Chapter Text
Bellamy Blake wasn't the type to join a frat. In fact, he wasn't even the type to go to a frat party- but the free housing couldn't be overlooked. So he pledged and partied only as much as was necessary, and beyond that kept to himself. Unfortunately, living in a frat house meant only so much could be avoided.
Bellamy was cursing his life choices as he stumbled down the stairs, past far-too-drunk clumps of his peers, needing a bowl of cereal and a coffee in order to finish reading the assigned chapters for his Greek and Roman History course. He was trying to breathe through his mouth as he passed the bathroom- covered in several different colors of vomit at only midnight- when he caught sight of someone out of the corner of his eye. Forgetting the pungent barf smell to his left, Bellamy whipped around.
"Octavia?" Bellamy didn't have a particularly deep voice, but the gravelly undertones cut through the stupor of the room with ease. The brunette turned slowly, her face a mixture of annoyance, guilt, and pure drunkenness. Bellamy's eyes zeroed in on the red solo cup currently clutched in her freckled hand and he was across the room in seconds.
"Bell- I can explain, I-" The guys who had been chatting with Octavia made a hasty exit upon getting a close-up of Bellamy's frame and the Greek letters on his shirt. Octavia slurred and wobbled.
"O, what the fuck are you doing here? You know these parties are bad news. And what are you doing-" he snatched the cup from her hand, his skilled nose detecting a rum and coke- "drinking? Did you really think I wouldn't be here? How did a freshman even get in with-" Bellamy was cut off by a high pitched, angry shriek that might even have matched his skill for dispersing a crowd.
"Octavia!" Bellamy barely had time to appraise the blonde before she was upon them- all he could see was a flash of golden hair and sharp cheekbones. "Christ, Octavia, I told you not to leave me alone out here- and who is this?" The blonde noticed poked a finger into Bellamy's chest. "Unfortunately, my friend's a little too drunk to go home with you tonight. Sorry." The strange girl was brushing hair out of Octavia's eyes and straightening her skirt for a few long, shocked seconds before Octavia started giggling.
"Clarke- this is my- you thought he was?" She continued drunkenly laugh hiccuping as the girl- Clarke, apparently- watched in confusion. Octavia pointed to Bellamy, who couldn't think of anything to say. "This is my brother." Bellamy grimaced, scrubbing a hand across the hair at the back of his neck. Clarke straightened, blushing.
"You never told me you had a brother." Octavia giggled again.
"That's 'cause he's no fun!" She reached for another red cup but was stopped.
"Well, nice to meet you, Bellamy. Sorry about the- confusion." Clarke glanced to the Sigma Kappa Phi logo on his shirt with just a pinch of distaste. "Enjoy your party. I'll get her home." Bellamy got his senses back just as Octavia paled and bent over.
"I'm- I'm gonna barf, I-" Bellamy wasted no time, shepherding Octavia and Clarke into the poorly ventilated bathroom and quickly helping his sister to her knees. He held her hair back as she vomited, tears mixing with her mascara. Clarke closed the door and cursed under her breath.
"Damn, you really are her brother." Clarke pulled a hair tie off her wrist and tied back the brunette's hair. Bellamy's brow stayed furrowed.
"Cute." He smiled, tight-lipped. "This brings me back to when she got the stomach bug in third grade. Worst case of a 24-hour-bug I've ever seen." Clarke scoffed jokingly.
"I used to wait in the ER for my mom's shift to end, so I've seen some similar situations." She flushed the toilet and the contents of Octavia's stomach. "Vomit doesn't faze me anymore." Octavia giggled and finally spoke up.
"Good, 'cause it's not even one o'clock yet. Let's have some fun, Clarke!" With that declaration, Octavia busted back out the door and squeezed into the crowd.
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It took the pair of searchers nearly five long, bass-boosted minutes to find Octavia. She had settled into the corner of a beer-stained couch and was playing a game with some other partygoers. She had found another red solo cup, which Bellamy promptly confiscated.
"Let's go, Octavia." Clarke started lifting her friend, but Octavia pouted, going limp.
"Lemme just finish the round. Then we can go, I promise," Octavia drawled, dragging out the last word. Bellamy pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd never been the type to submit to temper tantrums, but one round couldn't be forever. He'd satisfy his sister and then bring her back home.
