Chapter Text
January 2nd, 2016
The day after New Year’s Clarke found herself getting ready for a second night of partying in Montreal…at a gay bar. Montreal might not have been Clarke’s first choice – she was hoping for Vegas or maybe New Orleans – but Octavia wasn’t 21 yet so Montreal it was. By some stroke of luck, or perhaps it was fate as Clarke would later say, that she and Octavia bumped into a lesbian couple that Clarke recognized from Tumblr. The four girls got to talking and Jenny suggested they check out Club Unity, one of the more popular gay clubs downtown. As soon as she heard that, there had been no stopping Octavia from deciding that that was their party destination for the following night. Raven had tried to argue that they should go somewhere else but one death glare later from Octavia and the matter was settled.
For the umpteenth time that night Clarke glances at her reflection in the mirror, trying to find any little imperfections. She let Octavia pick out her outfit and she has to admit, she looks hot – unsurprising though because Octavia is a fashion goddess. She had dressed Clarke in a blue button up (“It makes your eyes pop”), khaki colored jeans (“Clarke these were your only paint free pants in your suitcase, seriously why are all your pants covered in paint! But your butt also looks phenomenal in them”) and Clarke’s new pair of timberlands (“Clarke if I was into girls I would fuck you in this outfit.”) The moment Raven steps out of the bathroom and sees Clarke’s outfit she can’t stop laughing.
“You’re a real lesbian now,” she says her words nearly lost in laughter.
“Fuck you,” Clarke huffs angrily, her smile betraying her.
Sighing as she steps into the cool night air, Clarke feels her body instantly cool down; they hadn’t even made it to the club yet but Clarke’s veins were already coursing with copious amounts of alcohol. She was drunk - Octavia, Raven and Harper had egged her on with ‘one more shot!’ after nearly every shot, not messing around when it came to pre-gaming. She couldn’t tell if her stomach was rolling with nerves or too much booze. Clarke would never openly admit that she was feeling anxious about going to her first gay club and the matter was only made worse by the fact that Raven liked to call her ‘baby gay.’
As they stumbled down the snowy Montreal streets, Clarke gets lost in her own drunken head wondering why Montreal doesn’t have a Taco Bell. The one food Clarke is craving above all others.
“Oh my god!” Harper squeals, pulling Clarke from her taco thoughts. Following Octavia’s gaze, Clarkes jaw drops when she sees that the side of the building is covered in pictures of men with washboard abs and very little, if any, clothing.
“We’re here bitches!” Octavia yells before pulling the door open and ushering them inside. Clarke suddenly feels very sober, her mouth is dry and she is definitely ready for another drink….or six. Harper leads them up the stairs and pulls the door at the top open; Where Are U Now explodes in their ears the bass reverberating through their chests and strobe lights blinding them.
The second Clarke hands her jacket to the coat check, Octavia grabs her hand dragging her to the dance floor. Harper and Raven make a bee line for the bar, the promise of tequila shots flying from their lips.
Across from the bar is a flashing neon sign that reads “Jell-O Shots”, the knot that had formed in Clarkes stomach loosens slightly – nothing soothed Clarke’s nerves like Jell-O Shots and tequila. Her eyes fall to the bartender working the table and Clarke nearly forgets how to breathe. Her feet stop moving and Clarke swears that her heart actually stops beating for a moment. Clarke pulls back on Octavia’s arm, stopping her from moving further onto the dance floor. Octavia looks at her, confusion written all over her face but Clarke only has eyes for the bartender. The bartender has long wavy brown hair that is tucked beneath a snapback, forearm tattoos that are only noticeable because the sleeves of her flannel are rolled. The moment Clarke’s heart starts beating again she decides that the bartender is the most beautiful person she has ever seen.
“O,” Clarke says grasping Octavia’s arm.
“What?”
“Look at the bartender…” Clarke’s voice heavy with admiration.
