Got Everyone Watchin’ Us
summary: basically I asked @ariadneblake for a smutty prompt because I have had major writers block and she gave me: ‘artist!clarke taking a break from her museum/gallery showcase for a quickie with curator / security guard!bellamy, maybe in the coatroom, or in an exhibit free of people, on the sly’
rated: M | read on: ao3
The bustle of the gallery room grew louder with each passing minute. Champagne flutes clinking and boisterous drunken laughter overtook her senses.
Abby had set up this networking showcase for Clarke, in a motion of good faith, allowing Clarke to meet potential buyers for her new collection. Clarke tried ignore how anxious she was.
She was proud of her collection. It was something she’d worked on tirelessly for the last nine months, working closely with the museum curator to maximize the use of her space and the total experience. This showcase was important, there was a lot of money in the room; money that could fund her next collection and potentially catapult her into the next level of her career.
In the middle of distracted conversation of small talk with one of her mother’s political connections, Clarke spotted him loitering in the corner.
Bellamy wasn’t required to be present at the event, but as the museum curator, he felt it necessary to make an appearance. Schmooze and booze, all that.
Clarke felt a flush creep into her chest when his eyes found hers and he tipped his head towards the hall, just slightly. She swallowed and dragged her eyes back to the Senator, or councilman, whoever it was and smiled politely.
“I’m so sorry, but I’ve just seen someone I need to say hello to. Thank you so much for you support,” she said sweetly. “If you have anymore questions about the collection or my work, I’m sure my mother can get you my information.”
The older man nodded and Clarke excused herself, grabbing a flute of champagne from a waiter as she made her way towards the hall Bellamy had now disappeared down.
He was leaning against the wall, close to the entrance. When he saw her, he rolled himself up from his position, grabbed her wrist and swung open the door beside him.
“Bellamy!” Clarke gasped, trying not to spill her drink as Bellamy rushed her into the closet and closed the door, the only light coming from a dim bulb hanging low off the ceiling. A moment later, he had taken the glass from her hand and put it somewhere she could see and then crowded her against the door.