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Bellamy Blake was nearly 30 years old, and he was absolutely not embarrassed that it was his first time being in a serious relationship. Or any relationship of the romantic persuasion to be accurate. It wasn’t a bad thing, despite all the hell Octavia likes to give him. In high school and college he didn’t have the time. Not with trying to raise Octavia, get through school, and somehow pay for it all. After that he just hadn’t. Not that he was opposed to the idea of being with someone, but he just hadn’t found anyone he wanted it with.
It’s not like he was lonely. He had his sister and Miller, whom he’d known since they were kids. He had Raven, who he met in college, and even O’s friend’s, Monty, Jasper, and Harper were people he would consider his friends. He got laid regularly enough, whether he had a recurring causal fling or a string of one-night stands. All in all, he was plenty happy.
Then he met Clarke Griffin.
Raven had introduced Clarke to the group at The Dropship one night. Every other Friday they all met there for drinks and pool, and once a month karaoke. The week before she had found out Finn was cheating on her, something he and Miller had beat the guy up for. She had explained bluntly that Finn was an ass, but had great taste, so she decided to keep his other girlfriend.
Everyone had eyed the blonde cautiously, unsure what to think. Raven had just rolled her eyes and whispered in Clarke’s ear. She gave Raven a week smile and took a seat next to Octavia. He couldn’t understand why Raven wanted to be friends the woman who sleep with her fiancé, but he sure as well wasn’t going to.
As everyone slowly warmed up to Clarke, Bellamy kept quite and listened carefully. They asked her questions about herself, the answers to which Bellamy pulled a few facts. She was rich, privileged, and had grown up that way. Once he decided to start talking they had long since moved on from the questioning. He was rude and snappy to her, to which she responded in kind. They went to the brink of what he could only imagine would be an epic argument several times, only for her to suddenly shut it off, smiling sweetly and turning to talk to someone else. He hated her.
At the end of the night, Raven pulled him aside outside of the bar as their friends began flagging down cabs. “What’s your problem?” She demanded, arms crossed over her chest and chin raised expectantly. “My problem? You’re the one who wants to be friends with the privileged little princess that slept with your man.” He spits without thinking. As soon as he registers the words he regrets them. “Raven-“ He stars but she raises a hand for him to stop.
In the dim lights he can barely make out her face, hurt and determination grace her features, but there’s something else too. “Clarke is my friend, and everyone else seems to like her too. You don’t like her, that’s fine. But don’t hate her before you know her and don’t,” She points at him, “Don’t blame her for what Finn did.” He looks down, ashamed of how he was acting. “Alright, I’m sorry.” He mumbles, the guilt creeping in. “Don’t be sorry to me.” She says with a sigh, “I’ll text you Clarke’s number, you can apologies to her.”
He had called her the next day. After what was an extremely awkward apology on his part and some rather sarcastic comments on hers, they ended up talking for well over an hour. It turned out that after he got over that she was with Finn and born into money, he really liked her. She had a dry sense of humor, much like him, and tended to be a little too sarcastic, much like him. They both liked to argue, but as long as he remembered to argue fact and not just hurtful accusations it was more fun than anything.
They kept talking all week, and eventually he asked her out. He had decided to ask Raven’s permission first, to which she punched him and asked when he was going back to the 1500’s. Clarke worked the night shifts in the ER most nights, so they went to lunch. They bickered lightheartedly and teased each other mercilessly, but it was the most fun he had ever had on a date.
It took less then a month of dates for them to become officially together. And Bellamy had his first real girlfriend. Things were good, they were easy together, comfortable like they’d been doing this for years instead of weeks. He didn’t miss the causal sex like he thought he might, and Clarke was more then enough.
Two months into their relationship, they had their first real, all hands down fight.
“It was just a question Bellamy! You don’t have to be all defensive!” She yelled across her kitchen. “Well what the hell kind of question is it? You think I need you to remind me I’m broke?” He yelled back, hands slamming on the island between them. “I wasn’t trying to! I was trying to help, but god forbid you accept it!” Her chest heaved from yelling, something they’d been doing for over an hour. “Really? It seems to me like you’re throwing around your mommy’s money. Do you try to buy everybody or just the people you sleep with?” Her face goes even redder then it was, hurt showing all over it, but he can’t stop now.
“Did Finn buy into it? Is that what it took to get him to cheat on Raven, your money?” He knows it’s wrong, and stupid, but he cant stop himself. He’s too angry, too embarrassed by his situation. “Get out.” She says so quietly he almost doesn’t hear it. “What?” He half asks, half demands. “Get out.” She growls, eyes alight with a mix of anger and hurt he’s never seen before.
“Gladly.” He says after a moment of deliberation, and storms out of the apartment. He’s fuming, and not quite thinking clearly. He means to go to home and cool off. But he’s on autopilot. By the time he realizes where he’s going, he’s already at Roma’s. She was his last fling, having ended it when he started dating Clarke.
He doesn’t think about Clarke, he doesn’t think about the fight or the look betrayal on her face. He just knocks, and when she answers, kisses her. She doesn’t ask questions, just leads him to her room and mumbles about it being too long. He’s still not thinking, just doing, doing until all he feels is her and the building of an orgasm.
When it’s over, he lies back in her bed and closes his eyes. She lies her head on his chest and like a switch he remembers. He thinks. Why he’s here, why he shouldn’t be. He has to open his eyes because all he sees is Clarke with that hurt look on her beautiful face. Guilt like he hasn’t felt since his last big fight with O, over two years ago, floods every inch of him.