“Come on Casanova, let’s get you a drink. Also you should maybe wipe that drool off your chin,” Octavia teases as she drags Clarke over to Raven and Harper. Clarke quickly snaps her slack jaw close, wiping at her chin only to realize that Octavia was lying about her drooling.
“To a kick ass night and hopefully getting laid!” Raven yells toasting their tequila shots.
“Fuck yeah!” Harper yells back.
“To having a hot as shit boyfriend,” Octavia yells receiving a death glare from Raven but laughs from Harper and Clarke. Octavia just shrugs her shoulders unapologetically, she was happy with Lincoln and as far as Clarke was concerned that was all that mattered.
“Let’s get fucked up,” Clarke says with a laugh. She savors the way the tequila burns her throat as it flows down into her belly, filling her with liquid courage. Raven orders a second round of tequila shots while Clarke stares longingly at the Jell-O Shot bartender, nicknaming her Hot Bartender, a nickname she has rightfully earned in Clarkes mind. She drags Raven onto the dance floor as soon as their empty tequila glasses hit the counter. Feeling encouraged by all the liquor rolling around her belly, Clarke grabs Ravens hips and pulls the girl against her grinding into her ass. It was a strategic move on Clarkes part, she knew how great her ass looked when she danced and so what if she had purposefully placed herself so that her ass was in that direction. No one had to know. And also Clarke didn’t want to be a creeper and stare at her all night.
Clarke needed tonight. She needed to have fun with three of her best friends, she needed to just feel happy. Ever since graduating and moving to NYC with Raven, Clarke barely saw Octavia and Harper who were finishing up their last year at Arkcadia – Clarke was secretly hoping that after they graduated they would move to NYC as well. Going from seeing the two every day to barely once every two months had put Clarke in a perpetual bad mood, not to mention post-graduation life kind of sucked. People weren’t kidding when they said college was the best time of their life. Clarke missed college, she missed her friends, she missed Arkcadia’s college town and mostly she missed feeling like a teenager rather than the adult she was now supposed to be.
They dance for nearly an hour before Octavia demands Jell-O shots and Clarke can’t agree more. Following Octavia they dance their way across the floor, moving between the sweaty gyrating bodies but when they near the table Octavia grabs Clarke and shoves her forward. Clarke stumbles into the table and feels her cheeks heat with embarrassment. Hot Bartender looks up from her phone and eyes Clarke, her expression slightly irritated obviously thinking that Clarke was just another drunk stumbling partier – she totally was. Clarke met her gaze, feeling her cheeks heat even more, the bartender was even more attractive up close. She orders four Jell-O shots, placing a hand on Harper’s forearm, stopping the girl from taking her wallet out.
“I got this.”
“Thanks Clarkey,” Harper says as she throws her shot back.
When Hot Bartender slides the change back across the table, Clarke just pushes it back, making eye contact with her again and smirking slightly. Challenging her to say no to the tip, even though Clarke wants her to accept it.
Clarke is dragged back onto the dance floor but this time they are on the edge of the circle, yelling the lyrics to the songs they know dancing against one another with nothing but smiles on their faces. For maybe the hundredth time that night Clarke has to fight the urge to look at Hot Bartender.
“You should just go talk to her dude,” Octavia yells into her ear.
Clarke shakes her head before yelling back, “She might not be gay!”
And before Clarke can stop her Octavia is turning around and walking over to Hot Bartender, Clarke forcing her eye sight everywhere else but on the two girls. In the blink of an eye Octavia is back beside Clarke dancing, curiosity nearly causing Clarke to burst into flames.
“What did you just do?”
“Asked her if she was gay.”
“Octavia! You can’t just ask people if they are gay!” But Clarke is dying to know the answer, “Is she?”
