Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3984166.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      The_100_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Bellamy_Blake/Clarke_Griffin
  Character:
      Bellamy_Blake, Clarke_Griffin
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_High_School
  Series:
      Part 8 of Neeeeeeeeeerds
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-05-22 Words: 2568
****** Does She Go Dum-Di-Di? ******
by Chash
Summary
     Clarke and Bellamy's first time. Well, Clarke's first time. Bellamy's
     first time with Clarke. He might be nervous.
Notes
     Title from The Invention of Love by Tom Stoppard, because I might as
     well go with the Housman theme. Also, again, Clarke is seventeen,
     which I'm not sure really requires the underage tag but, eh, better
     safe than sorry.
Clarke calls at ten a.m. on Saturday and asks, "Hey, what size condoms do you
wear?"
Bellamy chokes on his orange juice, which fucking burns, and Echo and Octavia
look at him with alarm. He pours himself a glass of water and flees for his
room.
"Bellamy?" Clarke prompts.
"Holy shit, you can't just ask me that," he says, once he's safely in private.
"My sister was around!"
"Oh, oops, sorry. I'm at CVS, I thought I'd buy some, but there are so many
brands and the sizes are all relative, and I've only ever seen your dick, and
not for that long, so I'm not really sure how it ranks, comparatively. I didn't
realize the family planning aisle was so overwhelming."
"Why are you buying condoms?"
"Because I'm planning to have sex with you at some point in the near future,"
she says, like it's obvious. Which it is, but--
"I have condoms."
"How many?"
Bellamy flops down on his bed. "Exactly how much sex are you planning to have
with me between now and the next time I go to the drug store, Princess?"
"That depends on how many condoms you have."
He rolls over and roots through his dresser, finding the box of condoms he
bought back when he moved here four years ago. He was pretty optimistic about
how much he'd get laid back then, not realizing how little time he'd have and
how often he'd pick doing JCL stuff with Clarke over the opportunity to hook
up, so the large box is still mostly full.
"I've got--" he starts, and then groans. "Shit."
"What?"
"Mine are expired."
"So just tell me what kind they are and I'll get more. Why are you so against
me buying condoms, exactly?"
He rubs his face. "What if your mom finds them and bans me from your house? I
feel like she finally kind of likes me, I don't want to fuck that up."
There's a pause long enough it's actually scary, and then she says, "Yeah, she
already took me to the doctor to get on the pill. I don't think she's going to
freak out if she finds condoms. She'll probably be proud we're using multiple
forms of birth control."
"Oh," he says, feeling his cheeks heat up. "Well, uh, I get--" he checks the
name on the box of condoms and gives it to her. "So far I haven't gotten anyone
pregnant, so they're probably a good choice." He pauses. "Is it a coincidence
that you're buying condoms on my day off, or do we have plans I don't know
about?"
"My mom is thinking of taking a shopping trip," she says. "I'll call you if I
can get out of going with her. Bye!"
He sort of stares at the phone for a minute and then rubs his his hand over his
eyes. It's not like he doesn't want to have sex with her. He totally does. It's
just--what if she doesn't like it?
He briefly considers talking to someone about the whole thing, but he can't
imagine having a serious conversation with Miller or Wick about his sexual
insecurities, and Raven would be even worse. Raven would probably scar him for
life.
On the bright side, he can imagine having that conversation with Clarke, at
least if it's in person. She'll probably tell him he's being an idiot, and
he'll feel better. So when she texts an hour later and says, I am free ALL DAY
no shopping come over!!, he's not even that nervous.
Really.
*
Clarke answers the door in a pair of insanely tiny shorts and an old paint-
stained t-shirt, with her hair up in a messy bun.
"Do you do this on purpose?" he asks, after he finishes kissing her. Kissing
her was obviously the priority.
"I was painting," she says. "But also yes. You're into me! It's cool."
He shakes his head. "You suck."
"Definitely on my list of things to try," she says, cheerful, and Bellamy
chokes on nothing. She laughs. "You know you're kind of a prude?"
"Just around you," he says.
"Which makes no sense. I'm the last person you should be prudish around."
"I know."
Some of his discomfort must show, because she sobers. "Did I do something
wrong? Is asking about condom size rude? Because you looked, um--very
proportional. I was totally thinking XL."
He has to laugh at that. "No, you're fine." He runs his hand through his hair.
"I'm nervous," he admits. "About sleeping with you."
