Clarke looked across the fire grimly; her fingers clenched around her metal cup of moonshine. She wasn’t really sure why she even came out here tonight.
She had been back at Camp Jaha for almost a month and everything was slowly getting easier, but there were still people that she was stubbornly avoiding. It made large gatherings more difficult, as it was patently difficult to avoid specific individuals when everyone in the camp was together in the same place.
Bellamy was certainly one of the people that Clarke was avoiding, but not for the reasons that everyone assumed. In the few instances that they’d been together since she had come back, Clarke had been almost overwhelmed by the depth of understanding in his eyes. She had spent months assuming that Bellamy would hate her for leaving, and Clarke was surprised to discover that she would much prefer hatred to his protectiveness and concern. She deserved hatred. She didn’t deserve love and understanding.
Clarke was interrupted from her thoughts by someone - yet another person that she was avoiding - sitting down next to her. Even without looking, she knew exactly who it was - all shuffling steps and careful movements.
“And she emerges from her tent.”
Clarke frowned. After months of living in whatever shelter she could find, she just couldn’t stomach the idea of living indoors, either in the Ark or in the crude cabins that had been hastily erected before winter set in. Whatever. It was spring now, so she had plenty of time to get used to the idea.
She realized that she must have been silent for too long when Raven sighed loudly. “Now you’re not even going to talk to me? Aren’t we a bit old for the silent treatment?”
Clarke finally turned to face Raven. “I’m not giving you the silent treatment…. I just don’t know what to say. I just don’t know how to talk about…” she trailed off, throwing her hands up in to the air helplessly. “This.”
Raven held her gaze for a moment before looking down at her lap. Her fingers picked at a strap on her knee brace. She unbuckled the strap restlessly, before pulling it tight again and buckling it closed. Finally, she spoke again, without looking up.
“I slept with Bellamy while you were gone.” She paused. “A lot.”
Clarke’s felt something in her stomach clench. She knew that she didn’t have any claim to either of them, and yet the truth was that they were both her people. She quickly pushed down the feeling, hoping that her face had remained impassive. “I don’t see how that has anything to do with me.”
“It has everything to do with you.” Clarke flinched, but Raven continued. “We were both so angry at you for leaving, but at least he got to say goodbye. You just left, and I was in the med centre for almost 24 hours before I even knew that you were gone.” She chuckled humourlessly. “I remember dreaming that you were beneath the drop shop again. You know, when the grounders were attacking after I was shot. And everything hurt and I was so scared, and you were talking to me from beneath the drop ship, and suddenly you were just gone. And then I woke up in the med centre and started asking for you, and that’s when they told me.”
Clarke twisted her fingers together, unable to look up at Raven’s face. She had known that her friends would be affected by her absence, but she hadn’t been able to think about that in the beginning. She had been so sure that she was doing the right thing, for herself and for Octavia and Jasper, and all of them, that it had taken her weeks to really consider that she might be missed. Even now, with Raven’s words still hanging between them, she can’t really believe that maybe they could have needed her to help heal and recover. I bear it so they don’t have to.
Raven is speaking again. “I was so angry with you for a long time. Bellamy was never angry. He was sad, and disappointed that you couldn’t share your burden with him, but never angry. He helped me to understand that you were doing what you needed to do to survive.”
There is one thing that Clarke needs to know, but isn’t sure that she even deserves to have the answer. She asks anyways. “Are you and Bellamy together?”
“No. At least not in the way that you’re asking. As I said, it had everything to do with you.”
Clarke finally looked up to meet Raven’s eyes. Raven’s expression had softened, but her eyes were filled with a deep intensity. Almost a challenge. Clarke suddenly realized that she had been drifting closer to Raven; their lips are only inches apart when Clarke finally finds her voice. “What do you want from me?”