“Yep,” Octavia replies with a wink before dragging Raven and Harper further into the dancing mosh pit. Taking a deep breath Clarke walks back over to Hot Bartender and orders two more Jell-O shots. When she is handed both cups, Clarke holds one out to the girl who takes it with a smirk. They toast their shots before tipping the fiery Jell-O down, Clarke's face showing just how strong the alcohol burns her insides. Again she pushes her change back across the table as a tip for the girl.
Clarke continues to buy Hot Bartender and herself multiple shots throughout the evening, each time she arrives at the table the girl smirks at her causing Clarke’s stomach to erupt in butterflies and her cheeks to flush red. The fifth time Clarke goes up to the table she is exceptionally drunk and convinced that she will end her night with her face in the hotel toilet, but because she is doubtful that she will remember the evening, she is feeling quite bold. Leaning over the table Clarke talks into the girls’ ear.
“What time do you get off?”
The girl looks at her watch and holds up two fingers, looking at her own watch Clarke realizes that it’s only a little after midnight. She had two hours to gather her courage and make a real move on Hot Bartender, Clarke could do it. No I will do it, Clarke tells herself. Two hours to kill, totally possible – she would just focus on her friends and push all thoughts of the bartender aside until the girl was done with work. That is easier said than done, Clarke couldn’t resist going back to the table three more times for shots, her total jell-o shot count was up to eight plus the two tequila shots on top of the four she took in the hotel earlier. Luckily Octavia had already forced Clarke to drink two full glasses of water so Clarke was feeling slightly better than she would normally after fourteen shots (her current record was sixteen but Clarke didn’t want to try and set any new records tonight, not if she was going to try and talk to Hot Bartender for real) Clarke found her gaze constantly shifting over to her and a few times Hot Bartender caught her staring, Clarke swore that one time the girl even bit her lip when she noticed Clarke's gaze.
Once again Clarke tears her gaze away from the bartender and instead focuses on the way Octavia and Harper were sandwiching her, grinding themselves into her front and back. She couldn’t resist moving her hips in time with them, smiling widely at Octavia who was pressed against her front. Before she knows it, its 2:30am and Clarke is ready to make her move but a quick glance over to the girls table causes her stomach to sink. The bartender is gone and Clarke has missed her chance.
“O, she left,” Clarke says pushing her bottom lip into a pout. Octavia glances over to where the girl used to be frowning slightly before fixing her features into a determined glare. Clarke had seen this expression before, it usually meant Octavia got what she wanted.
“Fuck that,” Octavia states as she stomps off the dance floor towards one of the security guards. Clarke follows at a distance, knowing better than to get in Octavia’s way when she is on a mission. She watches as Octavia taps him on the shoulder before energetically talking into his ear saying something that causes him to glance at Clarke with a smirk before walking into the employees’ only area of the club. Octavia all but skips back over to Clarke with a smile on her face.
“She’ll be right out.”
“O! What did you do” Clarke asks her stomach clenching nervously trying to control the rising panic that she feels crawling up her insides.
“I told the security guard that you were looking for the bartender. Now you have no excuse not to talk to her.” She says before she dancing her way back onto the floor, leaving Clarke alone and nervous. She has no idea what she is going to say. Five minutes later Clarkes’ heart gives another noticeable lurch as the bartender walks up to her.
“Were you looking for me?” she asks, her words thick with her French accent. Clarke can only shake her head yes in response, the ability to speak having vanished. Clarke pulls out her phone and types into google translate – feeling extremely ballsy.
I just wanted to tell you youre beautiful // Je voulais juste te dire que tu es belle
Clarke watches the girls face as she reads the message, noticing the slight up tilt of her lips. She takes the phone out of Clarke’s hands and types back.
