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There’s a cute guy shoving fliers into his face at the entrance to the cafeteria and shouting about the unfair treatment of the cafeteria workers. Bellamy just smirks and takes the flier, although he has half a mind not to and just let this cute guy yell at him for being an ass.
“You’re so predictable,” Octavia says, the moment they’re out of earshot from Angry Social Justice Dude.
“What?” he asks.
“The first guy you see that has no chance of ever liking you, that’s who you set your sight on.”
Bellamy shrugs. “I like a challenge. And besides, it’s not like I’m actually looking for a relationship. Just looking for a bit of fun.”
“Bel, come on. You’re not actually an asshole, I know you actually want someone who could actually like you,” Octavia said. “Deep down, I know you want something nauseatingly dependable like what me and Lincoln have.”
“You and Lincoln cook brunch together and coordinate schedules and having matching tracksuits. I do not want to be you and Lincoln.” The tracksuits are hot pink. Lincoln’s choice, believe it or not.
Octavia drops the subject and goes to get some food. Bellamy can’t help himself –he turns back and smiles at the cute guy. He wants to go up to him and ask for his number but that would give O another chance to open the ‘you’re a secret sweetheart’ discussion. This is college, anyway, they’re bound to see each other again.
Clarke and Raven are the best people on earth. Of course, he’d never say that to their faces because Raven would get mad annoying and Clarke would get out her phone and ask him to repeat it so she could record that. But, as long as he’s just thinking it, it’s fine because they’re giving him notes on the Roman History class he missed.
“You’re welcome, Blake,” Raven says. “Now, as payment, you’re gonna pay for our lunch.”
“Raven, I am literally the most broke,” Bellamy says. “O is staying with me for the week because she’s visiting Lincoln and, I swear, she has, like, two stomachs or something.”
“Fine,” Raven says. “But you’re still coming with us. We need a fourth.”
“Who’s the other one?”
“My best friend, Wells,” Clarke says. “I don’t think you’ve met him, he’s been busy studying and saving the world.”
“Sounds like a great guy.”
Clarke and Raven link their arms on either side of him, making him look like he’s some pimp with two hot girls backing him up but he knows better. Clarke and Raven are the queens and he’s just their valet or some shit.
Once they enter the restaurant, Clarke waves at someone Bellamy can’t see. And, goddamn, it’s the cute guy.
Bellamy’s favourite kind of Wells Jaha is the Wells Jaha that gets riled up caring about things. And he cares about a lot.
From that first lunch alone, Bellamy can tell Wells is going to use his future law degree for the good, can tell he doesn’t want to start just when he has to, Wells wants to start now. He hands out fliers and organizes campaigns, charity walks and food drives. Bellamy already feels guilty for not seeing Wells around campus because that means he hasn’t been caring enough.
Wells, for the most part, is the friendliest guy Bellamy’s ever encountered but he’s naïve, he wants too much and he’s so good to the point that Bellamy feels inadequate. Despite all of that, though, Bellamy keeps making dates to see him.
It strikes him when Wells is over at his place because Bellamy needs help with Poli Sci assignment. They start discussing capitalism. Wells shouts about unequal distribution of resources and needs, Bellamy agrees, tells him they should dissolve the government and start a socialist movement.
Wells laughs.
“What?” Bellamy asks.
“You can’t just dissolve the government just because you don’t agree with it, man. Like, I get where you’re coming from but some of the rules are still applicable,” he says.
“Who needs rules anyway?” Bellamy asks. He’s lying on the floor, head sideways so he can still see Wells. “Our motto should be ‘whatever the hell we want’.”
“Whatever the hell we want,” Wells muses. “It’s a charming thought, Bellamy but all that causes is chaos.”
“Even if I’m leading?”
“Especially if.” Wells looks at him, unreadable. “But you’re a good guy. All you’ve wanted is to protect your sister and friends. If you really do, one day, want to start a revolution, become rebel king and all that shit, as long as you care, you’ll be fine.”
Bellamy sits up, eye-level to Wells. Man, this guy is attractive. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Then I’ll need you. No one cares as much as you do.”