She knows what’s going to happen almost as soon as the words leave her mouth. Raven’s lips quirk up into a half-smirk, and her breath is warm and shaky against Clarke’s mouth, as she leans forward to close the distance between them. Raven’s mouth is fierce and demanding, and Clarke can’t help but respond; her tongue traces along Clarke’s lips, and she gasps, allowing Raven entrance. Before Clarke even realizes what she is doing, she is being pulled into Raven’s lap, and she swings a leg over Raven’s thighs so that she can straddle her, as Raven’s hands come up to cup her face, her fingers twining into the curls that have come loose from her messy braid.
Fuck. She has no idea how long she’s been waiting to do this, and her body is responding eagerly, after the long months of self-enforced isolation.
The kiss is just becoming truly heated, when Clarke hears a low whistle of approval from a bench nearby. Clarke pulls away from Raven’s lips, but Raven does not loosen her grip on her face and hair, so Clarke compromises by resting her forehead against Raven’s. Once it is clear that Clarke is not going to try to escape, Raven untangles one of her hands, to make a rude gesture at whoever it is that interrupted them.
“Help me up.” Raven commands gently, and Clarke can’t help but obey. She disentangles herself from Raven’s lap, and she immediately misses the soft press of Raven’s body against her own. Once Raven is standing, she takes Clarke’s hand, and starts leading them away from the revealing light of the campfires. They only make it just beyond the reach of the light, around the corner of the hulking wreck of the Ark, before Clarke finds herself pushed up against the cold metal, Raven’s hot mouth on her neck, and her knee pressing up between her legs.
Clarke moans, struggling to keep her voice low. It all feels so fucking good, and she can’t stop herself from grinding down against Raven’s leg, even as her brain protests. Her hips don’t stop their frantic movements, but she manages to tangle her fingers in Raven’s ponytail, pulling up until Raven meets her eyes.
“This isn’t how it works, Raven. You can’t just use sex to force a reaction from me.”
Raven grinned humourlessly, and her eyes were dark, sparkling in the dim light of the distant camp fire. “Just watch me.”
Her hands reached down to the button of Clarke’s pants, but she stilled for a moment, her eyes searching Clarke’s face. Clarke hesitated for a moment, but her hips betrayed her, still grinding against Raven’s knee, and Clarke found herself nodding her consent. Raven swiftly flicked the button and zipper open, and then her hand was down Clarke’s pants and inside her underwear. Clarke knew that she was embarrassingly wet, and Raven’s swift intake of air only confirmed that fact, as her fingers swept through Clarke’s slick folds.
Raven’s lips once again caught Clarke’s, swallowing her low moan of pleasure, as Raven began teasing Clarke’s clit with two fingertips. Her mouth was relentless as her fingers moved quickly, not giving Clarke a chance to think. Not giving her a chance to second-guess what they were doing. The pleasure rose swiftly, and without realizing what she was doing, Clarke was suddenly gasping out. “Please Raven, I need more.”
She could feel Raven smirking against her lips, but she slipped two fingers inside and Clarke gasped in relief. It had been so fucking long since she had gotten off; not since Finn, Clarke realized passively. But she couldn’t think about that, not when Raven was fingering her and her sharp front teeth were biting roughly at her lips, and it was all so fucking perfect. Raven’s hand only had a limited range of motion inside Clarke’s pants and underwear, but she made a rocking grinding motion with her hand, and it felt so good that Clarke was coming before she was ready for it to be over. A sharp whimper tore it’s way out of Clarke’s throat and she knew that she would be embarrassed over just how needy she was, once this was all over.
Raven was still smirking, but there was just the barest edge of uncertainty in her eyes. “Was that what you would call a reaction?”
She pulled her hand out of Clarke’s pants, and wiped her fingers on her own leg, just above her knee brace. Then, her hand was twisting in Clarke’s blonde curls one more time, pulling her forward to meet her lips once again. The kiss was chaste, a stark contrast to the heat of just moments before, and then Raven was pulling away.
“I missed you, Clarke. I’m glad you’re back.” She smiled quickly, just the barest hint of an actual genuine smile, and then her face was unreadable again. “Don’t shut us out again.”
Clarke pressed her head back against the hull of the Ark; the sound of her skull connecting with the metal was loud in the quiet night air. She let her eyes follow Raven’s slim form as she walked back to the warm light of the campfire.