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So getting drunk on a Tuesday isn’t the best decision that Clarke’s ever made. But it’s her last semester of college, she got into the med school of her choice, and who can say no to $1 tacos and $2 Corona’s. Letting Raven and Octavia talk her into a game of Truth or Dare is definitely one of the worst decisions that Clarke’s made (and she once streaked through the library at 8am in the morning for no other reason than to win a beer).
Playing Truth or Dare with Octavia and Raven always amounts to some nudity. They wouldn’t be Raven and Octavia if there wasn’t an innuendo behind nearly every word out of their mouths. Frankly, between the three of them Clarke’s surprised none of them have wound up being arrested for public indecency.
Their Truth or Dare game begins innocently enough. There are some truths revealed about Raven’s pornography of choice, Octavia’s kinky side, and Clarke’s experience with sex toys. It’s not until Raven’s broken into the handle of ‘emergency whiskey’ in Octavia’s backpack that things start getting a little out of hand.
The whiskey convinces Clarke that it is a great idea to ask for a Dare instead of a Truth. Sober Clarke knows better. Sober Clarke knows exactly how devious Raven and Octavia are.
“We dare you-“ Raven can’t finish before she collapses into a fit of drinking induced giggles.
With Raven still giggling into her side, Octavia says, “we dare you to ring the doorbell and moon the neighbors across the street."
“Really? That’s all?” Clarke asks, “easy peasy"
Clarke heads off the co-op porch at a slight jog. She rings the doorbell and turns around with her hands on her belt loops ready to pull her pants down. When she hears the click of the lock, Clarke easily pulls her pants off her ass. She peeks through her legs to see who she’s mooning.
It’s a woman. A very attractive woman.
Clarke tries to run away, forgetting that her pants are not completely on her ass. She trips forward and her face hits the ground first.
“Shit."
The woman has moved from her doorway and stands over Clarke with her eyebrows furrowed in concern.
“Are you okay?” she asks, holding her hand out for Clarke to take.
Clarke flushes as she stands up and pulls her pants back up, “embarrassed, mostly-"
“Your forehead is bleeding. Do you want a bandaid?” the woman interrupts, reaching out to Clarke’s face for a second before catching herself and letting her hand drop to her side.
“It’s fine, I’m fine. I live across the street,” Clarke answers, pointing over her shoulder with her thumb, “which- is where I’m going now."
The woman nods, her eyebrows still furrowed with worry. Clarke makes sure her pants are buttoned before slowly backing down the driveway. She holds her hand up in a stiff wave which the woman returns.
When Clarke has crossed back to her side of the street, she finds Raven and Octavia are howling in laughter on the porch. Raven is clutching her sides, doubled over, and gasping for breaths between fits of laughter. Octavia is in tears and every time she tries to say something, only laughter comes out.
“You guys suck,” Clarke grumbles, “you totally knew she was hot didn’t you."
Raven sobers up immediately, “wait. Don’t you know who that is?"
Clarke shakes her head and tries to rack her mind for any clues, “should I?"
“That’s Lexa Woods. She is the heir to Infinite Loop Industries,” Raven answers, no longer laughing.
Clarke shrugs. She’s heard of the company before, who hasn’t, they revolutionized the phone world with cutting edge AI and specialized microchips. But Lexa Woods isn’t a name that rings any bells.
“I can’t believe you don’t know who she is. She’ll be the youngest Fortune 500 CEO since Zuckerberg when she takes over,” Octavia jumps in.
Raven nods and adds, “I heard she was going back to school to get her degree. Didn’t realize she was coming here."
“So I just mooned the heir to the biggest tech company?” Clarke clarifies, her mortification growing by the second.
Raven collapses into giggles again. Octavia nods with a smile. Clarke picks up her abandoned beer and chugs the rest, hoping to at least get drunk enough to forget her embarrassment.
“I can’t believe I’m friends with you two,” Clarke shakes her head as she picks up the empty bottles strewn around the porch and heads back inside.
“Don’t be like that Clarkey!” Raven shouts after her.
Clarke pokes her hand through the gap between the door and the doorframe to give Raven the finger.
//
It takes two weeks for Clarke to pluck up the courage to apologize. Rather, it takes two weeks for Clarke to bake a batch of brownies that are edible so that she can bring them over to Lexa as an apology. Clarke waits for Lexa to come home and as soon as she sees a car pull up in the driveway across the street and Lexa gets out, Clarke grabs the tray of brownies and heads over.
She can be confident and smooth. Clarke knows she’s usually cool. It’s how she won every ‘phone number gathering’ contest she’s ever played with Raven and Octavia. She can do cool in her sleep.
“Hi!” Clarke all but shouts with an enthusiastic wave.
(She can’t play it cool with Lexa.)
“Hi-“ Lexa says, eying Clarke warily, “you’re not going to moon me again are you?"
Clarke turns red instantly and tries to divert Lexa’s attention to the tray in her hands, “I brought brownies, as an apology. For mooning you."
“That’s thoughtful-“ Lexa reaches out to take the tray.
Clarke watches as Lexa lifts the foil covering the brownies to grab a piece. It causes instant panic. Clarke didn’t think Lexa would actually try eating the brownies and certainly not in front of Clarke.
“I wouldn’t-“ Clarke stops as Lexa takes a bite of the brownie. Lexa sputters almost immediately.
“Do these have salt in them?” Lexa asks after choking down a single bite.
Clarke winces, “they’re more brownies for show?"
At that, Lexa raises an eyebrow, “you baked me apology brownies for show?"
“Yes?” Clarke answers, “I’ve never really baked before. My parents banned me from the kitchen. I might have set a pot or two on fire."
(Lexa definitely doesn’t think she’s smooth or cool.)
“Right,” Lexa says slowly.
“My friends dared me to do it,” Clarke rushes out in an attempt to salvage the situation.
