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“You’re drunk.” It’s not a question but it kind of sounds like one because, Clarke Griffin? Drunk? She presses her nose into his shoulder as if the world has tilted a little and she’s just leaning with it. Then she giggles into his shoulder. Clarke Griffin. Is someone recording this?
“I am suitably tipsy,” she informs him and he outright laughs at that.
“Yeah, and Monty isn’t totally in love with Miller, he just appreciates him.”
She huffs. “I don’t even know why we’re friends.”
In all honesty he doesn’t know either. He met her three years ago when she became his boss at the insurance company he was employed at. He had hated her. She was rich and bossy and she knew just about all of the executives. But she also took none of his shit and she was actually a pretty damn good boss. He was in the middle of not acknowledging the last parts when Miller (stupid, fucking Miller) invited her to one of their Friday bar nights. Who invites their boss out to Friday night drinks? But she showed up in jeans and a T-shirt instead of her normal pantsuit, and she was sarcastic and fun and somehow she had become a regular in their Friday night antics. He ended up kind of liking her. And now, yeah, they are friends. But still, Clarke never goes beyond tipsy. Except, of course, for tonight.
“We’re friends because I’m beautiful and charming,” he says with a grin.
She hums. “A little.”
“Wait, you actually think I’m beautiful and charming?”
“I am your boss,” she (somewhat) answers with a small scowl.
“Wow, thanks for the reminder. It’s wonderful that you can hang out with us lowly peasants.”
“You are a very nice-looking peasant,” she pauses and frowns, “and I say that in a way that is not creepy and totally appropriate for a boss to say.”
Is she flirting with him? Because he had definitely imagined this. Only she never called him a peasant in those dreams.
“And I think you are an appropriately nice-looking boss.”
She grins up at him before burying her head back into his chest and, god, if the world really is tilting he’d appreciate it if it could straighten back up soon because he’s not sure how much of this he can take. Thankfully, his co-worker, Jasper, interrupts them.
“Dude, Clarke is wasted,” he calls in a singsong voice as he bounds up to them.
“Hypocrite,” Clarke mumbles into Bellamy’s shirt. Jasper always gets ridiculously wasted on their nights out. The kid has no limits.
Bellamy grips Clarke’s shoulders and pulls her away from his chest. “He’s kind of right, though,” he says. “How about we get you some fresh air?”
She grumbles a little but doesn’t put up any resistance as he steers her outside. He vaguely hears Jasper call ‘best boss ever!’ as they leave. Outside the thick warmth of the bar, the air is crisp and cold. Clarke leans back into him and he winds his arms around her without thinking. They stand there for a while until he looks down and notices her eyes are shut and she’s probably halfway asleep. Well, alcohol is a depressant.
“Clarke,” he murmurs, shaking her softly.
She opens her eyes slowly, humming out a “yes?”
“You were asleep.”
“Jesus,” she mumbles before dragging a hand across her face. She looks up at him and whatever she sees there causes her to laugh softly, and then louder, until she’s shaking and bending over in a fit.
“What’s so funny?” he asks, bewildered. She meets his eyes before bursting out in laughter again.
“I don’t know,” she manages between wheezes. And then he starts laughing too because it’s contagious.
“You’re ridiculous,” he tells her once they’ve both got control of themselves.
“I may be a little bit drunk,” she admits with a smile.
“Oh, yeah, only a tiny bit.”
“I can’t drive my car home.”
He sighs. “Well, luckily one of us planned ahead and caught a cab here. I can drive your car to your place.”
“And you’re sober enough?”
He taps his head. “Planning ahead.”
+
Okay so maybe he’s not very good at planning ahead because when he arrives at Clarke’s place he realises he is in her car and can’t get home.
“Sleep in my spare bed,” she says with a shrug as if it’s not a big deal. And maybe it’s not. Not for her, anyway. But she’s his hot boss. And she’ll be there when he wakes up. And… he’s so out of depth.
He shrugs as he follows her inside. She did call him a nice-looking peasant.
Clarke leads him to the spare bedroom. “Ta da,” she mumbles as she swings the door open.
He walks through ahead of her and sits on the edge of the bed while he tugs of his shoes.
She watches him for a minute before abruptly saying, “nighty-night” and leaving the room.
“G’night,” he calls back, grinning. Nighty-night? God, he loves drunk Clarke. Well, not loves. Likes appropriately. He appropriately-likes his appropriately-hot boss.
Who is he kidding?
+
It’s nearly 11a.m. and the bacon and eggs he fried are getting cold. He makes his way up the stairs. He opens a few wrong doors before finding Clarke’s. Their friendship is basically limited to the office and the bar so he’s never actually been to her place.
He finds her, facedown on her bed, above the covers with her limbs spread out like a starfish.
“Clarke?”
He makes his way up to her bed and shakes her shoulder. “Clarke?” he asks again.
His only reply is a low groan from the blonde.
“I made breakfast. Come on.” He pushes at her shoulder again.
“I’d rather stay here for the rest of my life, please.”
He laughs. “That bad?”
