Bellarke One Shots

Christmas Tree

*NOT MINE, its from the100secretsanta on tumblr*

"Tell me again why I have to spend Christmas Eve with your brother?"
"Because he's brooding and you're brooding."
"I am not brooding," Clarke complains as she passes the marshmallows over to Octavia.
"You are. You have been ever since-"
"Lexa," she finishes. And okay, maybe she has been brooding – a little – but it's not because she hasn't moved on. Because she has. "It's not that, O. I was supposed to spend Christmas with her parents and yeah, I don't really want to go back home to my mom gloating that she was right about our relationship, you know."
"Which I totally get. But I don't wait either of you to be alone on Christmas," she pauses and takes a sip of her hot chocolate. "And he's your friend, so do it for him."
Bellamy is her friend. One of her best-friends, actually. They may not have what some people call a 'normal' friendship, but for them, it works. "This has nothing to do with the fact you feel guilty leaving him alone for Christmas to visit Lincoln's family?"
Octavia scrunches up her nose. "Maybe a little."
"Fine." Clarke rolls her eyes, picks up her mug and heads to the sink.
"Oh and Clarke?"
"Hmm."
"He doesn't have a Christmas tree."

It takes Clarke around twenty minutes to squeeze the Christmas tree into the elevator while the doorman watches her in amusement - jerk. Honestly, if she wasn't so stubborn she would have just trudged up the stairs - it probably would have saved her a lot of time, but alas.
The elevator stops and Clarke wipes the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand, before she pulls the tree out of the elevator – with immense difficulty – and begins to drag it down the hall.
She's sweating and she's also pretty sure her arms about to fall off, so excuse her if she's cursing out loud.
The older woman across from Bellamy's apartment pops her head of her door. "Clarke? Are you okay, dear?"
It takes her a moment but she realises the woman's the one who bakes Bellamy cookies all the time. "Hey, Mrs Burgees. I'm fine, just bringing Bellamy his Christmas tree."
"Oh." The woman smiles sweetly at her. "I'm glad to hear that, it wasn't very christmasy when I was over there earlier. There's some fresh gingerbread men on the table. Don't let them go to waste!"
"Great." Her mouth almost waters. "Of course not, I'll make sure of that. Merry Christmas!"
"And you, dear!"
Clarke pulls Bellamy's key out - the one she's pretty sure stole a few months back - from her front pocket and unlocks the door, using her foot to swing the door open. "Bellamy!" she shouts.
Not even a second later he appears in front of her - he's shirtless and his hairs wet. And in her defence, she tries really really hard to not stare at his bare chest, but she's only human, so.
"Clarke..." he frowns. "What are you doing here? Are you okay?"
She's just about to answer him when he glances behind her and notices the tree. "Is that a Christmas tree?"
"Um. Yeah. I thought since we both have no plans for christmas we could decorate the tree and watch movies and get drunk, or something." She ponders for a moment. "I don't know."
He seems to consider it, then nods. "Octavia put you up to this."
"What? No. Of course not." She tries to laugh it off – waving a hand in front of her. But he's not buying it and she knows it. "Okay. Fine. She did, but this is as much for me as it is for you."
"Put the tree up in the corner then. I'll just go and put a shirt on," he strides off towards his bedroom and she really wants to kick him or something.
"You could have at least pulled the tree in for me, asshat!"
He returns a few minutes later, with a shirt on and Clarke's not sure if that's disappointment she feels. "You," she says breathlessly. "Can lift it up."
"Why aren't you home for Christmas?" He asks her, leaning down to pick up the tree.
Clarke shrugs her jacket off. "Well, I was supposed to be at Lexa's and I really didn't want to have that "I told you so" conversation with my mom, so I never told her we broke up. Where are your decorations?"
"In the cupboard next to the door. At the back."
She pads over to collect the decorations and puts them on the floor next to the tree – reaching into the box to grab the lights. "Why are you alone at Christmas?"
He growls. "You know why."
"Hmm. I know that Octavia invited you to Lincoln's, but you were too stubborn to accept."
Bellamy sighs. "We put up the tree, we bake, we watch movies and then on Christmas day we open our presents and eat as much chocolate as we can before we stuff our faces with mac n cheese. It might not be the traditional way to celebrate it, but it's our way. And she's not here."
"Sometimes things change." She shrugs. "Maybe we could do it together instead. Or, make our own tradition?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'd like that."
While untangling the lights they had been getting on really well, so it didn't surprise her when things turned into some weird argument and top and bottom.
"So we'll start from the top," Clarke explains.
"No, everyone always starts from the bottom."
"Top."
"Bottom."
He's infuriating. "For god sake Bellamy. Stop being awkward. I'm starting from the top."
"Well I'm starting from the bottom." He's smirking and it's only making her angrier.
"Fine."
"Fine."
"Fine."
Clarke's pretty sure this isn't going to work, but there's no way she's letting him win this one, so she grabs the stepping box and starts from the top.
She only manages to wrap the lights round the tree three times when there's a crashing noise and she looks down at Bellamy – who's currently flat on the floor with lights bundled at his feet – when she realises it's definitely not working.
If she was a better person she'd probably not laugh, but she's not and it's really funny.
"Are you done?" Bellamy asks when her laughter subsides.
She has to bite her tongue. "How the hell did you end up on the floor?"
There's a crease in his forehead. It's cute, actually. "I told you going from the top wouldn't work. You pulled the lights and they were around my feet."
Clarke literally chokes on her laughter, then feels bad so she steps down to offer him her hand, but Bellamy's an asshole and she should have known. He pulls her down and she falls on top off him. "Ugh! You're a jerk."
His chest shakes under her with laughter. "I've been called worse, but it was worth it."
She hums and lifts her head from his chest, her eyes catching his lips – soft, warm, inviting.
I'm glad you came," he whispers so low that if she hadn't been watching his lips move she might not be sure he even said anything.
She drags her eyes from his lips to his eyes. "Me too."
Screw it, she thinks and crashes her lips against his. It's awkward at first – her nose bumps his and the angle is all off, but then his hands are on her cheeks and he guides her so it's just right. Perfect, actually. And now she's wondering why they hell they haven't done this before.
It's short and sweet, but exactly what she needs. And when they pull away he has the biggest smile she's ever seen and she's almost positive she has one too. "Want to go stuff our faces with the gingerbread men?"
He laughs lightly. "Sure. I'll warm up some milk."
And that's when her heart melts a little, because seriously. She leans down and gives him a small kiss on the corner of his mouth, before she rolls off him and stands.
This time when she offers him her hand, he lets her pull him up