Lexa looks even more confused, “to use salt in brownies?"
“To moon you,” Clarke clarifies, “we were playing Truth or Dare."
At Lexa’s blank look, Clarke continues, “you know, you choose to either tell a truth or do a dare and if you don’t you take a shot."
“I’ve never played,” Lexa responds with a shake of her head.
“I could show you sometime?” Clarke suggests with far too much hope in her voice.
“Maybe,” Lexa answers (in a way that really sounds like no) as she unlocks her front door, “thanks for the apology brownies-"
Clarke sticks out her hand, “Clarke. Clarke Griffin."
Lexa takes her hand and gives it a firm shake, “I’m Lexa."
“See you around Lexa."
With a final nod, Lexa closes her front door and Clarke slumps. Her apology could have gone so much better. She’s not sure exactly what went wrong. It’s not like Clarke hasn’t been able to talk to pretty girls. Clarke’s been able to successfully flirt and talk with plenty of pretty girls. But tonight, in front of Lexa, every flirty line, every ounce of cool evaporated from Clarke’s body.
//
“So you gave her salty, inedible brownies?” Raven asks again.
Clarke groans, “shut up Raven. It’s not like you could do better."
Raven looks downright gleeful with this new information, “this is too great."
“I’m glad my pain is a source of enjoyment for you,” Clarke says with an eye roll.
Raven chuckles to herself, “I can’t believe I ever thought you had game."
“Keep talking Raven. Maybe I’ll tell O about the chili pepper incident,” Clarke snaps back, staring hard at Raven.
Raven holds her gaze for a second before caving, “fine. But know that you’re killing my fun Griffin."
Clarke shakes her head and goes back to read her textbook. Raven turns back to her computer. They work in silence for a few minutes. But Clarke can’t concentrate. All she can think about is what Lexa must think of her. Instead of reading about the linguistic development of the indigenous people in the Amazon, she’s trying to think of a way to apologize to Lexa for her botched apology attempt.
“What do I do now?"
Raven sighs and swivels around in her chair, “what do you mean?"
“I mean with Lexa,” Clarke answers, trying to feign nonchalance by continuing to look down at her book.
“What else is there to do?” Raven asks. When Clarke doesn’t answer right away lets out a low whistle, “holy shit. You have a crush on her."
“A crush? What are we in middle school?” Clarke attempts to deflect. At Raven’s hard glare, Clarke reveals, “she’s just mysterious and interesting."
Raven nods, “and really fucking hot."
“And really hot,” Clarke parrots, thinking about how she saw Lexa in a long trench on a particularly rainy day. Clarke had been late to class that day because she had to watch Lexa walk down the driveway in that coat. The coat swished perfectly with every step Lexa took. It was enough for Clarke to forget that she even had a class to rush to.
“You need a change of panties there?” Raven interrupts her thoughts.
“Raven-“ Clarke warns.
Raven rolls her eyes, “fine. Fine. I don’t know. Bring her a six-pack. Can’t go wrong with that. Unless you add salt to your beer too.”
“Ha ha. You’re a regular Louie CK,” Clarke bites back, “I don’t even know why I asked you. You’ve been dating the same girl since elementary school."
Raven shrugs, “I don’t know either."
Clarke turns her attention back to her book, but her thoughts are still on Lexa. Lexa the billionaire play-girl who (according to her instagram account) takes models on dates to Monte Carlo. Lexa the heir to one of the biggest tech companies on earth. Lexa who’d began her college studies at Yale before dropping out when her parents died. Lexa who wears trench coats (and clothes in general) absurdly well.
Meanwhile Clarke is…well, Clarke. Clarke who is a good enough student to get into a top tier university and then one of the top medical schools. Clarke who has always relied more on her intuition and natural ability than studying. Clarke who has never had to actually try in her life. Clarke who drinks too much beer on Tuesdays and moons her neighbor. Clarke who can’t bake or cook to save her life.
There’s really no chance that Lexa would even look twice her way. Even before mooning her, Clarke didn’t have a chance. And Clarke is sure she doesn’t have a chance now thanks to those damned brownies.
Clarke’s brought out of her thoughts when the door swings open and Octavia flings herself onto Raven’s bed. Raven leans over to ‘greet’ her girlfriend (without any words involved). It takes them a good half a minute to resurface and for Octavia to even look her way.
“You’re thinking hard,” Octavia remarks, “is the table really that interesting?"
“Clarke’s imagining all the ways she can woo Lexa Woods,” Raven answers before Clarke can open her mouth.
“She likes boxing, kickboxing, motorcycles, and whiskey,” Octavia shrugs, “so bring her some whiskey?"
“How do you know this?"
“She’s in my Political Economy class,” Octavia reveals nonchalantly.
Clarke asks, “she is?"
Octavia nods, “yeah. And she thinks you have a hot ass."
“She does?” Clarke questions hesitantly.
Octavia shrugs, “her exact words might have been more along the lines of, ‘at least it make me vomit’-"
Clarke buries her head in her hands, “that is not the same as hot."
“Fine,” Octavia concedes, “she doesn’t think your ass is gross. That’s a positive."
“Great."
//
Clarke’s a college student, as such, the only whiskey she’s had in the last year has come out of a plastic bottle. Giving Lexa plastic bottle whiskey would be as embarrassing as baking salty brownies. Clarke pokes around the liquor store’s glass cases, looking in at the high end bottles of whiskey. The lowest priced handle costs $60. It’s not exactly in a normal college student’s budget.
(She seriously considers spending $60 for an excuse to talk to Lexa.)
As it turns out Clarke doesn’t have to think of excuses to talk to Lexa. Clarke’s headed to a potluck with some pastries she picked up at the corner store when she sees Lexa unloading her car.
“You didn’t bake those, I hope,” Lexa says in lieu of a greeting with a nod to the brownies.
