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Knock knock knock.
Bellamy turned sleepy eyes towards the door, squinting in confusion. After a moment, the sound came again, a faster rap of knuckles. Knockknockknock.
“Bell it’s me, open up!” Clarke’s voice floated through, a tad nervous. And also far more awake than he’d ever expected.
He checked the clock. 8:02a.m. Definitely an irregularity for her to be awake at this hour on a Saturday. But the urgency in her voice had him moving to the door and swinging it open in seconds, even though he was clad in only sweatpants.
She, on the other hand, was fully dressed, down to her brushed out golden hair and extra touch of pink on her lips. Behind her, her apartment door was thrown wide open, as if she’d rushed over.
“I need a favor,” she said immediately, and his eyebrows lifted.
He’d just stuttered out a confused “Okay?” when a man’s voice sounded from inside her apartment.
“Clarke, sweetheart, you ready to-?”
Bellamy didn’t register the rest of the sentence, because then Clarke kissed him.
Seeing as he was a dude and absolutely not immune to her whatsoever, he immediately responded in kind, tangling a hand into her hair and angling her head so he could kiss her more deeply before he even realized what he was doing. And by the time he did realize it, she’d wound her arms around his neck and risen to her tiptoes, half pushing him against the doorframe.
Her lips were soft. Ridiculously soft. And yet, persistent and eager and impossible to resist - quite like her.
As quickly as it started, it stopped. Clarke pulled back with a bright shade of pink on her cheeks that matched her lips - a sight he could most definitely get used to. It was accompanied by an embarrassed little giggle that he’d definitely never heard before. When he finally dragged his eyes away from her, it was only to stare at the older man who now stood in her doorway.
“Sorry dad,” Clarke smiled sheepishly and leaned against him. Her voice was more than a little breathless, and yeah, his chest puffed out a bit more, his brain not having caught up with her words quite yet. “Got a little distracted.”
The man - Clarke’s dad, holy god - only laughed, apparently unconcerned with his daughter kissing half-naked boys in the hall. “So this must be Bellamy!” He reached out a long arm. “I’m Jake Griffin, good to meet you.”
After a dazed moment, Bellamy grasped it and shook as firmly as he could, swallowing his nerves. “Hello, sir. Nice to meet you as well.” I think.
“None of that sir crap,” the other man grinned. “Call me Jake, I insist. It’s the least I can do for the first boyfriend Clarke’s ever let me meet in person.”
Boyfriend? Bellamy looked expectantly at the girl in his arms, who was currently blushing and avoiding his gaze. Goddamn, she was adorable when she was nervous. He did what came naturally, tucking her hair behind her ear and leaning down to peck her cheek.
“Can’t say I’m not flattered as well,” he gripped her waist a little harder, smiling when her mouth formed a little o. God, he wanted to kiss her again already.
Then he noticed his current state and gulped. “Ah, sorry… I, um, I woke up early to finish some lesson plans and haven’t really cleaned up yet. Clarke sort of caught me off guard.”
Understatement of the year.
Her father chuckled. “She has a habit of doing that, doesn’t she? Don’t worry about it. Though I must say, lesson plans on a Saturday sounds awfully boring.”
Bellamy grinned. “Boring, but necessary. Sometimes it’s easier to kick that stuff out of the way early in the day so I can actually enjoy my weekend.”
Clarke released him then, and he was honestly a bit put out by it. Reluctantly, he withdrew his arm from her shoulder. But she hung onto his hand a moment longer. “I just came to say hi. I’m taking dad to breakfast at that little diner in Old City and then we’re going to wander a bit. So maybe I’ll see you tonight?”
Tonight. What was tonight? Hell if he knew. But her eyes were pleading with him, so he nodded anyways, like he understood. For good measure, he yanked her close and planted his mouth on hers one last time.
“I’ll miss you,” he said, satisfied with her flushed expression.
“R-right. You too,” she squeaked, then grabbed her dad’s arm and tugged him down the stairs. A small smile played on his face as he watched them go, having been dragged up and down those very stairs by Clarke plenty of times.
He was still grinning to himself when, in the midst of making coffee, his phone buzzed. It was Clarke.
I owe you.
He tapped out a quick reply. Yes you do. How long is he here?
The whole weekend.
Get ready to pay up princess.
Little did she know that his idea of payment did not involve money whatsoever.