"Fine. What were we playing?" Hogan, a senior Sigma Kappa Phi member, obliged.
"Truth or dare."
"What is this, tenth grade?" Bellamy moved to hoist his sister away.
"It's the drinking game version. If you refuse a truth, you take a shot. If you refuse a dare, you take three shots." Octavia giggled and clapped her hands. "But everybody does the dares. Three shots don't go down so easy, obviously." Octavia giggled again. "Pour your sister a drink." Bellamy handed Octavia some cranberry juice- she was probably out of it enough not to be able to tell the difference. Clarke settled next to her drunk friend, sighing and opening a beer bottle.
"Fine. One round," Bellamy answered. He gave Clarke a tight look as he heard the familiar hiss and clink of her bottle opening. "Hey. How old are you?" Clarke rolled her eyes.
"Octavia can tell you in the morning. And I'm not trying to get drunk, don't worry." Bellamy would have had some choice words for her, but a weedy sophomore piped up from across the circle. He had headphones around his neck, but for a second, Bellamy thought they were goggles.
"Ok, uh, Maya. Truth or dare." the boy looked to a mousy girl on his left with something more than friendship in his eyes.
"Truth."
"Are you a virgin?" The girl blushed and Bellamy groaned internally. How long was one round?
"Hate to be the prude in the room, but- yeah." She chuckled nervously. The way goggles was looking at her, she might not be a virgin for long.
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The 'round' progressed slowly. Apparently, a round lasted until someone had taken ten shots, though they didn't usually go that long. As the Smirnoff slowly emptied, the question askers got drunker and the questions and dares got more invasive. One guy had to lick another guy's nipples. One guy was dared to remove a girl's bra with his teeth (he couldn't). Octavia wasn't asked or dared anything, thank god. By then much of the room as playing, and suddenly it was some emo girl's turn.
"Truth or Dare," she twisted her nose ring, "Bellamy Blake." The girl focused her eyes on him and he stiffened. Most people weren't too aware of his presence, but he vaguely remembered taking this girl back to his room once. Christ. Had she been here all night? Way to set an example for his sister. A small hush closed over the players as they looked to him.
"Truth." He could tell it was the wrong choice by the girl's face. Now he remembered taking her back to his room. Now he could see she was bitter about being kicked out in the morning.
"Alright. Is the rumor true?" She flipped a sheath of black hair over her shoulder as Bellamy's brow creased. 'The rumor'? That could be many things.
"You'll have to be more specific."
"Is it true your parents are dead?" Now the room was really quiet. The breath was knocked out of Bellamy's chest. If he took the shot, that'd be admitting it. But he didn't want to explain.
"Pour me one." Unfortunately, Octavia had always been the talker of the family.
"Ugh, what a waste of vodka," she whined, turning to the emo girl. "And what a waste of a question." Octavia let out a noise somewhere between a laugh and something darker. "Who gives a fuck about anybody's parents?" She snatched the bottle and managed to get in a long swig before Bellamy ripped it away from her. "This is college. We're here to escape our parents, aren't we?" Clarke scoffed, and Bellamy was all at once reminded of her presence. Unfortunately, everyone else in the circle was, too. Wallace, a pure asshole of a junior, piped up from the corner of the room.
"Okay, no answer to that. How 'bout you, blondie? Truth or dare?" Clarke narrowed her eyes at Wallace.
"I'm not playing."
"Everybody's playing. And your feisty friend doesn't want to go home yet, does she?" He used his Heineken to gesture to Octavia. Clarke raised an eyebrow and sipped her beer.
"Fine. Dare." Wallace grinned evilly.
"Make out with me." Clarke flinched, but Bellamy beat her to a retort.
"That's against the rules. The dare can't involve you." The room murmured agreement. "Also, fuck off, Wallace." Bellamy wasn't shy to call out his frat brothers, a fact that didn't get him so far socially.
"Fine, O Chivalrous Bellamy." Wallace held something poisonous behind his tongue. "Oh, Rapunzel?-" he batted his eyelashes mockingly at Clarke- "If you won't kiss me, why not your knight in shining armor?" He gulped his beer and pointed to Bellamy.
"What?" Bellamy hoped he wasn't blushing. He had just met this girl, and god knows how old she was, and sure she was hot, but- shit.
"Come on, Wallace." Clarke groaned. "I can't do three shots this late. I have to get home."