“No. I bought them from the store,” Clarke answers with a short laugh, “I didn’t think my friends would appreciate being poisoned."
Lexa nods, “so you only try to poison your neighbors? I’m flattered."
Clarke groans and almost stomps her foot like a toddler, “it’s not my fault. I had no idea that butter came salted or unsalted. I thought it was all the same."
Lexa smirks a bit and Clarke’s brain short circuits. She doesn’t think before she says, “I’m headed to a potluck and my friends are much better cooks than I am. Do you want to come?"
Lexa shakes her head and looks down at her watch, “I have a video conference in about five minutes. Maybe next time."
“Sure,” Clarke answers, trying not to let the disappointment faze her.
“Have a good night Clarke."
“Yeah. You too,” Clarke responds as she watches Lexa make her way inside.
//
After that, Clarke starts seeing Lexa around a lot more. She sees Lexa walking across campus between classes. She sees Lexa mowing the lawn in a tank top that shows off multiple tattoos. She sees Lexa ride her motorcycle on the weekends.
(Clarke had great dreams for the rest of the week.)
One evening, a particularly rainy Tuesday, Clarke decides to venture down to the library. The stacks are scarily quiet and unfamiliar, but Clarke finds Lexa in the library and sits down at the open seat across from her. Lexa looks up, startled, but smiles when she sees it’s Clarke. Clarke smiles back and Lexa returns to her studying.
In four years, Clarke has never spent more than a half hour in the confines of the library. She’s never really needed to. But getting to look up from her homework and watch Lexa silently sound things out for her Russian Lit class is enough to keep Clarke at the library for a full four hours. She only leaves because Lexa starts packing up to go.
“Did you get much studying done?” Lexa asks as soon as they’re out of the stifling silence of the library.
“I got some of my Anthropology assignments done,” Clarke answers with a smile.
It’s not a lie. She’s done more reading for the class tonight than she has in the last month since the semester started. If she’d been able to read three sentences without looking up, Clarke’s pretty sure she could have actually caught up on her reading.
“That’s good. Is that what you’re majoring in?” Lexa asks.
Clarke shakes her head, “oh no. I majored in Molecular and Cell Biology. I’m going to med school in the fall."
“Wow,” Lexa says, eyes wide with admiration, “I didn’t-"
“expect that the girl who mooned you and tripped over her own pants was a pre-med student?” Clarke finishes with a laugh.
“I would never have guessed,” Lexa says with a quirk of her mouth, “a testament to how wrong my judgment of people can be."
“I’m really sorry about that by the way,” Clarke mentions again.
Lexa gives Clarke a small smile, “it’s okay. I wasn’t scarred. Please don’t bake me any more brownies."
Clarke rolls her eyes, “come on. Were they really that bad?"
Lexa scoffs, “Clarke. Did you even try them yourself?"
“No,” Clarke concedes after a long moment, “after tasting my first five batches- I wasn’t in the mood for brownies."
Lexa smiles, “did you really not expect me to eat them?"
“I mean- you look like- that ,” Clarke sputters, gesturing to Lexa’s long, lean body.
“I have a certain weakness for chocolate and chocolate flavored desserts,” Lexa admits, “after Easter weekend I have to add in a few more gym sessions."
“Ah- I don’t believe in that,” Clarke says, shaking her head.
Lexa frowns, “Easter?"
“The gym,” Clarke quips back.
Lexa lets out a short laugh. Clarke tries to think of other things to say, anything to extend their conversation now that they’re nearly in front of Lexa’s house. But before she can find her wit, Lexa starts fishing her keys from her pocket,
“I’ll see you around Clarke."
Clarke swallows her slight disappointment and waves as Lexa heads inside, “yeah. See you."
It becomes a thing. Clarke finds Lexa in the library every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday and they study across the table from each other until Lexa gets up. Clarke actually gets reading done most of the time, although her annotations look suspiciously like sketches of Lexa’s face. They always talk while they walk back to their respective houses. But Clarke’s not sure how to transition talking and studying together three times a week into friendship.
To be honest, Clarke’s not used to building relationships. She grew up with Raven and Octavia. They’ve been friends since near birth. Her other best friend, Wells grew up next door to her. They were as good as siblings, always at each other’s houses and treating the other’s parents as their own.
Beyond that, Clarke’s never seriously dated anyone. Sure, she’s gone on dates and been in a couple of 'relationships' that lasted longer than three months, but Clarke’s never really wanted a future with someone. She’s never said I love you to anyone. And save for her parents and her friends, Clarke’s fairly certain she’s never actually loved anyone. Or at least she hasn’t been in love with anyone.
But Lexa is different.
Obviously, Lexa is hot and Clarke is a little bit shallow. Clarke’s fairly certain that if she wanted to just sleep with Lexa, she’d have already shamelessly hit on Lexa. Scarily, Clarke is slowly realizing, the more she talks to Lexa, the more she wants to talk to Lexa.
Usually, by now, whoever she’s interested in would have said or done something that would forever ruin their chances with Clarke. With Lexa, though, every new piece of information, every conversation they have, just draws Clarke in deeper.
//
One Saturday in late February, during a slight heat wave (even by Californian winter standards) Octavia and Raven decide they want to try making fish tacos. Admittedly their usual taco place is far from their house, but with Raven’s proclivity for starting fires and Octavia’s lack of patience, Clarke is sure that she won’t be eating any fish tacos tonight.
Raven and Octavia can’t even agree on a recipe to use. After Clarke chooses the recipe for them, they move onto bickering about the best way to debone and filet the fish.
“Do we even have half these ingredients?” Clarke asks.
Octavia looks up and shrugs. Clarke sighs and opens the cabinets. Most of the spices are nearly empty, if not completely empty. So Clarke leaves Octavia and Raven to (hopefully) sort out the fish. She heads across the street.
