are a good match?”
“Honestly? Yeah. I feel like we really get each other. She’s—“ He ducks his head. “I don’t actually need to tell you about this, huh?"
"No, you really do. I've never seen you with a crush before! I want to know what that looks like."
“Not that exciting,” he says. “I don’t know. She’s cool. Really fucking smart and dedicated. She wants to help people but she doesn’t trust her instincts, so she went to medical school and got a counseling degree so they’d teach her how. And she’s pretty good at it. And we do—I feel like we’re the same kind of people, I guess. I think she gets me, and she likes me.”
“Wow,” says Gina. “You’ve got it pretty bad, huh?”
“The fucking worst.”
Clarke’s the one to get the door when they arrive, and it’s actually Bellamy’s first time seeing her out of work clothes. As he expected, she’s dressed for comfort, yoga pants and a t-shirt, and while her hair is still streaked blue and her nose is still pierced, she looks a lot less like someone trying to be a badass.
“Hey, you made it!”
“I texted our ETA as we were leaving,” he teases. “What did you think was going to happen?”
“Like you wouldn’t send a fake ETA and then an update about something coming up if you didn’t want to come.”
“Yeah, didn’t want to come is the important phrase there. I actually do like you.”
She beams. “I knew it. And this is your ex?”
He starts, guilty that he was just ignoring Gina, but she almost certainly thinks it’s funny. “This is Gina, yeah. Gina, this is Clarke.”
“So nice to meet you,” says Gina, smiling and offering her hand. “Thanks for having me.”
“Any friend of Bellamy’s is a friend of mine. No Miller?”
“He’s at work, the person relieving him was late. He’ll be here soon.”
“Cool. You can come meet everyone else while we’re waiting.”
“I thought you didn’t have friends either.”
“I don’t. Raven does, I’m borrowing hers. And it’s not that many, anyway.”
Upstairs, he meets Monty, a college friend of Raven’s, Jasper, Monty’s best friend, and Maya, Jasper’s girlfriend. Raven herself is apparently in the kitchen, which just means Bellamy gets to make nervous small talk while being weirdly paranoid that Clarke’s best friend will hate him.
So that’s great.
He’s trying so hard to not worry about Raven showing up that he misses when she does, only becomes aware of her when a voice at his elbow says, “You Bellamy or the husband?”
He jumps about a foot in the air and whirls to see a gorgeous woman smirking at him. Ordinarily, he’d be fine with that, but he needs to get his heart rate under control before he can appreciate it.
“Bellamy,” he says, once he does.
“Thought so. And you’re...?”
“Gina,” she supplies. “Bellamy’s ex-girlfriend and current bartender.”
“Ex from before or after the husband?”
“After.”
“And you buy it?” Gina frowns, and Raven continues, “The whole fake marriage thing. You believe him?”
She shrugs. “What’s not to believe?”
“Come on, that sounds like a lie you come up with so you can have affairs without the other person worrying about it being an affair.”
“Raven—“ Clarke starts, but it actually makes Bellamy feel better. He and Miller had this same discussion; he's used to justifying himself.
“Honestly, if I was really married and wanted to have affairs, I wouldn’t have Miller pose as my husband who’s cool with it. I just wouldn’t say I was married.”
“Maybe your kink is people knowing you’re married.”
“Can I get filled in on whatever is happening here?” Jasper asks, holding up one hand. “Who’s married? What’s this stranger’s kink?”
“Bellamy and his best friend got married because his friend didn’t have insurance. Raven thinks this is a weird long con from Bellamy.”
“It is a weird long con,” he says. “But I’m conning my insurance, not my significant others.”
“That does sound like kind of a weird kink, though,” says Monty. “Just from an unbiased outsider perspective.”
“I think he’s too inept for it to be a long con,” Gina says. “He had no idea I was flirting with him. I basically had to jump him before he noticed, and even then he was kind of confused.”
“I wasn’t always this bad,” he says. “Getting married fucked with my game.”
“I’d believe that. He spend two weeks being like, I totally could date, if I wanted to, and missing that I was sending out every possible signal that he should date me.”