Arret trop mignon//too cute stop *blushing emoji*
Handing the phone back to Clarke she holds up a finger before running back to the employee section. Clarke stands there trying to figure out what to say next, praying that she doesn’t’ come off as an aggressive lesbian. After a few more moments she comes back carrying two shots, Clarke has no idea how she is supposed to stomach another one. She’s already hammered. But Clarke accepts the shot when its handed to her, toasting with the other girl before swallowing the liquor. Octavia untangles herself from a mosh pit of gay men that have crowned her queen and dances her way over to Clarke. She grabs one of Hot Bartenders hand and places it in Clarkes wagging her eyebrows suggestively and makes hand movements indicating that the two should dance. Clark thinks she sees the bartenders’ cheeks darken slightly but in the strobe lights she can’t be sure. When Octavia realizes that the two won’t dance together she lets out an aggravated huff and goes back to her circle of worshiping gay men. Clarke unlocks her phone and types another Google Translate message.
Do you want to dance? // veux-tu Dancer?
Haha je ne peux pas réellement danser :O // hahah I cannot really dance :O
Clarke doesn’t even think about her next message, she just types it out and presses translate. If her stomach wasn’t so full warm swirling liquid courage, Clarke would have stopped herself from being too forward.
That was just an excuse to be close to you // qui était juste une excuse pour être près de chez vous
Again Clarke watches the girls face as she reads the message, this time Clarke notices the small tint to her cheeks. Inwardly she cheers over the small blush she has earned.
quel est votre nom? // what’s your name?
Clarke // Clarke
Quand pars-tu? // When are you leaving?
Tomorrow :( // Demain :(
She takes the phone from Clarke and goes to the home screen clearly looking for something. Clarke nearly fist pumps the air when she realizes that the bartender is adding herself to Clarke’s contacts.
Lexa Beauchene
1-539-588-2575
(PLEASE DON’T ACTUALLY TRY CALLING THIS NUMBER!!! I HAVE NO IDEA WHO IT IS AND THAT POOR PERSON MIGHT BE REALLY CREEPED OUT)
allez-vous me texte? // are you going to text me?
Clarke wants to yell YES! How could she not text the hottest girl she has ever seen? Instead she just nods her head as Lexa gazes at her, eyes piercing Clarke, chilling and heating her body at the same time. No one has ever looked at Clarke the way Lexa is, Finn maybe, and it’s making her stomach act funny. She can't even think straight (not that she did normally) so her next message is random.
Are you from Montreal? // êtes-vous de Montréal?
Oui. D'où êtes-vous? // Yes. Where are you from?
New York // New York
Wanting to dance was just an excuse to get close to you // Voulant danse était juste une excuse pour se rapprocher de vous
For the second time that night Clarke notices the bartenders cheeks darken with a blush. She takes the phone from Clarke and types out a short message.
tu es mignon // you are cute
She nearly flies at Lexa’s words – Lexa thinks she is cute! Holy macaroni! At this point Clarke is feeling extremely bold, hoping that she doesn’t cross a line with her next message.
Can I kiss you? // puis-je t'embrasser?
peut être ;) // maybe ;)
Clarke doesn’t want to push her luck but she doesn’t want to go down without a fight. With nervous fingers she types out her next message.
How do I turn that maybe to a yes? // Comment puis-je me tourne que peut-être à un oui?
juste essayer, clarke // just try, clarke
Lexa looks up at Clarke just as she finishes reading the message, Clarke is grinning widely, her blue eyes sparkling like stars in the abyss.
“Well alright then,” Clarke says as she wraps a hand around Lexa’s neck pulling her in gently. Their lips connect and Clarke’s world explodes. Lexa tastes like strawberry Jell-O and summer sun, how one can taste like summer in the middle of January has Clarke confused but she doesn’t care. She thinks she might have just found her new favorite flavor – Lexa. Lexa fists the collar of Clarke’s shirt pulling her in until their bodies are pressed tightly together while Clarke wraps her other hand around Lexa’s waist. She sucks Lexa’s bottom lip into her mouth, earning a moan, savoring the taste of her as Lexa’s tongue invades Clarke’s mouth. Their tongues fight for dominance as their lips move in a beautiful dance; hands roaming the others body, pulling, grabbing, anything to get closer, get more of each other. Lexa cups Clarke’s cheek kissing her tenderly, slowing the kissing down allowing them to catch their breath while still keeping their lips attached.