“Hey. Do you have some spices I can borrow?” Clarke asks as soon as Lexa opens the door.
“You’re trying to cook again?” Lexa asks, dubiously.
Clarke smiles, “helping out a friend in the kitchen."
Lexa raises her eyebrows, “is that wise?"
“Ha ha,” Clarke responds, dryly.
Lexa opens her door further and steps back, “what kind of spices?"
Clarke puts her hand in her pocket, only to realize that her phone with the ingredients list is on the counter of the house.
“Uh- The one that comes in a clear jar with a green top?"
Lexa barely conceals an eyeroll, “come on."
Clarke steps across the threshold and follows Lexa to her kitchen. Lexa opens up a cupboard. She shuffles some things around before pulling out a clear plastic tub full of spice jars.
“What exactly are you trying to make?” Lexa asks.
“Fried fish tacos,” Clarke answers.
Lexa nods and begins pulling out some of the spices to check their labels, “the spices are for the fish batter?”
Clarke nods.
“Okay. You probably want some salt, pepper, paprika, garlic powder-“ Lexa lists off as she slides them across the counter to Clarke.
“How much?” Clarke asks.
“I’m sorry?"
“How much of those things will we need?"
“How much fish are you frying?"
Clarke shrugs.
“Your friends sent you to get spices without telling you what kind and how much you need?"
Clarke shrugs again, “the recipe just listed them with no amounts."
Lexa sighs and runs a hand through her hair. Wordlessly, she grabs her keys and tucks the box of spices under her arm.
“Where are you going?"
“To cook fish tacos apparently."
-
When they arrive in the kitchen, Raven and Octavia are bickering over how to slice the fish.
“Clarke, tell Octavia that I’m right. She should slice it lengthwise, then widthwise."
“The fish piece is too thick on that side-"
“It’ll be fine."
Lexa puts the spices down and rolls up her sleeves. She takes the knife from Octavia's hand and turns to Raven,
“Do you have an apron?"
Raven nods wordlessly and grabs it for Lexa.
“First you have to de-scale the fish-” Lexa gestures with her hand before running the knife blade over the fish’s skin and taking off all the scales. In short order, Lexa has skinned the fish and freed the meat of the fish from the bones and head. It then takes Lexa all of thirty seconds to expertly slice up all the fish into even pieces.
Damn. Raven mouths at Clarke from behind Lexa’s back.
“Clarke, can you measure out three cups of flour?” Lexa asks, before turning to the others, “Octavia, can you get all the spices listed on the recipe? Raven. Put that heavy pan on the fire and start heating up some oil. Enough oil to completely submerge the fish in."
They all nod and get to their tasks. Meanwhile, Lexa washes her hands and the knife before beginning to slice the cabbage for the slaw. Clarke is mesmerized by how quickly Lexa slices through an entire head of cabbage. It’s almost mystifying the speed at which Lexa can dice onions and garlic too.
“Where’d you learn to do that with the knife?” Octavia questions in awe.
“My uncle owned a restaurant and I wanted to be a chef as a kid,” Lexa answers as she grabs a bowl to mix the slaw ingredients together.
“What happened?” Clarke asks.
Lexa shrugs, “my interests changed. I still like cooking, but I think econ and poly sci are far more interesting to study."
-
With Lexa, directing everything goes much more smoothly.
“Okay Raven, just dip it into the egg, then roll it around in the batter, then- carefully- put the fish into the oil. Octavia do you have the timer?"
Octavia fishes the timer from her pocket, “I got it. Pull it out when the timer beeps."
Lexa nods and steps back to watch Raven and Octavia fry the fish.
Clarke says from where she’s perched on the counter, “you didn’t have to help us cook."
Lexa crosses the kitchen and joins Clarke in sitting on the back counter, “you think I’d leave you three to mess up fish tacos and burn your house down?"
“Yeah, what do we owe you?” Octavia shouts over the sizzle of the fish in hot oil.
“Nothing,” Lexa answers.
“No- I mean you’re obviously staying to eat the dinner you just cooked-” Octavia starts before Raven interrupts.
“We have beer."
Lexa smiles, “beer is acceptable currency."
“I like her already, Clarke,” Raven says with a grin.
-
Beer and tacos turns into Raven and Octavia ditching them for ‘bedroom activities’. It leaves Clarke and Lexa swinging gently on the porch swing watching progressively drunker groups of students stumble and shout up and down the street. Clarke can feel a pleasant buzz in her veins. It’s just enough to keep her warm when a breeze blows through, but not so much that her thoughts are muddled.
Lexa looks stunning in the low light of dusk. She’s turned slightly away from Clarke. The curve of her cheekbone looks ephemeral, back lit by the last rays of the setting sun. Clarke can’t help but admire Lexa’s sharp jawline as Lexa tilts her beer back and finishes her beer.
“So if you didn’t come over and teach us to make tacos what would you be doing tonight?”
“I had a date with my Netflix queue,” Lexa answers.
Clarke laughs, “lemme guess. You’re a secret romantic who loves watching rom coms."
Lexa shakes her head, “documentaries, actually."
“You watch documentaries for fun?”
“You’d be surprised how much you can learn-"
“Of course you’d want to learn in your free time too,” Clarke groans before taking another swig of her beer.
“There’s so much in this world to be amazed by Clarke,” Lexa says, her words running together in a slight slur.
Clarke smiles at how relaxed Lexa looks, “you’re such a nerd."
“Says the girl who got into medical school,” Lexa retorts, a small smile pulling up at the corners of her mouth.
They’re both silent then, for a moment. Lexa pulls at the label on her now empty beer bottle. Clarke reaches down between her legs and grabs another bottle. She uncaps it on the edge of the bench and hands it to Lexa.
“Why’d you come back to school?"