~~~~~~~~
With Miller off visiting his boyfriend’s parents on the west coast, Bellamy had the apartment to himself this weekend. He spent the remainder of the day split between lesson plans, laundry, and the thought of Clarke warm and willing in his arms. Altogether it was decidedly unproductive, though, he couldn’t really care a single bit about that.
When he heard familiar footsteps hopping up the stairs outside, he turned towards the door, hopeful despite himself. To his delight, a quick knock sounded moments later.
“Bellamy?” Clarke’s tentative voice floated through.
“Yeah, coming!” He dropped the oven mitts on the counter next to the stack of half-graded research papers. Swinging the door open, he grinned at the sight of Clarke’s hesitant expression. “Hello.” He reached out and gathered her into his arms, lightly pecking her cheek. “How was your day?”
“F-fine. We..." Watching her pause to swallow, he was maybe a bit too pleased with the effect he was having. "We went to Penn’s Landing for lunch and then wandered around Independence Hall for a while.” Her arms slid around him easily. “Tomorrow I think we’re going to head to the museums in Logan Square.”
He couldn’t help but perk up. “Really?”
She nodded, fighting a grin. “Dad’s idea. He thought you might be more willing to come, since you’re such a nerd.”
“Your nerd,” Bellamy retorted, a little too happy. Then he smiled genuinely at her dad, who was watching them fondly. “Of course I’ll join you. Thanks for thinking of me.”
“I wasn’t gonna leave without spending at least a day with my daughter’s boyfriend,” her dad replied. Bellamy's grin widened. Shit, he could really get used to being called that. Then Jake sniffed the air curiously. “Smells amazing in here. Don’t tell me you cook, too.”
Clarke interrupted before he could answer. “All the time. Bell practically lives in the kitchen when he’s not in the classroom.” The affection in her voice certainly sounded real enough. It made him hold her a little tighter.
“Someone’s gotta save her from all those takeout menus.” She poked him in reply, but still didn’t let go. To her dad, he explained, “It was just me and my sister when we were younger, so I learned to cook pretty fast. A lot of burnt dishes at first, but, that’s how you learn I guess.”
“It is indeed. Any chance you’ve got room for two more?” Jake asked.
“Oh, dad no, don’t-”
Bellamy clamped a hand over Clarke’s mouth. “Of course, there’s plenty. Come on in!” He swept an arm out and stepped to the side, taking Clarke with him in the process. Her hand came up to remove his, though she remained silent.
“Mind if I use the restroom real quick?” The other man asked.
“Down the hall, to your left.”
As soon as her dad was out of sight, Bellamy turned and proceeded to plant a long kiss on Clarke that left her clinging to his neck for a moment longer.
“Hi princess,” he whispered.
“Hi,” she breathed. “Wh-what…” She licked her lips, which only made him dive back in for another kiss. Clarke hummed into his mouth, her hands nearly twisting into his hair before she seemed to remember herself. With a squeak, she shoved at his chest, putting the table between them as she caught her breath.
“What are you doing?” She hissed.
He grinned and folded his arms. “Collecting my payment.”
Her eyebrows shot up in realization. “Bell-”
Jake chose that moment to reemerge, and Bellamy took advantage of the distraction to wind his arms around Clarke once more, drawing her back against his chest. “Relax,” he murmured into her hair. “I got you.”
After a moment, he felt her limbs loosen up as she sank into him, and fuck if that wasn’t something he wanted to feel for the rest of his life.
“So what’ve you got cooking today?” Her father asked, peeking through the small window into the oven.
Bellamy grinned and kissed the top of Clarke’s head before walking over. “Lasagna. It takes a while to prep, but it’s totally worth it. Plus, it means leftovers for days.” Okay, yeah, he was maybe showing off a little, but whatever. Any boyfriend would have done the same…
Clarke’s arms curled around his waist at that moment, erasing all thought aside from her soft body pressed up against his back. She rose to her tiptoes and peeked over his shoulder. “I have a huge loaf of bread in my apartment. Want some garlic bread to go with it?”
“Is your oven fixed yet?” He asked. Absently, his fingers traced patterns along her arm, delighted when he realized she had goosebumps.
“Mhmm, maintenance came by on Wednesday while I was at work. I just made baked mac and cheese last night.”
He smiled and turned to wink at her. “Of course you did.”