Eventually Lexa pulls away from Clarke who is slow to open her eyes which are heavy with desire. When she finally opens her eyes Lexa is staring at her, studying her face. Clarke also notices that everyone from the club is gone, the music is off and all the lights are on. But in the bright club lights Lexa is even more beautiful than Clarke had imagined. Her lips are red and swollen from their fierce kissing and her forest green eyes are nearly black with hunger.
“I have work,” Lexa says with a frown and Clarke nearly melts into a pile of mush because of her accent. Clarke nods her head in understanding, glancing around hoping that Octavia didn’t leave her at the club alone. But Octavia has disappeared. Clarke nods her head again and turns to walk away but Lexa grabs her hand, pulling her around again. Tenderly she cradles Clarkes face before placing a lingering kiss on her lips which Clarke tries to deepen, wanting more. But Lexa pulls back with heavy lidded eyes and a smirk shaking her head “no” at Clarke and holds out her hand to Clarke. Clarke hands Lexa her phone and reads the message.
texte moi demain? // text me tomorrow?
Only if you answer ;) // seulement si vous répondez ;)
je ferai // i will
Clarke leans in for another kiss, Lexa brushing their noses together. Gently she sucks in Lexa’s bottom lip biting gently. Lexa growls softly and Clarke pulls away with a smirk and a small sigh. She could easily spend the rest of the night (or was it early morning?) Kissing Lexa. Her body shaking with unbridled energy as she walks away, Clarke almost feels the need to recreate the final scene from The Breakfast Club. As she leans against the coat check trying to catch her breath, Octavia crashes into her.
“OHMYGOD!” she cries, a shit eating grin on her face which Clarke can’t resist returning.
“You just made out for like an hour! OH MY GOD!”
“O! I KNOW! Ugh she’s so pretty. No. Hot. She’s so hot. And pretty. But so hooooot – I think I’m in love!” Clarke is shaking with so much excitement that she nearly trips down the stairs before grabbing hold of the hand rail to steady her jelly like legs. Stepping out into the chilly Montreal morning (but really is it morning or night when its after 3am and your drunk and you might have just kissed the love of your life) Octavia pulls a joint out, lights it and takes a deep pull before handing it over to Clarke. Clarke takes a deep pull filling her lungs, hoping that the butterflies in her stomach would relax and her legs will cease their shaking.
“I was going to take a picture to show Raven that you were actually a ballsy motherfucker but then I realized that would be kind of creepy and way to similar to Bell.”
“He only took pictures like twice!” Clarke laughing, sounding loud in the empty streets.
Bellamy had reasoned that he was trying to protect his sister from bad guys, which was why he said it was totally ok that he happened to surveillance two of Octavia’s dates. Clarke loved Bellamy but even she had to admit that he had crossed a line into creepy territory.
“It was still creepy,” she states before taking another long drag, “well Raven is just going to have to believe you when you tell her. Which she probably won’t because you have like no game Clarke.”
“Fuck off Octavia I’ve got game,” Clarke says playfully shoving Octavia, “Raven will believe me because I GOT HER NUMBER!” Her voice ending in a yell, stupidly excited over that fact.
“You got her number!” Octavia sings, twirling in the falling snow.
“I just made out with the hottest girl in Montreal!” Clarke yells to no one in particular. It’s nearly four am and Clarke has never felt more alive, knowing that this is a moment she will remember forever. The feeling of Lexa’s lips against hers, the way the falling snow litters Octavia’s hair or the perfect contentment Clarke has with life in that moment she committed it all to memory. Giggling Clarke takes another pull before handing the joint back to Octavia who takes an even bigger pull before attempting to blow smoke rings through each other. Smoking a joint with Octavia at 4am in a foreign country in the sweet scented air of freshly falling snow just seemed right.