“Was it only two weeks? You got frustrated faster than I thought.”
Gina smiles. “We also broke up over a year ago and I’ve seen no evidence he’s married to anyone but Miller. The only other person he talks to regularly is his sister.”
“I talk to other people,” he protests, and she pats his shoulder.
"Yeah. Now you talk to Clarke."
Raven seems satisfied with this, and she herds them over to the couch for video games while they wait for Miller. He gets slotted in between Clarke and Monty on the couch, and he can’t help feeling just a little excited about it. After all, Raven’s entire interrogation didn’t make much sense unless Clarke was interested in dating him. Or Raven thinks he’s flirting with Clarke, and Clarke isn’t opposed. If she doesn’t want to date him, she shouldn’t care about his marriage at all. It should have no impact on her life.
So he's hoping it does.
He and Clarke aren't playing when the door buzzes again, so they're the ones to go let Miller in. Clarke says, "Sorry about Raven," low, as they're heading down, and he shrugs it off.
"I don't mind. I spend a lot of time justifying myself in mental arguments, it's cool to get to have one out loud."
She laughs. "Instead of just telling your mirror that your marriage is totally cool?"
"My mirror always just agrees with me, yeah."
"I just--" She bites her lip. "I never thought you were lying. That wasn't--that was all Raven."
"I know it sounds fake."
"It sounds like you, though."
"On brand?"
"Completely."
"I'm going to take that as a compliment."
Her smile is soft, and it does feel possible. That she's interested in him too, that this could somehow work.
"You should, yeah."
They get Miller and head back upstairs, and Clarke's about to do introductions when Monty says, "Nate, large soy latte, extra shot," and then immediately looks like he wants the earth to swallow him up. "I mean, hi, I recognize you."
"Hey," says Miller. "I, uh, don't actually know your name, sorry."
"It's Monty. Don't worry, I know we don't wear nametags or anything. Nate's a regular at the coffee shop," he adds, to Jasper, and Jasper smirks in a way that's definitely familiar to Bellamy.
If there's any justice in the world, Monty is definitely Miller's hot barista, and this is the start of something. Assuming Monty believed the whole we're not really married married thing.
Right on cue, Monty pats the couch next to him, the spot Bellamy recently vacated. "Okay, come sit with me and tell me about this marriage situation. I felt weird asking a stranger, but you I know. Fill me in on whatever's happening. I want all the weird details."
"Anyone who doesn't want to hear more about Bellamy's marriage or play video games can come do board games with us," Clarke says, overly bright, and the group breaks up, and then it's mostly just fun, uncomplicated and easy. He's had various friend groups come and go over the years, breaking up and reforming as people move or get new jobs or start new relationships, and if this one sticks around for a while, he won't be mad about it.
He's going to his best to make sure it does, even.
They get pizza for dinner and wrap up around nine with hugs all around and promises to do this more often, and he and Miller walk Gina home. Once they're alone, he says, "So, was that the hot barista, or does your coffee shop have a lot of hot guys working at it? Because if he's not the hot one, I think you should switch crushes. He seems perfect for you."
"Fuck you."
"So, that was him. Sorry he found out we were married, I know you wanted to keep that one quiet."
"It's fine." He huffs. "Now I know his name and we exchanged Switch friend codes, so I should probably be thanking you."
"Don't worry, I won't hold my breath."
"I didn't think he was ever going to be real, you know? Eye candy is easy."
"Yeah, I get that. But he seemed really cool."
"Yeah, apparently he's working part-time at the bakery while he does grad school, but he's got an internship starting soon and he thinks he's going to have to change his hours."
"So this was actually really lucky for you. What did you tell him about the whole marriage thing?"
"The truth." There's a long pause, and then he says, "We really should get divorced someday."
Bellamy shrugs. "Someday, yeah. You in a rush?"
"I don't know. It feels like more trouble than it's worth to explain to people, you know?"
"Yeah, but we already explained."
"What about the next time you're into someone? Or I am?"