Bellamy’s never been one for feelings. They’re too messy, too impossible and erratic. Sex is easy, it always has been but once he drowns deep enough to want to see another hand pulling him up, he loses it. Wells makes him loses it. He’s so good, he’s too much. Bellamy wants to please this guy so damn much.
“We should take a break,” Wells says. “Wanna watch the new Captain America movie?”
“Really, dude?”
Wells throws a pillow at his face. “Hey, don’t insult Captain America.”
When they sit together on Bellamy’s bed, the laptop on their laps, Wells’ shoulder warm against him, Bellamy thinks it’s enough. Wells doesn’t deserve the crap Bellamy usually pulls with the others. Wells doesn’t deserve him. So he’s just going to sit next to him and watch his face instead of the movie and tells himself this is all he’s allowed.
The months slowly pass. Snow envelopes the campus, hot cocoa is being traded in hallways, people are complaining about their aching feet. It feels like the season of whining and not enough clothing. He’s not a cynic usually but he hasn’t enjoyed winter and Christmas since his mom died so he tries not to participate much in it. He’s already booked Octavia for a boring and traditional Christmas day back home before she leaves to be with Lincoln and his family in East Jesus Nowhere and he’s honestly fine with it until Wells, Clarke and Raven barge into his room and invite him to a Christmas party.
“Obnoxious winter sweaters are required, Blake,” Raven says.
“I don’t even think I have an obnoxious winter sweater,” Bellamy says.
Wells shakes his head. “Man, that’s just sad.”
The next day, a package arrives for him and he opens it to find a sweater with reindeer knits and it lights up. Everyone needs an ugly Christmas sweater – Wells. What the flying fuck, Jaha.
“Jesus shit, what is that atrocity?” his roommate, Miller, asks, when he sees him get ready for the party wearing the sweater. “It literally looks like Father Christmas puked all over American Apparel.”
“Fuck off,” Bellamy says but winces when he sees himself in the mirror. “Come on, we should go. Are you ready?”
“Yeah, and unlike you, I’m wearing normal people clothes.”
They go to the bar near campus and it’s decorated head-to-toe with corny Christmas decorations. Wreaths, gingerbread people, fairy lights, the whole shebang. There aren’t a lot of people but enough people he knows. There’s Monty, Wells’ roommate, wearing a reindeer nose, with his partner, Jasper; Clarke and Raven who obviously felt above the ugly sweater rule and are wearing dresses that would make him do something douche-worthy if it weren’t Clarke and Raven; Finn apparently already drunk, dancing on a table; Roma, Diggs and Myles who are already drinking shots, Miller joining them.
“Oh my god, Blake, what the fuck are you wearing?” Raven asks.
“I feel like I’m staring into the depths of hell,” Clarke says.
“Wish I could say the same but, astonishingly, you two don’t look completely disgusting,” Bellamy says with a smile.
“Please note that I’m holding a drink right now and please know I could easily throw it on you,” Clarke says.
Bellamy laughs and kisses her and Raven on the cheek. “Duly noted, princess.”
Wells joins them then, his arm around Bellamy. “Hello, beautiful people,” he says, his breath laced with alcohol, and then pauses. “Bellamy, you’re wearing my sweater!”
“You gave him that thing?” Raven asks.
“Didn’t think he’d actually wear it.” Wells laughs, his hands all over Bellamy’s body. Man, the kid is a handsy drunk.
Bellamy pouts. “I’ll just take it off, then.”
“No,” Wells nearly shouts. “No, you look cute.”
Clarke and Raven simultaneously ‘aww’. Bellamy wants to punch them.
Wells pretty much latches onto Bellamy for the rest of the night and it’s not like he minds. He doesn’t want Wells touching anyone else like this, anyway. The party plays atrocious Christmas songs (nearly everyone jumps up and dances around to Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas) and everyone drinks shots. There are mistletoes and kisses, eggnog and cookies, people who call him friend and Wells, who smells like cinnamon.
Bellamy isn’t going to lie –it’s a good night.
Months bleed into each other. His days are muddled with his job working at the student store, assignments, periodically sleeping and, miraculously, hangout sessions with people he actually likes.
Octavia even visits more often because she misses him and he’s glad for it, for her.