She stuck out her tongue before swiftly kissing his cheek. “Come on. I think you left all your spices in my cabinets the last time we made dinner.” Lies. They had cooked together, but he was meticulous about keeping his ingredients with him; she had a tendency to just dump things in without measuring.
Despite that, he let Clarke tug him with her anyways. “Dad, we’ll be right back,” she called.
Feeling cheeky, Bellamy waited until they were in the hall, then crowded her against her door, hands on her hips. Nudging aside her hair, he dropped a gentle kiss on the column of her neck, hearing her sharp intake of breath. Her hands shook as she tried to fit the key in the lock. So he did it again.
“Bell,” she protested weakly.
Smiling, he stepped back a little. As soon as they were inside, she shoved him back against the door a little harder than necessary. “Are you insane?” She was whisper-shouting, and it was adorable.
“Hey, hey.” Bellamy held his hands up in surrender. “I’m just trying to be a good boyfriend. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Clarke stomped her foot, looking like such a put-out child that he nearly laughed. Then she covered her flushed face and dropped onto the couch with a sigh. Immediately he pushed away from the door and sat beside her, draping an arm over her shoulders.
“Hey, Clarke, come on. I was just teasing.” Mostly.
“It’s not that,” she muttered. “I just… I hate lying to my dad, you know?”
“Then why are you?”
Another sigh. “He worries about me. Says I’m too focused on work and too private for my own good. I know he just wants what’s best for me, but it’s not so easy for me to just go out and… pick a tribute, or something.”
Despite himself, Bellamy snorted. “What, you think getting someone to be your boyfriend is akin to volunteering for the Hunger Games?”
“Shut up,” she grumbled. “You know what I mean. Isn’t that why you only ever have women over for the night?”
“Hey, I haven’t done that for months now,” he scolded lightly, and she tipped her head in acknowledgement. “But yeah. I know what you mean. Dating sucks.” Especially when you’re half in love with your next-door neighbor. Who doesn’t even know it.
Not liking her frown, he tilted her chin up until she met his gaze. “Look, it’s just one more day. And you said it yourself, he worries. So we’ll make him not worry until he leaves, and then you can just tell him later on that we broke up, all amicable and whatnot.”
A corner of her mouth lifted. “Three years, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say whatnot.”
He tweaked her nose. “First time for everything, princess.” Standing, he held out a hand. “Now come on, let’s get the bread before he busts in here thinking we decided to have a quickie.”
Clarke reddened and knocked his hand away, but he caught her around the waist for a kiss all the same. He could have sworn her fingers flirted at the hem of his shirt, and he couldn't quite help his soft groan at the feeling of her nails on his waist. Breathing heavily, Clarke pulled away.
“You're the worst,” she retorted, rather delayed. Bellamy smirked. Even by her standards, the words had had no bite.
When they returned to his place, her dad was examining the picture frames he had on his end tables that flanked the couch. “Quite the photographer, are you?” Jake asked.
Clarke snickered, to which Bellamy gave her a light pinch at the hip before responding. “No, actually, my sister’s boyfriend - ah, sorry, right, fiancé,” he corrected at Clarke’s elbow, “her fiancé is a photographer by trade. He’s always snapping pictures left and right. I figured it’d be a crime not to showcase them somewhere.”
The photo Jake was now studying was one of Bellamy's favorites. It was just him and Clarke, the two of them standing under his blue and white striped umbrella. As usual, he was only kind-of smiling, but most of his amusement had stemmed from the silly faces Clarke had been making at the camera in an attempt get a real smile out of him. That was about as close as she’d gotten that day.
They sat down to dinner at the small but sturdy kitchen table he and Miller had dragged upstairs after finding it on the street with the sign Free if you want to carry it. In his opinion, it had been totally worth it, even if they had strained a muscle. Or four.
Clarke kept the conversation going pretty easily, though Bellamy found he didn’t really have to lie to her dad at all when he asked the standard questions. After all, they were close friends and had lived across the hall from each other for years. Bellamy knew her almost as well as he knew himself by this point. It was easy to see the warm affection she had for her father. Now that he could put a face to all her stories, he understood why this man always featured more prominently instead of her mother. At first sight, the two didn't look that much alike, but after spending just a few moments in their company, it was easy to see the familiar crease in their brows, the twinkle of the eye, the flailing hands and mannerisms that were all so very Clarke. A smile stamped itself across his face throughout the meal because of it.