“My parents always wanted me to get my degree. After they- it was hard. But it’s been two years. I thought it was time that I actually got it,” Lexa answers, staring at the bottle label, “and what better place than their alma mater?"
“This is my dad’s alma mater too. He used to give me tours of the campus when I was a kid,” Clarke admits, smiling at the memories.
Her dad could never remember the names of any of the non-engineering buildings. “I lived in the basement of Etcheverry Hall, Clarke.” He would joke. “I didn’t even know that there were other parts of campus.”
Her freshman year, Clarke had tried studying in the basement of Etcheverry Hall in an effort to feel some kind of connection to her dad, but the musty smell and lack of sunlight wasn’t conducive to Clarke’s productivity.
“Does he use you as an excuse to visit campus?” Lexa asks, her eyes on Clarke now.
Clarke chugs the rest of her beer before answering, “he died when I was sixteen."
It still sucks to say. Clarke’s not sure that there’s ever going to be a day when it isn’t hard to remember that her dad is gone. Lexa doesn’t say anything but she reaches over and takes Clarke’s hand in her own. She rubs her thumb over the back of Clarke’s hand soothingly.
-
By the time they move off the porch, the sun has completely set and the street lights have flickered on. They’re sober enough to feel the cold breeze brush against their skin. The yelling of party-going students is distant now.
Lexa helps Clarke pick up some of the bottles that Raven and Octavia left behind. They clean up in silence. It isn’t until they’re both standing in the main entrance hall of the co-op that Lexa clears her throat.
“Thanks for dinner and the beer,” Lexa says, quietly fiddling with her keys.
“I should be thanking you for dinner,” Clarke answers with a smile. “Thanks for helping us cook- and keeping me company while Raven defiles every piece of furniture in our room."
Lexa laughs at that, “of course. I couldn’t let you poison your friends."
“I’ll uh- see you Monday in the library?”
“I’ll be there."
Lexa leaves with one more small smile over her shoulder. As soon as Lexa’s out the door, Clarke drops her hand where it was raised in an awkward wave.
//
Their study sessions turn into more hanging out than studying after that. Some days, Lexa invites Clarke over and cooks for the two of them. She cites the co-op’s poor chefs as her chief concern.
“Food poisoning is no joke Clarke,” Lexa says when Clarke asks.
Clarke obliges Lexa (how could she not, she’s getting the best free meals of her life). Lexa teaches Clarke how to dice and slice things properly. It doesn’t take long for Clarke to start helping with all the non-fire related parts of the meal.
Seeing Lexa so often does nothing to dampen Clarke’s crush on her. Her crush grows. There’s something undeniably sexy about the way Lexa rolls up her sleeves as she walks into the kitchen. Or the way Lexa can sauté vegetables and flip them in the pan without losing any of them.
It becomes a routine…almost.
On days that Raven has a late lab, Lexa comes over and Clarke orders take out. They study together for a few hours before Lexa bids her goodnight and retreats across the street. On the nights that Raven and Octavia are occupying their room, Clarke comes over. They prepare the meal side by side.
It’s the most domesticity Clarke's ever felt. Even her parents didn’t engage in this much domesticity. Clarke has certainly never been in any relationship long enough to develop a routine. Raven and Octavia won’t stop teasing her about being in a sexless marriage. Horrifying, Clarke realizes that they’re right.
She and Lexa text nearly every day now, although Lexa prefers to talk verbally over the phone whenever possible. Clarke hates talking on the phone. It’s always awkward and stilted and she’s always made her significant others just text her.
But her phone conversations with Lexa are easy. They’re almost always about food or where they’re studying that night. There are never any long pauses that make Clarke’s skin crawl. And probably best of all, Lexa has never argued with her over who hangs up first.
(Clarke loathes those people.)
It results in a lot of sexual frustration for Clarke. Nearly every night Clarke winds up dreaming about Lexa and waking up with her hand halfway down her shorts. It wouldn’t be so bad if Clarke could just get herself off without thinking about Lexa. But every time Clarke tries to rub one out, Lexa inevitably pops into her head.
(Clarke feels slightly guilty using Lexa as masturbation fodder. They’re supposed to be friends.)
Clarke also hasn't gotten laid since last year. Even though last year was really only three months ago, for a girl who is used to getting laid once a month (at her very worst), Clarke is on the verge of exploding.
“I’m sure if you asked, Lexa would help you out with your problem ,” Raven answers, unhelpfully when Clarke asks if Raven knows anyone to set her up with.
Clarke shakes her head, “it’s not-“
“Clarke doesn’t just want to get laid, Ray. She wants to get married and have Lexa’s babies,” Octavia interrupts, mockingly.
“No I don’t,” Clarke replies too quickly. “We’re friends. Besides, we haven’t even kissed."
“Clarke and Lexa sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in a baby carriage-“ Raven and Octavia dissolve into laughter.
“I’m going over to Lexa’s,” Clarke announces when their laughter has died down a bit. Before they can start another round of schoolyard chants, Clarke leaves her room.
Clarke heads over to Lexa’s and rings the doorbell. But Lexa doesn’t answer the door. A tall, leggy brunette with blonde highlights, stands in the doorway. She’s wearing a shirt (that Clarke recognizes as one of Lexa’s) and a pair of super tight spandex shorts.
Clarke’s stomach sinks a little bit. Of course, Lexa would have a half naked model in her house. Obviously, Lexa’s interested in girls with cheekbones that can cut glass and tan, long, muscular legs, that a few months ago, Clarke would have happily wanted wrapped around her ears. Clarke swallows down the weird, envy that bubbles up and tries to put her friendliest game face on.
“Hi, is Lexa home?"
“Who’s asking,” the woman replies brusquely.
Clarke’s about to ask for the woman’s name when Lexa comes down the stairs, “Anya, did you get the- hi Clarke."