Through all this time, he finds himself being Wells’ second to everything. To parties or lunch dates, movie nights and the like. It’s always the same gang –Clarke, Raven, Miller, Monty and Jasper- with a few additions sometimes and Bellamy never thought of himself as someone who’d have a gang. He’s so grateful for them, revels in their company. The first year of his college life was spent adjusting and worrying about Octavia back home but now, it actually feels like he’s part of something.
He plays video games with Monty and Jasper, spends so much time with Clarke and Raven that people are beginning to think he’s their shared boyfriend and squeezes whatever time he has left for Wells.
Wells drags him to charity events, concert shows and plays, tells him he needs to broaden his worldview because, “You can’t just study history, you have to be part of it, Bellamy.” But, in turn, Wells lets Bellamy talk his ear off for hours, talking about Augustus and Caesar, tells him about his favourite myths and, the thing is, Wells never gets bored. He prods some more and asks, “And then what happened?” and sits through dozens of documentaries without one complaint.
Bellamy doesn’t let himself think about it –about this gnawing, growing feeling in his gut. If he thinks about it and admits to himself that he wonders what Wells might taste like or how he might look like spread out in a proper bed or how he’d look early in the morning after –well, then it would be real. Bellamy's never been good with reality.
Wells storms into his room one day. It sends Miller into a fit of high-pitched screaming.
“Can I stay here tonight?” Wells asks.
Bellamy asks. “Sure. But what’s up with your room?”
“Monty has been keeping me up with his late night shenanigans and I have an early morning tomorrow. Got a meeting for the food drive.”
“Late night shenanigans? Isn’t Monty ace?” Bellamy asks, as Wells squishes into his space, pressing close to him on his bed.
“Oh, I’m not talking about sex, I’m talking about Dragon Age. He and Jasper have been playing that game for days and it’s almost as bad as if they were having sex. There are…a lot of noises.”
“Gross,” Bellamy says. “How’s that going anyway? The food drive thing?”
“Horrible. Not enough volunteers. I mean, I expected as much but it just sucks.”
“What if I volunteer?” Bellamy asks.
Wells’ face absolutely lights up. “Really?”
“Yeah, sure, I mean, I’m not doing anything next week except rewatching Blade Runner for the thousandth time and I’m sure Miller would love to-”
“Nope,” Miller says quickly.
“Okay, so Miller would not love to but I would. Just tell me the details.”
Later, much later, after Chinese takeout and binge watching Gilmore Girls, when Wells is fast asleep in his bed, wearing his t-shirt and sweatpants and looking cute as all hell, Miller laughs at him as Bellamy puts a blanket on Wells.
“What?” Bellamy asks.
“Nothing, man. I’ve just never seen you work this hard to get laid before.”
“I’m not trying to get laid,” Bellamy says.
“Oh, man,” Miller says sympathetically, hand on his shoulder. “Sorry ‘bout that.”
Bellamy buys Wells a pair of noise cancelling headphones the second his paycheck from the student store comes through.
Miller makes a fake vomiting sound when he sees Bellamy wrapping it in elephant (Wells’ favourite animal) wrapping paper.
Everyone’s secretly in love with Wells Jaha. That’s literally the only explanation to the amount of people Wells’ managed to wrangle into volunteering for the food drive. Clarke, of course, and Raven, who looks like she hasn’t slept for two days but smiles at Wells like it’s nothing. Monty and Jasper are handing out cookies and laughter. There’s even Lincoln and Anya (who is sufficiently terrifying) and some other seniors.
“Liar,” Bellamy says when Wells takes a break with him.
“What?” Wells asks.
“You said there weren’t enough volunteers. Was this just a ploy to get me to do charity work?”
“Well, you do need to do more charity work but, honestly, no, I just told Monty, who obviously told Jasper and Raven, and so on and so forth and I know Lincoln and Anya from taekwondo, didn’t know it was the same Lincoln who’s with Octavia.” Wells shrugs.
“Man, you’re something wonderful, you know that?” Bellamy says, completely discarding his brain-to-mouth filter. Wells is, though. He’s spent six months just affirming and reaffirming that fact. Bellamy never thought he’d be the pining kind.
Wells blushes. “Thanks. But it still doesn’t feel enough.”