"You don't have to take three shots. Just do the dare." Clarke rolled her eyes as Octavia drunkenly giggled. Bellamy shut up his sister with a sharp glare.
"You don't have to do this, I don't care if you-" Bellamy interjected, but Clarke cut him off with another eye roll. Bellamy wondered for a moment if it was to hide a blush of her own.
"Ugh. Whatever." Clarke raised an eyebrow, asking, and Bellamy shrugged. He might regret this later, but it would be just one kiss. And even before he could preemptively inhale, she yanked his collar and pressed her lips to his. It was quick and close-mouthed, but her sweet lip balm burned him where it touched. If she hadn't pulled away, he might have been liable to keep going. Clarke turned back to the crowd. "Round over."
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Bellamy sat there for three long, stupid seconds before he became aware of his surroundings. Clarke was hauling Octavia to the door. He sprung up to help her.
"Christ, sorry- here, let me-" Clarke turned around, struggling to hold up most of Octavia's dead weight.
"I think it's time to go. Thanks for having us, and enjoy your party." Clarke said it with a pinch of distaste and Bellamy remembered his Sigma Kappa Phi shirt. He probably looked like such an asshole, throwing this party and letting his sister get drunk. Still, it took him a few seconds to gather himself.
"Wait- sorry- this isn't my party." Clarke turned, raising an eyebrow. "I can explain later. Let me help you get her back to your dorm." He eased another arm under Octavia, who protested as he all but carried her. Clarke shucked her heels with a sigh as they exited the frat.
"So, you are Sigma Kappa Phi, and you live in that house, but that wasn't your party?" Clarke finally asked. The just-turned-October air pulled the hair on her arms to attention and the concrete was cold under her feet. Apparently, they weren't going to talk about the kiss. Fine by him.
"It's, uh, it's complicated. But I was actually chewing out this one-" he gestured to Octavia, who was almost completely passed out- "for drinking when you showed up." Clarke chuckled.
"I promise the vodka wasn't part of my plan." She rubbed her shoulders in the cold and Bellamy wondered if he should offer his jacket. He had just kissed her, after all.
"I'm sure. Recklessness suits my sister well." He steadied Octavia. "Are you two in the same dorm?"
"Yeah, I'm down the hall from her. I'm surprised she never mentioned an older brother," Clarke said.
"So you are a freshman?" Bellamy winced and Clarke chuckled lowly. "Shit. Anyways, she made me promise to leave her alone for the first semester- so she could make her own friends." He rolled his eyes jokingly. "Something about me being overprotective." Clarke gave him a pointed grin, jutting her chin at Octavia, now clasped in Bellamy's arms and curling into his sweatshirt.
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After much stumbling and protesting, they reached the third floor. Unfortunately, Octavia had woken up. Bellamy was almost out of breath.
"Christ, O, you're easier to deal with when you're passed out," he huffed. She giggled and rummaged for her key. Clarke pulled it from the drunk girl's back pocket and swiped it, opening the door. The trio entered the room and Bellamy set up Octavia with a glass of water and some tylenol. He was hoping she hadn't been drunk too many times before, so maybe this hangover would be a lesson.
"I'm gonna go, Octavia. I'll see you in the morning?" Clarke asked. Octavia nodded sleepily and Clarke turned off the lights as they shuffled out of the dorm. Thank god Octavia's roommate had dropped out- homesickness, apparently- or they might have had more trouble getting her home. Bellamy sighed. In the fluorescent light of the dorm hallway, he could see Clarke's face properly. His gaze softened and he allowed himself to really look at her: blonde hair framing a sharply cut face and even more dangerous-looking blue eyes. Her strong chin melted into a neck and a body that rolled in and out of curves with ease. Bellamy shook his head. Was he checking out his little sister's friend?
"You good to go from here?" He broke the awkward silence.
"Yeah, I'm number 33." She started down the hall, but turned around- with what he could almost believe was a hint of a blush. "Oh, and Bellamy- sorry about the truth or dare situation earlier. I assumed it was better than you having to drag two drunk girls back here."
"Yeah, that'd look shady. Nah, it was- no problem." Clarke bit her lip, an almost small enough action for him to miss. But it just made him remember.
"But I might be by in the morning to check on her, so- I'll see you then?" Clarke nodded, slipping into her dorm room.
"Guess you will."