Lexa is just in a robe, drying off her hair with a towel. Clarke’s stomach plummets. She tries smiling, but she’s pretty sure her smile looks tense and forced. (It feels tense and forced to her.)
“So this is Clarke,” Anya states, eyeing Clarke up and down without moving from her place in the doorway.
“Anya,” Lexa warns.
Anya rolls her eyes and steps aside for Clarke to enter.
“If you’re busy I can come back-“ Clarke starts, still standing on the porch.
Lexa shakes her head, “I’m not. Clarke, this is Anya, my sister. Anya, this is Clarke, she lives across the street."
“Nice to meet you,” Clarke greets again, holding out her hand. Her enthusiasm isn’t forced this time.
Anya eyes her hand for a long moment before taking it.
“I was going to grill some fish for dinner. Do you want to join us, Clarke?"
“Sure."
Lexa leaves Clarke in the living room with Anya while she goes to get dressed. Clarke fidgets with her watch and tries to think of conversation starters. Before she has a chance, Anya speaks.
“Don’t let my sister fool you. The tabloids may have given her the reputation of a player, but at her core she’s a romantic. She gets attached and she cares, even when she shouldn’t, even when she doesn’t want to. She’s a good person. Don’t fuck her up."
“I won’t,” Anya raises an eyebrow, prompting Clarke to add, “we’re just friends."
Anya scoffs, “sure you are."
-
Lexa is as talkative as Clarke’s ever seen her. She’s clearly excited to see her sister. As much as Anya tries to play it cool, Anya clearly loves seeing Lexa. Even if they show their love by constantly teasing each other.
“Lexa was such a gawky kid. She was all limbs and brains-“ Anya starts.
“Anya was all brawn,” Lexa quips back, ignoring her sister’s glare.
“I taught you everything you know,” Anya growls back.
Lexa rolls her eyes, “I forgot that you were an expert in Political Economy."
“Anyway, what do you study Clarke?"
“I’m an MCB major,” Clarke answers before clarifying, “molecular and cell biology."
“Clarke’s going to med school in the fall,” Lexa adds on.
“So, you’re a nerd too,” Anya drawls.
Clarke shrugs, “well, I don’t watch history channel documentaries on the weekends for fun but-"
Anya shakes her head, “you still do that Lex?"
“They’re entertaining. And they’re more diverse than the constant droning action movies you like,” Lexa shoots back, pulling the fish off the grill and carefully placing the filets in a tray
“Don’t worry, I got her to start watching some comedies with me,” Clarke tells Anya as they bring the fish inside.
“So you’ll branch out for Clarke but not your own sister?” Anya calls back out to Lexa.
“Clarke has never stolen my glasses and refused to give them back for an entire day,” Lexa shouts as she shuts off the girl.
“It was April Fool’s Day."
“I had driver’s ed that day."
“Shouldn’t have left your glasses out."
“They were on my own desk, in my room."
-
Dinner is entertaining. Clarke learns more about how Lexa was as a teenager. She learns about the first time Lexa tried drinking from a wine bladder and wound up spraying the entire living room with cheap, vinegar smelling, wine. In turn, Lexa tells Clarke about the time that Anya tried to hook up with a guy while their parents were home and accidentally bit too hard on his neck resulting their parents driving Anya and the boy to the hospital.
Clarke’s never seen Lexa this animated before. Anya is sarcastic and witty, but Lexa holds her own and easily retorts and refutes everything that Anya says. Around nine, Anya decides to turn in citing jet lag.
“Alright. You kids be good,” Anya says as she stands.
Lexa rolls her eyes, but stands too and wraps her sister in a hug, “I’m glad you’re here."
“It’s good to see you too kid,” Anya answers, “it was nice to meet you Clarke."
“It was nice to meet you too."
And with another nod, Anya leaves.
“I’m sorry,” Lexa says, “she surprised me."
“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad I got to meet her."
“She likes you."
“She does?"
“She acknowledged your presence. For Anya, that’s as good as approval."
//
After Anya’s visit, there’s a shift.
Clarke doesn’t notice at first until they’re watching a Netflix cooking documentary and Lexa’s shoulder is pressed right up against Clarke’s shoulder. A few days later when Lexa is trying to teach her how to successfully flip a pancake, Lexa corrects her grip on the spatula with a gentle hand and her hand lingers on Clarke’s. When they’re leaving the library a week later, another student accidentally bumps into Clarke, nearly tripping her. Lexa is there, with her arms around Clarke’s waist, hauling her back to standing position. They stare at each other for a long moment before someone jostles Lexa and the spell is broken.
“You sound seriously crazy,” Raven remarks without looking up when Clarke tells her.
Clarke shakes her head, she knows that things are different now, “I’m not. It’s- she’s more touchy ."
“I know we joke about your crush on her, but Clarke-"
Clarke interrupts, “You think I’m imagining it?"
“I think you really like Lexa. And I think you really want her to like you back,” Raven answers.
“What do I do?"
Raven shrugs, “honestly, I wish I could help you Griffin."
-
“We’re having an Easter brunch party Sunday if you want to come,” Clarke mentions offhandedly when slips into Lexa’s house.
Lexa doesn’t even look up from where she’s sprawled out on the couch, typing at her computer, “have you volunteered me to cook again?"
“No. It’s not that kind of Easter brunch,” Clarke answers with a laugh before trying to explain. “It’s more about bottomless mimosas and easter egg hunts for easter eggs full of travel sized liquor."
“What time does it start?” Lexa asks, looking up at Clarke.
“Ten,” Clarke answers as she lifts Lexa’s legs up so that she can sit on the couch.
“Okay. I’ll come,” Lexa smiles and reaches over to the coffee table to grab the remote.
“Great."
-
It’s a testament to her housemates that by 9am there’s a beer bong hanging from the third floor of their house and that Clarke is chugging her breakfast from the other end of the beer bong on the porch below. Her housemates erupt in cheers when she finally pulls away.