There's a kind of myopia that comes with crushes for Bellamy, an inability to imagine moving on from this person and these feelings. He always has before, of course, but in the middle of it, it feels as if it's going to be the rest of his life. There won't be a next time; Clarke is it.
It might not be true, but it feels true, at least right now.
"Let's wait to get dumped until we get divorced. Unless you think Monty's not going to give you a chance while we're married."
"Not convinced he's going to give me a chance either way," Miller points. "But at least we got to talk about how I'm actually gay and not just married to a guy because I think it's somehow easy, like in that shitty Adam Sandler movie. And he told me he's bi."
"So you owe me one."
"From what I heard, I owe your girlfriend's overprotective roommate one."
"That's good news for me, right? Like, that was really dating-focused."
"Your girlfriend definitely has a thing for you, yeah." Miller claps him on the shoulder. "Seriously, I'll divorce you any time you want. Just say the word."
"Thanks. I'd say same, but--"
"But you're a control freak and you're afraid I'll die without supervision, I got that, yeah."
"It's nice, right?" he asks, not letting Miller play it off. "Feeling like if nothing else works out, we've got each other."
"You'd have me no matter what already, we don't have to be married for that. But I get it," he adds. "If Monty's not interested, I still get to feel like I've got someone. Backup husband. But most people just do that whole if we're forty and neither of us is married deal. We just preemptively gave up."
"It's not giving up."
"So are you going to ask Clarke out?"
He looks up at the night sky, letting out a long breath. "Honestly? I might. If I can figure out what to say. What about you and Monty?"
"Going to see how it goes. I barely know him, he might be an asshole. So if you could make sure you and Clarke get together and he keeps coming to stuff, that would be great."
Bellamy snorts. "That's my top priority, yeah."
"Hey, you're the one who wants to take care of me. Be my fairy godmother. You already got me insurance, now I need love."
"You need a kick in the ass," he grumbles. "If I hook up with Clarke, it's going to be for me, not for you."
Miller just bumps his shoulder. "Even better. Good luck with that."
"Yeah," he says, smiling himself. "I'll do my best."
*
On Monday, Clarke brings him a coffee and says, "So, Gina."
Bellamy's stomach drops, somewhat irrationally. He feels like he knows that tone. "What about her?"
"Is this one of those times when queer people flock together? Is she into girls at all?"
"Uh, yeah," he says. "She's bi, generally prefers women. I can give you her number if you want."
"Yeah, that would be--" She stops short, as if she's just catching up to the conversation. "Not for me!" she says, quick. "Sorry, it's--Raven thought she was cute? She wanted to figure out if there was a chance or if she was barking up the wrong tree."
"Oh." He clears his throat, feeling silly and elated all at once. He wasn't exactly reading into it, but the way Clarke is flushing is pretty encouraging. "Yeah, uh--I have no idea if she'd be into Raven, but she likes women generally, so it's worth a shot."
"Okay, cool. I think she's just going to set up more game nights to try to feel her out. But that was fun, right? I thought we had fun."
"You don't have to hold a vote on whether or not something is fun," he says, smiling. "If you had fun--"
"I was the host, I'm supposed to worry about whether or not my guests enjoyed themselves."
"Then we did, yeah. We should do it more." He clears his throat, because this is as good an opening as any, the time to tell her he'd love to hang out with her more, ideally one-on-one, maybe over dinner, but before he can there's a knock on his door frame and Jaha is there, smiling and reminding Bellamy that to everyone at work but Clarke, he's married, without any qualifications or complications.
"Hi, sorry to interrupt, I needed to talk to you about the monthly financial review when you have a chance, Bellamy."
"Yeah, now's fine. Clarke and I were just chatting. I'll talk to you later?" he offers, and she smiles.
"Yeah, have a good day."
He waves, half-listens to Jaha as he runs down what he needs for the review while most of his mind wanders to Clarke. To his surprise, he finds he's disappointed he didn't get to ask her out, with no relief at all about having put it off. He really wants to know if Clarke will date him. Sooner rather than later.