She blinks a few times, clearly taken aback. "Nervous?"
"What if you don't like it?" he blurts out.
She takes him by the hand and tugs him over to the sofa so they can sit. She
snuggles up against his side, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I liked
the last time you got me off. Like, a lot. And I've heard you're good at this.
I don't think you have anything to worry about."
"Wait, you heard what? Who told you that?"
"Roma."
"Jesus, why were you and Roma talking about how I am in bed?"
She squeezes his hand. "She was actually looking out for me, I think. At the
Halloween dance last year, she told me I shouldn't get my hopes up about dating
you, but if I just wanted to get laid you were, um. A good choice."
He groans, laughing a little. "Fuck. I didn't know that was a thing."
"Again, she was saying good things. Nothing but praise for your skills."
"Yeah, but--" He looks down at her. "Obviously, I'd rather anyone who was
sleeping with me had a good time, but--I didn't worry about it that much when I
was just fooling around with random girls." He pulls a face. "Although if I'd
known Roma would tell you about it, I would have worried more."
"How many random girls have you fooled around with?" she asks. She doesn't
sound jealous, just curious.
"Uh, I guess--I've had, like, sex-sex with four girls. And just fooled around
with three more."
"And you're worried about me?" She sounds pleased about it, and he pokes her.
"Sorry! But it's cute."
"It's dumb," he says, petulant. "I really want to sleep with you."
She kisses him. "What exactly do you think is going to happen if the first time
we have sex isn't great?"
"I'll die of shame." She nudges him with her foot, and he relents. "I don't
know. It'll suck."
"If it sucks the first time, we'll get better," she says. "I'm not going to
dump you if I don't get enough orgasms. I love you." She grins. "And if you
don't get me off, you know, during, you can just eat me out again. That was
awesome."
He has to laugh. "Yeah, I'm getting the impression you were into it," he
teases.
"Come on," she says, tugging him up. "We're gonna go make out until you feel
better."
"Or until we just have sex," he says.
"You'd probably feel better if we did," Clarke says, pragmatic as always.
"Seriously, Bell, stressing out about it isn't going to help. It makes it a
bigger deal than it is."
"It's your first time," he points out. "That's a big deal."
"It's not like I've never had anything up there before," she says, and he trips
on his feet and nearly falls over. She shoots him a grin. "What?"
"What have you had up there?" he asks.
"Fingers, vibrators. I have gotten myself off before."
He licks his lips. "Oh. Fuck."
"Please don't tell me you're worried about not living up to the high standards
set by my hands. You being involved is a big improvement all by itself."
It's a good thing they're in her room, because the only possible response to
that is to push her down onto the bed and kiss her breathless.
She gasps out a laugh. "So, uh, not upset," she teases.
"That's really fucking hot," he says.
"I always think about you," she says, all innocence. "I bought my first
vibrator because of the whole lifeguard thing."
He swallows hard, looking down at her. "Yeah?"
"Who else would I think about?"
He kisses her again, hot and desperate, and slides his hand into her shorts,
finds she's already getting wet. "I really love you," he tells her. "Like,
fuck. A lot."
She laughs and pulls his shirt off. "Me too." She runs her fingers up over the
ridges of his stomach. "A lot." He nuzzles her collarbone, and she moans
appreciatively and slides her leg over his. "See?" she says. "Making out
helps."
"You're a genius," he tells her, and gets her out of her shirt and bra. And
then it's easy for a while because he's been wanting to get his hands on her
breasts for years, and he has every intention of spending a long time with
them.
She's appreciative too, vocal like she was when he ate her out, breathless
praise that does wonders for his ego. And then she says, "God, I think about
your hands a lot," and everything is fucking amazing.
"Yeah?" he asks, smirking up from between her breasts.
"I think about all of you," she says, open and honest, easy. "But--hands are
easiest, because when I'm touching myself I just pretend it's you. Which is a
lot less satisfying now that I know how good you feel, by the way."
He laughs and slides his hand back into her shorts, teasing her clit with his
fingers. "I'm ruining you for yourself?"
"Pretty much." She shifts, pushing against his hand. "Come on, Bellamy."
"Come on what?"
"I don't know, more." She slides the shorts and her underwear off, and she's
naked. Naked Clarke is fucking amazing, and he gets kind of distracted just
staring at her. She huffs. "Fine." She rolls them over, tugs off his cargo
shorts and boxers, and grins. "If you're not going to get me off, I'm going to
get you off."