“That was- impressive,” Lexa’s voice cuts through the noise and Clarke whips around.
Lexa is as casual an outfit as Clarke’s ever seen her in, outside the house at least.
“Lexa-"
“Lexa! You’re here,” Raven’s voice booms from the doorway, “and you brought whiskey! She’s a keeper Griffy-poo."
With that, Raven grabs the bottle of whiskey from Lexa’s hand, barely dodging a slap from Clarke and makes her way back inside. Left alone on the porch once more, Clarke shoots an apologetic look at Lexa.
“Raven seems to be a morning person,” Lexa muses with a smile.
Clarke shakes her head and leads Lexa inside, “only for alcohol. Can I get you a drink? We have a lot of alcohol-"
“Just a beer is fine."
-
Clarke’s not sure what she expected drunk Lexa to be like. But she definitely did not expect to ever see Lexa chugging a beer from a beer bong while the sun falls behind the Berkeley hills. Lexa’s not as practiced in her technique and when she pulls away, there’s beer dripping down her chin. The entire house shouts and cheers, and it leads to most of the house on the porch shotgunning beers in celebration.
When Lexa just winds up spraying herself in the face with her beer, Clarke can’t help but laugh. Lexa shoots her a glare which would be intimidating if beer wasn’t dripping off her face, down her neck, slowly turning the top of her white shirt sheer.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” Clarke says as she drags Lexa by hand into the house and upstairs.
When they get to Clarke’s room, Clarke hands Lexa a clean towel from her hamper. Lexa wipes the beer from her face and carefully squeezes the beer from her hair too.
“Thank you Clarke."
“No problem. Your shirt though-“ Clarke starts as she reaches out to grab the wet collar of Lexa’s shirt.
Clarke chalks it up to the beer and whiskey pumping through her veins, when she takes another step forward. She and Lexa are toe to toe. Lexa gulps hard and the hand holding the towel is hanging limply at her side.
“Clarke-“ Lexa breathes out, so quiet that Clarke might have missed it if she’d been standing further away.
Clarke doesn’t make the first move. She just stays standing there, looking up at Lexa through her eyelashes. Lexa smells like a mix of cheap beer and some kind of sandalwood soap. It’s intoxicating and Clarke’s head feels muddled with the warmth and smell of Lexa so close to her.
She doesn’t even really notice that Lexa’s leaned down until Lexa’s hand comes up under her chin. Lexa’s hand is soft and Clarke leans into her touch and then Lexa’s lips are on hers. Clarke’s grip tightens around the collar of Lexa’s shirt. Lexa allows Clarke to pull her closer.
There’s a soft thump when Lexa drops the towel onto the ground. Her hands come around Clarke’s waist. Lexa’s fingers brush the strip of skin below the hem of Clarke’s shirt. A moan bubbles up from Clarke’s throat and Lexa presses her fingers more purposefully. Clarke can feel Lexa’s fingers dip just below the waist of her pants and she wants more.
Clarke pulls away just long enough to unbutton her pants and shove Lexa’s hand down the front.
“Are you sure?” Lexa pants into Clarke’s mouth.
Clarke nods and pushes her body against Lexa’s drawing a groan as she grinds down into Lexa’s hand. With her other hand, Lexa undoes the clasp of Clarke’s bra. Meanwhile, Clarke tugs at Lexa’s shirt until Lexa breaks away so that Clarke can tug her shirt over her head. Clarke tries to tug Lexa’s pants down and Lexa nearly trips before remembering to take off her shoes and then her pants.
It’s fast and frenzied. But Clarke has never felt so alive. Her skin burns with the touch of Lexa’s bare skin and Clarke closes her eyes and just feels Lexa everywhere . One hand threaded through her blonde hair, her thigh slipping between Clarke’s legs, her other hand cupping the swell of Clarke’s breast.
“Lexa- please,” Clarke exhales, looking up at dark green eyes.
Lexa barely nods and then her lips are trailing down Clarke’s body.
//
Clarke wakes up with a mouthful of hair. Lexa’s back is flush with her front and Clarke’s face is inches from the back of Lexa’s neck. Clarke checks her phone. 9:45.
Carefully, Clarke untangles herself from Lexa and scoots out of bed. She pulls on a pair of sweatpants, throws her hair up in a messy bun, grabs her keys and sneaks out of the room. It’s only a ten minute walk over to the nearest Walgreens. Clarke manages to get there right as the employees unlock the door. She beelines for the Holiday Themed candy aisle. Clarke pretty much empties the shelf of all their chocolate bunnies (for Lexa) and Creme-Eggs (for her).
When she gets back to her room, Lexa has moved and sprawled out over most of the bed. Clarke tosses a bag of candy onto the bed, meaning for it to land next to Lexa’s sleeping form. Instead, Clarke clips Lexa in the face with the bag. Lexa jerks still half asleep into a sitting position.
“Shit,” Clarke curses.
Lexa rubs her head where the bag clipped her, “Clarke? What’s going on?"
“Shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you. Are you okay?"
Clarke is on the bed at Lexa’s side in an instant. She gently grabs Lexa by the chin and turns Lexa’s head checking for any bruising. Lexa allows Clarke to tilt her head this way and that.
Their faces are only inches apart and Lexa’s cheeks are warm beneath her fingertips. Lexa swallows hard and Clarke can’t help it when her eyes flick down from Lexa’s forehead to her eyes then to her lips. Lexa clears her throat and Clarke instantly lets go of Lexa’s chin.
“I’m fine Clarke. Just- surprised,” Lexa’s voice trails off as she looks at the bag, “are those chocolate bunnies? Did you buy me 15 chocolate bunnies?"
“They were half off,” Clarke replies, sheepishly.