She has a group counseling session that runs to 5:30 on Mondays, so Bellamy drags his feet at the end of the day, hanging out finishing up reports that could wait and checking the time obsessively. It's not a productive forty-fie minutes, but it gets the job done: she has to pass by his office to leave, and when she sees his door is still open, she stops in.
"Working late?"
He smiles. "Waiting for you."
"Yeah?" she asks, sounding pleased.
"Yup." He grabs his messenger bag and shuts down his computer. "How was your day?"
"Not bad. A couple rough sessions, but the kind where I think they're going to turn out well. Sometimes you need to have the tough conversations. You?"
"Pretty boring. Figured out an issue we'd been having with getting copays posted that's even less interesting to hear about than it was to have to deal with, so I'll spare you."
"My hero."
He holds the door open for her and gives himself a block to prepare before he says, "So, uh--what are you doing tonight?"
"Nothing special. Why?"
"I was going to ask if you wanted to get dinner with me."
He makes himself shut up as soon as he's said it, which is the hardest part. It's so tempting to clarify, to give her an out, to make it clear what he's asking when he knows full well it's already clear enough. All there is to do is wait, and Clarke at least doesn't make him wait long.
"Like on a date?"
"Yeah."
“A date date?”
She sounds cautiously optimistic, so he lets himself try a teasing smile. “I didn’t think date was particularly ambiguous.”
“Neither is marriage,” she shoots back, grinning. “But here we are.”
“Then yeah, a date date,” he says. “I pay if you want me to, and if it goes well we go on more. Maybe we hold hands.”
“Split the bill and I’m in,” she says, and lets out a bright laugh before he can respond. “I thought that was going to be harder.”
“Which part?”
“Just—from what Gina said, I thought you were the most oblivious person on the planet. I was afraid you were in love with Miller and just hadn’t noticed yet.”
It’s his turn to laugh, a little sheepish. “Oh, uh—yeah, no. I didn’t notice Gina was into me because I wasn’t looking. I was on high-alert trying to figure out if I had a chance with you. I figured the whole thing where Jaha introduced me as married might be it.”
“I felt pretty bad for still thinking you were hot after that, yeah.”
“I can be hot and married.”
“You were, it sucked. And then I thought the Miller thing must be—I don’t know. It felt too neat.”
He huffs. “Neat? It’s the messiest thing in my fucking life.”
“But for me. Like, here’s this hot, smart guy who’s basically perfect for me, except he’s married, and even if I was picking up signs you might be interested, you’d be an asshole who wanted to have an affair.”
“So you asked to meet Miller.”
“Yeah. I figured you guys would be adorable and I’d feel like shit, but I’d get over thinking you were cute.”
“But you didn’t?”
“You said you weren’t really married, and that was so perfect for me. Raven thought it might be bullshit, but—“
“I promise it’s not. I’m married and not in love with Miller. He has a thing for your friend Monty, I'm hoping they make it work. And I have a thing for you.”
She smiles. “So, dinner.”
“Dinner would be great, yeah.”
“Did you have somewhere in mind?”
“I thought we’d figure it out.”
That conversation gets them to the bus, and once they’re on there and he can see that he doesn’t know anyone, he lets himself reach over and take her hand.
She smiles and squeezes his fingers. “So, you like me.”
“I really like you, yeah.”
“Good.” She presses her lips to his shoulder, smiling. “I really like you too.”
*
Dating Clarke is harder than he expected. Or, rather, dating Clarke while also being married to Miller is hard. Dating Clarke, in and of itself, is great. She’s just as amazing as a girlfriend as she was as a friend, with the bonus that he gets to kiss her and spend nights with her a few times a week, either with or without sex. He is genuinely and completely gone for her in no time, and he’s not sure he’s ever been so happy in a relationship.
So he wants to not care that he’s still married. It doesn’t feel like it should matter; it doesn’t bother Clarke, and she’s in theory the injured party. She jokes around about it, and they’ve even had a few serious conversations about it, checking in, making sure everyone still feels okay with the arrangement.
She doesn’t mind, so it’s just him. He’s the one who hates that he can’t tell anyone at work about her, hates knowing that she’s legally nothing to him. That if anyone found out, she’d be seen as a mistress, not the person he's in love with.