“You do enough. More than enough. You’ve probably saved dozens of people from starvation from this shindig alone. What else do you have to prove?’
“I dunno. I just –my father’s a hardass, you know? But he’s a good man but he’s a man who had to make impossible decisions. He had to lay off hundreds of people in his company just so it could survive and I know maybe there wasn’t a choice, maybe it was inevitable, all those people being forced out of their jobs like that but it doesn’t mean I can’t help some of them along the way. I mean, I love doing what I do but, you know.” Wells laughs weakly. “Sins of the father and all that.”
“You don’t have to prove anything, Wells. You’re not just your father’s son. You’re your own person.”
Wells looks at him now and his eyes are oceans, Bellamy can’t read them. Doesn’t even know if he wants to. Bellamy isn’t good at talking –even less if someone asks him something personal like his lack of parents or stable relationships besides Octavia. But he just wants to tell Wells everything, wants him to know the monster living inside him and wants to see if Wells will still look at him the same in the morning.
“Bellamy,” Wells says, soft but stern. He holds Bellamy’s hand, doesn’t even care if anyone else sees because that’s who Wells is –open gestures of kindness that hold no room for shame or doubt or prejudice. “You’re a good person. I think someone needs to tell you that every once in a while.”
Bellamy fake groans. “Does it need to be you?”
“Ass,” Wells says but doesn’t let go of his hand.
It’s that scary quiet time of semester where everyone has left, except for the unfortunate souls who have a weekend final which, this time, includes Bellamy Blake. He’s already said goodbye to most of his friends –even Miller’s left so his room is quiet at night. Most of his stuff is already packed, ready for Octavia to pick him up the day after his final so now he’s just bored. The only consolation is that Wells is one of the poor people who have a weekend final.
“I just want it to be over,” Wells complains, slamming his face down on his textbook.
“Don’t worry about anything, man. You’re already a genius,” Bellamy says, handing up a cup of coffee. “You’ll do fine.”
“You have to say that, you’re my friend.”
“I’m also brutally honest. So, chin up,” Bellamy says. “When’re you going home?”
“Dad’s picking me up in two days. You too, right? Hey, you can finally meet my dad. I told him lots about you.”
He’s heard Wells’ stories about his father and they all make it seem like Thelonius Jaha is not someone Bellamy would likely impress.
“Why?” Bellamy asks.
“Because you’re an important person in my life.” Wells says it so casually it’s scary.
There’s a comfortable silence around them for a while, just the sounds of the 1975 playing from Bellamy’s laptop and the breeze coming through the window.
“Hey, Bel,” Wells says. No one else but Octavia calls him Bel, no one else he’d let do that.
“Yeah, Wells,” Bellamy says absent-mindedly but he looks up and sees Wells dead serious with his ‘the world is crooked but I want to fix it’ face. “What?”
“I like you.”
Uncomfortable silence. Then Bellamy asks –because this doesn’t make sense- “What?”
“I mean, I’m not expecting anything. I’m really not because you’re you and you don’t really have relationships and I respect your lifestyle choice and stuff ‘cause, hey, you might be aromantic and that’s fine but I just –I like you. I’ve liked you for a while. And I know even if you weren’t aromantic, you’d probably never go for a guy like me but-”
“Who said that?” Bellamy asks.
Now it’s Wells’ turn to say, “What?”
“Who said I’d never go for a guy like you? Because I would. Because I am going to. I’m just –god, I’m horrible but I’m not aromantic and fuck it, I like you. You’re kind of the most wonderful, Wells Jaha, and I’m stupid for you.”
“You’re so-” Wells throws up his hands. “God, you’re dumb. How do you even function?”
“Yeah, I am. You gonna kiss me to stop my stupid? You know, for the sake of society.”
Wells –ever the considerate member of society- does. He tastes like goodness and chocolate chip cookies and he’s handsy even when he’s not drunk. Fingers ghosting across his sides and a hand around his waist and he’s so warm. And oh –oh, he’s not going to get any studying done but fuck who cares anymore. He has Wells Jaha here with him and the world is good.
Bellamy kisses him back, hard. Wells -honest to god- moans and Bellamy nearly faints right there.
He gets used to Octavia squealing and clapping whenever she sees him and Wells together.