He thought he caught Clarke watching him rather closely, but instead of being nervous, she almost looked relaxed. Like introducing him to her father was exactly what she’d intended all along.
It was all too easy to pretend that this could be real.
~~~~~~~~
Bellamy was lounging on the couch later that night when there was a quiet tap at his door. Puzzled, he glanced up over the book propped up on his chest. “Yeah?”
“It’s me.” Clarke answered meekly.
Scrambling up, he yanked the door open to find Clarke in a hoodie and sweats, curly strands of hair escaping her messy braid. God, she was beautiful. Was he allowed to kiss her even though no one was watching? Jesus, shut up.
“Hey princess." He hoped his voice sounded normal. "Wasn't expecting you tonight, with your dad and everything..." Not that I'm complaining.
She waved a hand in dismissal. "He's been out like a light since nine. Wouldn't know if an earthquake hit. Me on the other hand, I can't seem to fall asleep at all,” she mumbled, shifting from foot to foot. Bellamy smiled and grasped her elbow to pull her inside.
“Which documentary you wanna watch tonight? The Romans again? Or the archeological dig? Actually I think I recorded something about the Mayans last week…”
Grinning, Clarke curled herself onto the couch, snagging the thick blue blanket she’d long ago claimed as hers. “Nerd. You pick.”
He decided on the Mayans, then sat down next to her, stretching his legs out on the coffee table with a sigh. He was so comfortable sitting next to her like this, half watching the TV but mostly just enjoying her presence. Without realizing it, he sank further into the cushions. Inches from her shoulder, his head began to droop a little. After the third time he snapped up, she chuckled softly and nudged him, letting him know it was okay.
As he drifted into sleep surrounded by the smell of jasmine from her perfume, she quietly said, “Thank you, Bellamy.”
“Anytime,” he said, or hoped he did, because he was already asleep.
He woke in the dark to movement under his head. Drowsily, he clutched at his pillow, murmuring in protest. Then a soft laugh reached his ears, and his eyes flew open to meet Clarke’s amused gaze. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I need to get back before dad wakes up.”
“Oh.” He blinked and removed his arm where it was banded around her waist. “Right, yeah, uh- sorry. Go ahead.”
She grinned, and then, so swift he swore he’d imagined it, leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. “Thanks, boyfriend,” she said.
Bellamy was still smiling foolishly when he fell asleep again.
~~~~~~~~
When he finally awoke to the light streaming into the living room window, he groaned and stretched, knowing his back was going to be protesting for sleeping on the couch again.
Totally worth it, replied the rest of his body, his heart loudest of all.
He managed to shower and pull on fresh clothes right before a knock sounded at the door. Clarke and her father stood outside. “We’re kidnapping you,” Clarke informed him cheerily. “No more work for today.”
“Whatever you say, princess.”
They stopped at the coffee shop around the corner for breakfast, and Bellamy did his best not to grin as the owner grabbed him and Clarke in a bear hug when he learned of their “relationship.”
“We’ve known him since we moved in,” a beet-red Clarke later explained to her dad. “We’d stop here in the mornings on our way to work whenever we were running late.”
“Which was a lot, because of this one,” Bellamy jabbed his thumb in her direction, only to have her kiss his finger and nearly make him collide with a stranger on the street. He narrowly avoided spilling his coffee, hastily apologizing to the wide-eyed lady. When Clarke’s laugh tinkled in the air, he knew for certain he was a goner.
They headed for the museum district, sitting by the fountains and munching on their lunch-truck bagels in the early autumn morning. Then Clarke proceeded to traipse them throughout the huge art museum, and even though he’d come with her many times, he never got tired of watching her light up like a kid in a candy store, her face glowing as she practically bounced from room to room.
When they finally exited onto the stone steps outside the building, Clarke turned to him. “Bonnie’s Bistro?”
“The one and only,” he agreed.
“Alright. I’ll run over and get the order. I know, I know chicken salad, extra pickles, no mayo. Dad, what do you want?” She tapped his request into her phone and then waved, backing away down the steps. “Be nice, both of you.” She wagged a warning finger.
Bellamy grinned, trying and failing not to watch her hips sway as she walked down the street. Hearing a grunt next to him, he turned to see her dad sit down on the steps with a sigh.