"Oh," he says, vaguely. "Yeah. Great."
She worries her lip. "Um, tell me if I, like--I assume it's pretty easy, but
just tell me if I could be doing something better." And then she leans in and
swirls her tongue around the head of his dick, not even tentative, just diving
right in, because she's Clarke, and of course she's not nervous. She's excited
to try something new.
"Fuck," he breathes. Clarke approaches blowjobs with the same attitude she
approaches any unfamiliar activity--she assumes she'll be great at it, it's
just a matter of figuring it out. And, okay, Clarke Griffin testing the feel of
every inch of his dick with her mouth and hands is just about the best thing of
all time.
"I'm gonna come if you're not careful," he manages, when she pulls back to
consider her next move.
"Cool," she says, and decides to see if she can deep throat. She can't, but she
seems happy to go as far as she can while she works the base of his dick with
her hand. It's messy and a little sloppy and absolutely fucking great.
"I'm going to come in your mouth," he tells her. It's supposed to be a warning,
but it comes out as more of a whine.
She doesn't stop, so he does, and she coughs a little and gets some come on her
face, but she looks proud of herself. He drags her up for a very thorough kiss.
She tastes like jizz.
"That was awesome," she says, with feeling. "I like sucking dick."
"You might be perfect," he says.
"I might," she agrees, and he gets her off with his fingers while they make
out. "You're pretty great too," she comments, head pillowed on his chest.
"I try." He kisses her hair. "When's your mom getting home?"
"She said not til after dinner. She's going to the outlet mall, that always
takes forever." She yawns and snuggles closer. "I'm taking a nap. Still
jetlagged."
"You're the worst hostess ever," he teases.
"I did suck your dick."
"You did," he grants.
He naps a little too, and stares at her boobs for a while, which is probably
creepy, but, god, she looks really good naked. And she's lying on him. What
else is he supposed to do? He doesn't want to wake her up to get a book or
something.
He's half hard when she wakes up around three, and the first thing she does is
roll on top of him and grind against his dick, so he has no chance, pretty
much. They make out for ten minutes, hot and wet, before she gasps out,
"Condoms on the night stand," and he flails over to grab one. "Good?" she asks,
watching as he opens it.
"You're very convincing. You want to be on top?"
"Sure," she says.
"You do like being in charge," he teases, and rolls the condom on. He can't
help feeling nervous still, but it's anticipation as much as anxiety.
She bites her lip as she slides down, taking time to adjust, and Bellamy mostly
tries to stay still. It's been a while--Roma was the last girl he slept with,
last summer--and he has to put some effort into not speeding things up. She
feels so fucking good.
"Oh," she says, soft, when he's all the way in, and there's an agonizing moment
of stillness before she starts riding him. It's irregular, experimental; she'll
go fast and then try slow, testing the feel of each, and he has to laugh.
"I feel like a science project," he says, stroking her hipbone with his thumb.
"This is fucking awesome," she says, and kisses him, settling into a steady
pace that's not quite fast enough for him. Which at least means he maybe won't
come embarrassingly quickly. He slides his hand up to rub her clit, out of
rhythm, and it makes her speed up to match him. She's swearing under her
breath, right against his neck, and he loves her an embarrassing amount.
She comes first, barely, and he considers it a victory. He probably didn't
screw up too badly. He rolls them over to finish off, driving into her hard and
making her gasp and giggle.
"You shouldn't laugh at guys during sex," he remarks, after he comes. He wraps
her up in his arms, and she sighs, content.
"I was laughing with you during sex," she says. Before he can respond, she
adds, "I was just really happy."
She makes them quesadillas for dinner, and they eat in front of the couch,
fully clothed in case her mom comes home.
"So, you're not nervous anymore, right? Because I am totally satisfied with my
first time."
"I'm good," he says. "I wasn't even trying that hard. If that's all it takes--
" She laughs and shoves him. "Really, I feel better," he says, kissing her
hair. "You're right, I was being stupid."
"I'm always right."
"I'm not willing to go that far yet."
She laughs and tucks herself closer against him. "Agree to disagree."
They're quiet for a while, watching TV, but he finally has to ask, "I wasn't
really paying attention, how many condoms did you buy?"
"I dunno, the biggest box. I didn't check the exact count."
Bellamy laughs and kisses her. "Seriously, I love you."
"Yeah," she says, smug. "You do."
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