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Clarke is nothing if not professional. She can keep a seductive look on her face while covering her breasts with only her arm and a crew of about ten men look on. She can have a tarantula crawl on her face and not move a muscle, despite being completely terrified of spiders. But the one thing she cannot do is be civil to Bellamy Blake.
She has worked with a lot of male models and they all have a certain cockiness to them. How can they not really? When they’re being told day in and day out that they are extremely good looking, it causes cockiness. But this being said, Bellamy is on a whole other level. He doesn’t really think he’s better than everyone, he just carries himself like he does think that. When she first talked to him, he wasn’t that bad. He still got on her nerves, but he wasn’t a total douche. Now Murphy, Murphy is a total douche. She has no idea how she made it out of that perfume shoot without being arrested for murdering him.
Bellamy Blake is a special kind of asshole. Clarke knows he is that way because he hasn’t had it easy (it’s alarming how well she can get a read on him). But even the worst of backgrounds doesn’t warrant being a jerk.
They’ve done one shoot together, and when most photographers heard how that shoot went, they didn’t hire the both of them at the same time again. The whole shoot, he was bossing her around like he was a better model than she was. She got her revenge a little later in the shoot when she shifted a little on the motorcycle they were both sitting on. She maybe grinded on him a little bit... And it was totally worth it when she heard him try, and mostly fail, to suppress a groan. It was even better when she saw the ad and found out that was the shot they used.
So now, she has a reason to dislike him, and he has a reason to dislike her. The world is at balance. Equilibrium has been reached.
Until this photoshoot.
Another perfume ad, great. That should raise alarm right there. Perfume ads always spell trouble.
But this ad is extremely confusing. Which says a lot because perfume ads are fucking weird.
It's a two page spread; the first page shows Clarke wearing a seashell bra like she's the Little Mermaid, and the second is her in a field of pink roses (green screen) with a single blood red rose in her hand. Apparently it's two different scents that make a set, but. She doesn't question it. They're paying her quite well.
She doesn't even know she's doing the shoot with someone else until she gets there. She first hears about whoever's working with her when the makeup artist lets it slip. The somewhat guilty look on her face lets Clarke know that something fishy is going on.
She's still getting her makeup done when Bellamy walks in. She tries to scowl at him, but she sort of fails. It's hard to make a mean face when someone is blending concealer under your eyes. He just smirks, like some sort of- some sort of smug bastard.
They finish her makeup a little while after that and Clarke thinks this may be one of her favorite looks. The eye shadow they used is blue and shiny, paired with a green eyeliner. The blush on her cheeks is mostly just glitter (Clarke really likes glitter), and her lips are a pale pink and really glossy. She'd be a smoking hot mermaid. The seashell bra is uncomfortable and the clear straps that go around her neck are pulling her hair as it sticks and unsticks to the material. But there is a little bit of glitter on the shells and she only has to wear it until they get the shot. She can tough it out.
She's standing in front of Bellamy when it's time to shoot. The picture is only of their upper halves so she's wearing jeans. The photographer instructs Bellamy to lean down so he's almost kissing her neck. Clarke realizes a little too late that she's started some sort of teasing war with Bellamy. His breath is hot on her neck and it causes her to shiver every now and again. It's involuntary. Definitely. So out of her control. Except that it totally isn't. His hands are also on her hips, his fingers digging in. His chest is solid against her back and the water they used to spray his hair drips onto her skin.
Yeah, Clarke's getting a little turned on.
When the photographer finally announces that they've got the shot, Clarke darts away from Bellamy as fast as she can, trying to avoid all contact as she gets her makeup redone. She hopes she wasn't too obvious. But somehow Bellamy looks even more smug when he sits in the makeup chair beside her. So she definitely failed.
Her job sucks sometimes.
For the next picture, her look is much softer. Brown eyeliner, rosy cheeks, and a bright red lipstick to match the rose.
Bellamy's wearing a white button up, and she has no clue why that gets to her more than him being shirtless did in the last picture. He looks like some guy who works in an office building and makes way too much money which he uses to look better than every other guy in the office. Clarke would definitely work in that office. And wear cute pencil skirts. And have Bellamy tear them off or bunch them up at the waist when they have sex on his desk and.
Wow.
Okay...
She really needs the photographer to get the shot within a few frames so she can get out of there and go home. A place where Bellamy will not be and a place where her vibrater is.
This one is a lot better for her self control, however. The only part of her that's touching Bellamy is the hand that she's holding. Her back is to him as she smells the rose, which is actually real and smells amazing. They do end up getting the ‘money shot’ as the photographer calls it, and she's heading back to the makeup chair as soon as he says that. Her makeup artist starts taking off the makeup as Clarke fidgets in the chair.
She must not notice Bellamy leave, because as she walks out of the studio, he's nowhere to be seen.
The elevator is a different story though.
He's standing there waiting for it to come, tapping a beat on the floor with his foot. He takes a deep breath when he notices her standing there and she would give anything to know what's going on in his head. Is he angry at her? It would make sense. Since, you know, they still totally and definitely still hate each other.
As soon as the doors open and they both step inside, he has her pinned against the wall of the elevator. His arms cage her in and his hips are pressed against hers.