“I’ve had worse.”
“What if I brought it up to you then?”
She turns around so she is face up. “You’re an angel,” she says with a slow smile.
“That’s definitely an upgrade from peasant.”
She groans and grabs the pillow beside her, shoving her face into it. “You won’t ever let me live that down, will you?” she asks, her words muffled by the pillow.
“Nope,” he grins before ducking out of her room.
+
“Hey, hey, hey,” Jasper calls as Clarke enters the office on Monday morning.
“I’ll fire you,” Clarke mumbles but there’s no heat behind it.
“Oh, Bellamy,” Jasper sighs dramatically in a high-pitched voice. He drapes himself over Clarke and if he ever loses his job he is screwed. This is Jasper’s first full time job and if he thinks all bosses will be this cool with him, he is dead wrong. “Let’s go get some fresh air, Bellamy.”
Clarke just laughs before grabbing his head and shoving him away. “I will fire you.”
“Is it even legal to threaten someone’s job like that?” Bellamy asks.
“Don’t question me. I’ll fire you too.”
“Oh, you won’t fire Bellamy,” Jasper coos like the fucking idiot he is. As he turns and walks to his desk, Clarke hurls a (luckily) empty plastic water bottle at him, hitting him square in the back of the head.
Ignoring his look of astonishment, she calls, “Now, everyone back to work. This is a no-fun zone”, before walking into her office.
“Did she just throw a water bottle at me?” Jasper asks his co-workers with wide eyes. He holds the water bottle in his hand gingerly as if he’s not even sure that it’s real. Monty hides his snicker in the crook of his elbow.
“Did you just tease your boss?” Bellamy asks.
“Hey, at least I didn’t take her home,” Jasper replies with a wicked grin. Raven wolf whistles from across the office and Bellamy is definitely not embarrassed.
“Get back to work, you fucking moron,” he grumbles.
+
He doesn’t get to see drunken Clarke again until Jasper’s birthday. Jasper has thrown a massive party and about 90% of the attendants Bellamy has never seen in his life. Their office group of Bellamy, Monty, Miller, Raven and Clarke stick with each other for most of the night. Jasper, despite the many people crowding his house, seems obsessed with getting Clarke drunk. He constantly refills her cup with god knows what when she’s not looking. Eventually she becomes a sloppy mess and Jasper tugs her into his living room to dance. Bellamy is slightly buzzed. Maybe a little past ‘slightly’. But he’s doing okay even if the world does feel like it has slowed a little. He laughs and chats with Monty, Miller and Raven. It’s nice. But then Clarke is wrapping herself around his arm.
“Come dance with me,” she says, tugging at him.
“Where’s Jasper?”
“He’s the birthday boy. Everyone kept stealing him away. I wanna dance with you.” Well, fuck, how can he say no to that? He ignores the looks of his co-workers as he lets her drag him away.
Clarke’s dancing mostly involves her throwing her hair around and jumping up and down but it’s really cute. Shit. She laughs a whole lot too and it’s a little hard to concentrate.
“Can I tell you something?” she yells over the pumping music.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure,” he yells back.
“Hold on,” she shouts. Her fingers wind their way through his and she uses their clasped hands to pull him outside. She leads him to the back corner of Jasper’s yard and sits on the grass. He sits down beside her and they both lean their heads back onto Jasper’s fence.
“Okay, this is super embarrassing but I need to get it out,” she starts. It’s relatively quiet out here and the warm air and lanterns scattered around them are soothing. “I think you’re really hot, but you probably know that.” He didn’t know that but he lets her continue anyway. “The problem is that I also think you’re really cool, as a person. And I’m kind of into you. Which is bad. Because I’m your boss. And you’re also way too hot for me. A—”
He silences her ramblings with his mouth over hers. She opens her mouth immediately for his tongue. It’s warm and sloppy but kind of perfect. At some point she makes her way onto his lap, her fingers tangling in his hair. He clutches at her hips and drags her closer. Her fingers slide down his abdomen to tug at his shirt.
“Clarke,” he laughs into her mouth. “We are in Jasper’s backyard. You are not undressing me here.”
“But at my place?” Her eyes are dark, like pools that he wouldn’t mind drowning in.
“Fuck. Yeah, okay.”
+
“Hey, Blake,” Raven calls when he enters the office, “the boss lady is sporting a nasty hickey. Know anything about that?” He definitely hears Monty snicker.
“Nope.”
“You’re not slick, Blake,” Raven squints at him.
Bellamy shrugs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He hears a gasp from the somewhere in the office. “What?”
“Bellamy Blake,” Jasper starts with a sly grin. “What were you doing over the weekend that caused you to bruise your neck?”
His hand subconsciously goes up to his neck. “I don’t know what you talking about.”
Raven’s laughter bursts through the room. “Okay, you keep telling yourself that.”
+
“Want me to kiss it better?” Clarke whispers into his neck.
“No, that’s how it got there in the first place,” he teases.
She grins slyly. “Okay. Where can I kiss you?”
“I can think of a few places.”