“Best start to 2016,” Octavia yells with a ‘woooooo’ accurately reflecting Clarke’s thoughts
“We’re so drunk,” Clarke states matter-of-factly. They finish the joint before stumbling into the hotel lobby and then into the elevator and out onto their floor. Clarke bursting into the room yelling: “I MADE OUT WITH THE BARTENDER!”
“What?” Harper asks from one of the beds next to a lump of blankets, presumably where Raven is sleeping.
“So.Loud.Sh,” Raven moans.
“I made out with the hottest bartender! ME! I did it!” Clarke slurs her words slightly as she jumps onto the bed, Raven quickly sitting up with fire in her eyes.
“Firstly. We both know I’m the hottest bartender so offense taken Griffin. Secondly. Did you actually make out with her or did you just fantasize about it?”
“Of course you’re the hottest bartender booboo but she is the hottest bartender that I’d want to make out with,” Clarke shoots back, sticking her tongue out at Raven.
“You’d be lucky to kiss these lips Griffin,” Raven spits back with a playful wink.
“And it actually happened. I ACTUALLY KISSED HER! She even gave me her number.” Clarke’s voice unmistakably confident.
“I saw it happen Ray, our little Clarkey is growing up,” Octavia grabbing at her chest looking the part of a wistful mother.
“Shut the front door!”
“The door is closed Raven duh,” Clarke’s drunken mind not grasping the meaning behind Raven’s words as she flops down onto the mattress staring at the ceiling.
“Bed time for Clarkey?” Octavia asks while she strips off her dress and throws on a pair of sweats and tank top.
“Nooooooo! I have to text my future wife. My really hot future wife.”
Octavia and Harper laugh while Raven grumbles about needing her beauty sleep.
“Come on Clarke, let’s get you in pajamas,” Octavia says while pulling Clarke’s pants down.
“O, you just want to get me naked,” Clarke teases propping herself on her elbows to watch Octavia undress her.
“Yes Clarke that has been my evil plan from the beginning,” she states throwing a wink in Clarke’s direction.
“Guys, I really would hate to break up this love fest, but as the wise Samuel L. Jackson once said: ‘Go the fuck to sleep.’ Raven petulantly states, clearly annoyed at being kept till the sun was starting to rise.
“Guys I made out with a really hot bartender.” Clarke states yet again, not over the fact that she, Clarke, made out with someone as attractive as Lexa. After Octavia finishes dressing Clarke, she crawls into bed beside Clarke and turns off the lights plunging the room into near darkness. The room glows faintly with the subtle rays of the impending sunrise. The room is quiet except for the sound of Raven’s soft snoring (“I don’t snore! I just breathe a little heavier when I sleep”) and the quiet hum of the rooms air conditioner. It’s nearly five in the morning and Clarke has never felt like sleeping less. Although her body is heavy with booze, her body is high with excited energy and Clarke won’t deny that she is also extremely horny - she decides that now is the perfect time to text Lexa unwilling to wait until morning (or was it technically already morning with the sun just an hour away from rising)
Clarke
4:47am
Je ne pouvais pas attendre pour le texte vous
(I couldn’t wait to text you)
Lexa
4:52am
Clarke? Right
Oui!
(yes)
You speak French?:O
No! I only know a few words:O
Oh okay :) a speak a little bit English
We can practice ;)
J’ai une bonne raison d’apprendre
francais maintenant
(I have a good reason to learn
French now)
5:02am
I am your raison!!
You go back to New-York tomorrow??
Malheureusement, oui
(unfortunately, yes)
What Time?
5:10am
I’m not sure
I’m going to sleep! Txt me tomorrow :)
take care and see you soon
Fais de beaux reves! :*
(sweet dreams)
5:17am
You too
Belly full of butterflies and affection, Clarke crawls further under the covers falling into a blissful sleep filled with dreams about Jell-O shots, green eyes and lips that last like summer sun.