“I think the photographer was trying to set us up,” he nearly growls. “With that first shot.”
The only place she can seem to focus on is his lips. They look nice and she definitely wants them on hers. “Did it work?” she breathes after a moment.
“Definitely,” he says before he kisses her.
It's a short elevator ride to the lobby, but they're both too far gone to take much notice of that. When the doors open, Clarke grabs his hand and leads him to her car. They make out in the driver's seat, a lot, before his hand slips under her shirt and she decides she can't wait any longer.
Her hands move down his chest until she reaches the button of his jeans. He's laughing against her jaw, saying something smug like Eager are we, Princess? because he's just a smug asshole who is... Smug!
She's not entirely sure if this is hate sex, or something else. But boy does it feel good.
And that's how they became enemies with benefits.
She'll call him after a late night shoot, or he'll meet her for lunch that's not even really lunch. Although there is some ‘eating’ involved. He's amazing and it's fun. They end up sexting sometimes too and he's just extremely frustrating in a very sexual way. He'll get her worked up and then tell her he can't see her until next week. He's still an asshole. The only difference is that now, she loves it.
Somewhere between slamming him against his shower wall and him getting her off with his fingers while she was actually trying to get ready (see? frustrating!), they end up getting coffee in the mornings or actually meeting for actual lunch. And then there was the time he called her and she couldn't come over since she was on her period, but he told her to just come anyways. They watched a movie on his couch with a bottle of wine and a bag of pop chips.
It's a real problem. She's falling for him. He's funny and passionate and a really easy guy to talk to.
Raven is no help when Clarke calls her one night, trying to get some advice.
“Oh wow, I'm Clarke and I’m a model with a pretty impressive paycheck. But I just don't know what to do about the super hot guy I'm having sex with... Life's hard!” Raven jokes, laughing because she thinks she's a damn comedian or something.
“This is serious, Rae. I actually like him. I like his dick and his heart,” Clarke sighs. “I'm screwed.”
“Just tell him.”
“Wow thanks, Yoda,” Clarke scoffs.
“What's the worst that could happen? He doesn't feel the same way so you guys part ways? It's not like you'd see each other on a regular basis if you two weren't booty calling all the time. You can always find another boy toy. Or girl toy.”
“And what do I do about my feelings?”
“That's what tequila is for, honey.”
“How are you so wise?”
“It's my old age,” Raven says.
Clarke rolls her eyes, “You're 25.”
“You're 24, so technically I'm old.”
---
She stares at her phone for a long time after she hangs up with Raven. She has to call him, she has to. She likes him and wants him to know it. She wants him to be her boyfriend. All she can seem to do is stare at his contact and sigh though. His name in her phone is just ‘Bel’ with the taco emoji in front of it. She thought it was pretty funny, but he just seemed unimpressed. She laughed and kissed him until he tugged off her shirt.
Finally she calls him, tapping her fingers against the arm of her couch as she waits for him to pick up.
“Booty call hotline, this is Bellamy speaking. How can I be of service?” he says, answering the call after three rings.
“Hey, think you could come over?”
“Sure,” he says brightly. She can picture the smile he has on his face right now, it makes her smile too. Damn she is so into him. “I'll be there in fifteen.”
The next fifteen minutes of her life are pretty stressful. She'd bite her nails if she hadn't just gotten a manicure.
When there is finally a knock on her door, she stands to answer it, wiping her sweaty palms on her leggings.
“Hey,” he says, his voice deep. He leans down to kiss her and she almost lets him before remembering why she called him. She stops him with a hand on his chest. “Everything okay?”
She nods. “I just- I thought we could talk for a minute?”
The look on his face is serious, maybe even a little scared...
She leads him over to the couch and sits with her legs tucked under her. His hand rests on his thigh and she picks it up to lace their fingers together.
“So,” she says. Might as well get this over with before I love my nerve. “I have feelings for you.”
“That's it?”
“Yeah... That's it...”
“Oh thank god,” he says. He visibly relaxes and she is just really confused. “I thought you were going to say you wanted to end this.”
“What?”
“You said you wanted to talk and you sounded all serious and determined.” He shifts them on the couch so she's laying down and he's hovering over her.
“So you don't want to end this?” she asks, feeling a little self conscious even though he's on top of her. She needs him to say it. Say something.
“God no.” He must notice how nervous she is because he kisses her nose and offers her a smile. “We watched a movie at my apartment with several fuzzy blankets. I bought pop chips for you, Princess. I have feelings for you too.”
“So I'm just like, really oblivious?”
“Little bit,” he says. And then he's kissing her.
It's slow and sweet like he wants it to last forever. She wouldn't have a problem with that. It shouldn't feel any different this time but it does. She tangles her fingers in his curls and he kisses her breast until he leaves a mark eventually, something he never dared to do before. It's still a little risky for him to do that because even though Clarke prides herself on being a professional, it might still be a little awkward having a makeup artist cover up a hickey. But then he's kissing her stomach and her thighs and she really doesn't care anymore.
That night they fall asleep in her bed and he doesn't have to rush out in the morning. He can stay and they can spend the day together, watching movies and eating all the pop chips she has in her kitchen.