“I have to go.” He extracts himself from her, quickly dressing and ignoring her gentle plea for him to just come back to bed. He tries to go back on autopilot, to not feel or think but he can’t. The guilt lands in his gut and stirs until he’s physically sick. He reaches the house he shares with Octavia, only to puke in the bushes. It’s not just having cheated, but also the things he said to her. She really was just trying to help, he knows this, knows all she every wants to do is help.
When he opens the door, Octavia is on the phone in the living room. “Yeah I haven’t seen- oh he’s right here.” She smiles when she sees him, “It’s Miller, says you were suppose to meet him for drinks later and you aren’t answering your phone.” She holds her cell out to him, giving him concerned look when he doesn’t take it. She meets his eyes and he watch’s hers widen in recognition. “I’ll tell him, bye Miller.” She says into the phone.
She puts the phone in her pocket. Her face softens and worry spreads through her eyes. “Miller canceled drinks, new boyfriend or something. You okay big brother?” She asks kindly. He hates himself a little more, because she’s so worried and she’s friends with Clarke. “I got in a fight with Clarke.” He tells her, because if he knows anything it’s to be honest with Octavia. “It’s alright, I’ll make some of that tea mom used to and-“ She begins the short walk to the kitchen. “Then I cheated on her.”
She freezes in her path. He braces himself for her to turn and yell. To tell him how stupid he is and demand he fix this. “Shit, we’re going to need something stronger then tea.”
He wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache. Octavia had brought out a bottle of whisky, then another, and then all the beer from the fridge. He’s vaguely aware of crying like a little girl, and letting his sister paint his toenails, possibly at the same time. He wishes he couldn’t remember yesterday, but he does. He remembers too well.
He showers and brushes his teeth, but he still feels disgusting. Octavia’s not up yet, so he makes toast and eggs and eats by himself, putting the leftovers in the microwave for her. He sits on the couch starring at nothing for a while, before deciding to get his phone. It takes him a good five minutes to find it. He has eight missed calls from Miller, and one from Clarke. Clarke also left a voicemail, so he ignores the sickening guilt and listens to it.
“Hey Bell, I figured you wouldn’t pick up. I just wanted you to know I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you or hurt you or, well anything really. I want you to know I’m here for you though, if you ever do want help. But I won’t offer again, at least not about money. This thing we have, it’s important to me, you’re important to me. I’m- well I’m kind of rambling. Just, call me? Or come over. I’ll see you later, bye Bellamy.”
When the voicemail ends, he fights the urge to throw his phone against the wall. It’s not his phones fault; it’s no ones but his. With a sigh of regret, he sends two texts, one to Octavia telling her he’s headed out and there’s food for her in the microwave The other is to Clarke, telling her he’s on his way over.
He stops at a flower stand on the way to her apartment and buys some daisies. By the time he’s reached her door, he’s convinced himself the right thing to do is just tell her. Of course, then she opens the door.
Her eyes are red and puffy from crying. If possible, he feels even guiltier. She has concealer on, so she must have tried to hide that from him. She’s in the same shirt as yesterday, but her jeans have been replaced with grey sweatpants. Her eyes dart to the flowers, then back up to him. “I’m an asshole.” He says as he hands her the bouquet. She smiles a little sadly, but accepts them and lets him in.
“I’m sorry.” He begins as she busies herself with putting the flowers in a vase. “I shouldn’t have said those things, or started a fight in the first place for that matter.” She’s looking at him now, face blank and arms crossed over her chest. “It was stupid and wrong.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry too.” She says softly, her face now kind. He feels the guilt all too keenly, and again he begins to feel physically sick. “I forgive you.” She says then, and it’s like a punch in the gut when it should be relief.
“You shouldn’t” He chokes out. He has to tell her, he knows he does. But he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t want to loose her. He has an extremely hard time saying his next sentence, “I slept with someone.” There, he said it.
The world seems to freeze, and he can’t look at her so he looks at his feet. He hears her sharp intake of breath, then hears her release it. “Who.” She says, voice watery and low. He swallows thickly, “Roma, we used to- but I hadn’t since you, but last night-“ He stops, forces himself to look at her. Her eyes have glossed over, and she looks so hurt. Much more then yesterday, though he had thought that wasn’t possible.
She lets out a dejected huff, “So one fight and that’s it, you’re done?” He raises his hands to touch her, but thinks better of it. “No, god no. I was just, I don’t even know. But I regretted it as soon as it happened, and I, I don’t want this, us to be done. I just-” He searches her face, “I made a mistake, and I’m so, so sorry.” She studies him for a moment, he doesn’t move, doesn’t even breathe.
“Okay.” She says after the longest moment of his life. “Okay?” He echoes. “Okay, I’m going to need some time to, to get over being hurt, but.” She smiles softly, “I forgive you.” It’s the relief he was hopping for, flooding his body as she forgives him. “Thank you.” He says with a hoarse voice. “Don’t thank me just, promise you won’t do it again.”
“I promise.” He says quickly. “I promise Clarke. I-“ He reaches for her but freezes. She takes a moment before speaking, “You can touch me Bellamy. I’m not-“ She’s cut off by his embrace, her face buried in his chest as he hugs her. He pulls back just enough to look at her face. “Can I take you to lunch? Or does time mean I leave?” He really wishes he could undo it, but he figures being better is the next best thing.
“You can take me to lunch.” She says with a smile. He leans in to kiss her, so happy he hasn’t lost her, but she pulls away. He’s confused for a moment before he remembers. With a blush on his cheeks he mummer’s apologies. “It’s okay, just, a little time?” She wraps her arms around him and hugs him tightly as he nods.
He made a mistake, and he knows he’ll make more. But he’ll never the same one twice. Bellamy’s may be in his first relationship, but with any luck it’ll be his last too.