“I think we might have to get a divorce,” he admits to Miller, about eight months after he and Clarke started dating.
“Holy shit, finally.”
Bellamy glares. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re stupid in love with your girlfriend but you refuse to admit you want to marry her.”
“I don’t,” he says, and that’s true too. “Not yet. I’m not proposing or anything. But I need to not be married to someone else."
"Awesome. Me and Monty had a bet on when you'd admit it, I think I won."
"It didn't bother you?"
"Which part?"
"You're serious about Monty, right?"
"Yeah. But it's not as big a deal for me. I just don't tell anyone I'm married in the first place. And Monty was pretty sure you were going to ask for a divorce before we were ready to get married anyway. You and Clarke are fucking ridiculous."
"Like I said, we're not getting married. We might not ever get married. But I need to--"
"Divorce me. I get it. I won't stop going to the doctor, I promise."
"Just because we're getting a divorce doesn't mean I'm never going to see you again. We're still best friends, and I'm still going to be yelling at you to get checkups and go to the fucking dentist." He pauses. "Actually, you should make some appointments before we file the paperwork. Get everything in, just in case--"
"Jesus fucking Christ," says Miller, laughing. "Yeah, I can't live like this. I'm divorcing your overprotective, control-freak ass."
"Hey, I divorced you first."
"I would have divorced you years ago, I didn't even want to get married in the first place."
"Yeah, I forced you into it." He offers a crooked smile. "It wasn't that bad, being married to me. Right?"
"Nah," he says. "It was cool. But I think I'm ready to be done."
Bellamy nods. "Yeah. Onto the next thing."
*
Because there is apparently such a thing as luck, things are also working out with Gina and Raven so far, which means that, one, all of Bellamy's favorite people are happily in relationships and, two, he can ask Raven to go over to Gina's so he and Clarke have the apartment to themselves for what is both major and pretty minor news.
Mostly, he's hoping to have a nice evening and possibly get laid, and it's easier to do that without any roommates around.
Clarke greets him with a long kiss, which is a good start, and gives him a smile when she pulls back. "Did we have something special going on? If we did, let me know now, because I forgot and I don't want it to be embarrassing."
He laughs and gives her another quick kiss. "Nothing you knew about."
"A surprise? Really? Surprises--"
"Stress you out., I know It's not much of a surprise," he says, but now that he's saying it, it feels like a big deal. "I, uh--" He clears his throat. "I'm not married anymore. Miller and I got a divorce. It's all official."
It takes her a moment to recover, and she actually has to shake her head to get herself together. "You got a divorce?"
"Yeah."
"Why? Not--I don't mind, but you know you didn't have to. It didn't bother me."
"I know. It bothered me. I didn't like knowing if something happened to me, Miller was my next of kin. I couldn't tell anyone at work I was dating you. I don't care about you being my wife, that's not a big thing for me. But I care that you're my person, and I don't want there to be anything in the way of--"
She cuts him off with another kiss, something warm and happy, and buries her face against his neck. "I think that's the most romantic speech that's ever involved the phrase I don't care about you being my wife."
"I don't. If you want to get married someday, I'm cool with it, but--I love you. I don't really need a marriage certificate to prove it."
"And we have the same insurance already, so, really, what's the point of getting married?" she teases.
"Really, though. I don't need anything else. I just--I wanted you to know you're it. There's no one else for me."
"You're it for me too." She kisses him one more time, and then tugs on his hand. "You want to have congrats on the divorce sex?"
"I was hoping you'd say that."
After, curled together in her bed, he admits, "There might be tax reasons to get married. Someday."
Clarke laughs and kisses his shoulder. "There are still social and financial benefits, yeah. We don't have to decide today. I'm not going anywhere."
It's still not for certain, of course. They could break up for any number of reasons, in any number of ways. But he loves her, and she loves him, and planning around that stopping seems stupid. They can deal with that later.
For now, they're planning on staying together, and that's reason enough to celebrate, so he pulls her close, buries his face in her hair and smiles. "Yeah," he says. "We've got plenty of time."