“I should have warned you. She gets pretty excited about this place. Insists on seeing pretty much everything all at once, it can wear you out if-”
Jake held up a hand. “Alright, you can cut it out, son. She can’t hear us now.”
Bellamy froze, then swiveled to look at the other man. “E-excuse me?”
Her father lifted an eyebrow. “How dumb do you think I am? I know my daughter better than anyone. Or so I thought, ‘til I met you.” He frowned for a brief moment, though the words made Bellamy straighten a little all the same. Then he said, “Look. I know you’re not together, alright?”
Oh, fuck.
“Clarke hates PDA and frankly she’s never been excited to introduce me to anyone. I know she’s just faking it to make me stop worrying,” Jake continued.
“I… uh…” fuck fuck fuck I’m about to get my ass kicked--
“I’m her dad, though. I’ll never stop worrying. It’s part of being a parent.”
Bellamy nodded dumbly, wondering just how deep in shit he was.
“But you’re not faking it, are you?”
Deep. Six feet under deep.
The words made his heart flail wildly. “You’re in love with my daughter,” Jake repeated firmly. It wasn’t a question. Bellamy gaped stupidly, his mouth opening and closing without a word.
Further shocking him, Jake merely chuckled and nodded knowingly. “Thought so. It’s written all over your face, son.”
He considered denying it, then decided he at least owed the man that much. Sheepishly, he rubbed his neck. “Yeah. I am.” After a moment, he added, “But I don’t think she feels the same.”
The older man gave him a look he’d seen on Clarke’s face a thousand times before - one that told him he was a complete idiot.
“Really? Because I just watched her pick out each of your favorite works of art in the entire building, spent the majority of yesterday listening to her go on about how much you love the historical district and repeating all the quote nerdy facts you've told her, and she seems to have pinned every one of your likes and dislikes, down to what you like on a sandwich.” Jake clapped his shoulder. “Trust me. My daughter’s in love, whether she knows it or not.”
Though Bellamy badly wanted to believe him, he was also kind of terrified to hope - for both their sakes. “Still… I’m not sure it’s in the cards, sir.”
“Then stack the deck!” her dad answered. “Lie! Cheat! I want grandkids before I die and I want them to grow up in a proper home. From what I’ve seen, my girl’s made a home for herself here and that includes you. All I’m asking is that you don’t give up on her just yet.”
Stunned, he was struck speechless again for a long moment. “I… I’ll do my best,” he finally managed. It was the most he could promise right now. He didn’t want to lose her friendship in the process of trying for something more.
It seemed to satisfy her dad though, judging by his nod of approval. “Good.”
Then Clarke reappeared at the bottom of the steps, holding a tray of coffee in one hand and a bag in the other. He jumped up, hurrying down to take the coffee from her. After handing a wrapped sandwich to her dad, she glanced apologetically at Bellamy.
“They were out of chicken salad, sorry. I got you an Italian instead, you liked it last time, right?” At his nod, she brightened. “Aaaandd," digging around, she finally produced a square box and brandished it triumphantly. "I managed to snag your favorite strawberry cheesecake for dessert!"
He stared half a second too long, making her brows draw together. Recovering, he swallowed and forced himself to smile, wrapping her in a hug, bag and all. “Thanks, princess.”
Ever observant, Clarke rose to her tiptoes and wound her arms around him, burying her nose into his shirt for a second. “You okay?” she whispered into his ear.
Over her head, he looked at her dad, who winked.
Bellamy grinned, his heart fluttering in his chest. “Yeah,” he sighed happily. “I’m great.”
~~~~~~~~
A year later, Bellamy yanked on his jeans and answered the door, yawning. “Finally, how long does pizza take-”
He cut off mid-stream, his jaw hanging open at the sight of Mr. and Mrs. Griffin standing outside their daughter’s apartment door.
“Bell?” Clarke’s voice sounded from the hall, and then she shuffled up behind him, clad in only his large hoodie and very little else. “Please tell me that’s-” She yelped, eyes widening, and hid behind him. “Mom! Dad!”
Jake burst into laughter as Bellamy put his head in his hands.
When they’d both put on proper clothes and meekly invited her parents to dinner after canceling the pizza, Jake pulled him aside. “So how’d you do it?” He asked.
Bellamy shrugged and grinned. “Stacked the deck.”
Her dad chortled and cuffed his head. “Atta boy.”