Clarke can see a tinge of pink coloring Lexa’s cheeks when she says, “thank you Clarke."
Her voice is so gentle and sincere. Clarke’s heartbeat quickens and she tries to distract herself from the overwhelming urge to kiss Lexa. She bites into a creme egg a little bit too aggressively. The creme egg all but explodes in her hand. Lexa bursts out laughing.
“I can safely say that’s never happened to me before,” Clarke announces and Lexa collapses into another fit of laughter.
When Lexa has recovered, she reaches her hand out to Clarke’s face.
“What’re you-"
“You had some creme egg on your face,” Lexa answers, carefully wiping the bit of creme egg stuck to Clarke’s cheek with the pad of her thumb.
Clarke opens her mouth to say something, but before she can, Lexa leans over and brings their lips together. Clarke squeaks in surprise, causing Lexa to pull away briefly. But Clarke nudges their noses together and captures Lexa’s mouth in a longer kiss. Lexa tastes a little bit bitter from the dark chocolate. Her lips are soft and smooth against Clarke’s slightly chapped lips.
They kiss for a while before Lexa pulls away again. Clarke chases Lexa’s lips for a half second before stopping herself. When she opens her eyes, Lexa’s staring right at her. Clarke holds Lexa's gaze and watches Lexa’s eyes flick down to her lips. Just as Lexa is about to lean in again, there’s a banging on the door.
“Clarke I hope you’re not doing the dirty in there,” Raven shouts through the door.
Clarke bounces up from the bed and opens the door for Raven. Raven, of course, immediately spots the bags of candy and jumps onto Clarke’s bed to steal some.
“Raven-“ Clarke starts.
“Oh shit. Did I interrupt your move? Pretend I’m not here,” Raven scoops up an armful of candy and moves to her side of the room.
Lexa looks mostly amused, but slightly offended that Raven’s taken a few of her chocolate bunnies. Raven for her part, attempts to look occupied by her computer. Clarke sits back down on her bed heavily. The three of them sit in an uncomfortable silence. Lexa is reading the nutritional label on the box of a chocolate bunny. Raven is staring at them in the mirror on her desk, but looking away every time Clarke catches her eye.
Suddenly, Clarke stands up, “grab your bag Lexa."
Wordlessly, Lexa grabs her bag of chocolate bunnies. Clarke grabs Lexa's free hand and drags her out of the room. Clarke pulls her all the way out of the house and across the street. Lexa fumbles for her keys when they reach her front door. As soon as Lexa has the door unlocked, Clarke marches across the threshold into the house.
Clarke takes Lexa’s bag from her and sets it down on the nearby end table before pushing Lexa up against the door and leaning up to press a hard kiss to Lexa’s lips.
“Clarke wait-“ Lexa gasps as Clarke drags her teeth lightly down Lexa’s neck, “Clarke."
Clarke pulls away then. For a moment, they both pause to catch their breath. Clarke tries not to focus on the rapid rise and fall of Lexa’s chest, tries not to see the bruises she left on Lexa’s collarbone.
“I think we should talk-“ Lexa continues, when she’s caught her breath.
“Talk?” Clarke asks, “you really want to talk?"
(No one’s ever wanted to talk when Clarke’s making her move.)
Lexa’s eyes dip once to Clarke’s lips before meeting her eyes again and Lexa nods. Clarke steps back and puts a foot of space between them. Lexa shifts from foot to foot. Clarke can feel the nerves rolling off her and it makes her widen the gap between them even more. Lexa swallows hard and opens her mouth to speak but no words come out.
The atmosphere has shifted and it feels uncomfortable, almost stifling to be in the room. Clarke suddenly feels exposed and bare with the way Lexa stares at her. She crosses her arms across her body and pointedly looks everywhere but Lexa because Lexa is still not speaking and the longer the silence drags on the larger the feeling of foreboding grows.
Clarke can’t help but feel her insecurities creep in. For better or for worse, hooking up with people without strings attached, without ever falling for them, has been the peak of her love life. After everything that happened with Finn, Clarke knows better than to get attached, than to fall in head first. And yet, Lexa happened.
Lexa who is a multimillionaire on the way to becoming the youngest Fortune 500 CEO. Lexa who wears nothing less than business casual at all times. Lexa whose exes are models and actresses. Lexa who wouldn’t be interested in a college girl who has a roommate and drinks out of a beer bong at least once a week.
Why would Lexa ever be interested in her for anything more than what they’ve already had?
“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Clarke spits into the room looking anywhere but Lexa’s eyes, trying desperately to leave with some dignity. If Lexa’s not going to talk, Clarke’s not going to beat around the bush.
“Doesn’t it?” Lexa says, finally.
Clarke looks up at that, surprised and Lexa continues, “I like you Clarke. A lot. And I like everything we did yesterday and this morning. But I would also like to take you out on a proper date."
“You like me?"
“Yes Clarke."
“You seriously like me. You."
“Yes Clarke. I seriously like you,” Lexa pauses, allowing Clarke to digest her words for a second, “I want to do this properly Clarke."
“Properly,” Clarke says, slowly allowing Lexa’s words to sink in, “so we’re not going to have sex right now because you like me so much."
Lexa nods, “but if you’re free for lunch, I’d like to take you out."
“Okay. I’m going to go-“ Clarke says, moving around Lexa to open the front door.
Lexa furrows her eyebrows, “you’re leaving?"
“I don’t want to smell like stale beer and sex for our lunch date,” Clarke answers.
“Right."
Clarke presses a quick kiss to Lexa’s lips before making her way out the door.
“Noon?” Lexa calls out after her.
“Noon,” Clarke confirms, all but skipping back across the street.
It’s a bright, sunny Monday. Clarke is nursing a light hangover. The girl she likes, likes her back. Getting drunk on a Tuesday is the best decision she’s ever made.