who’s scruffy looking?
in which clarke has ~a thing~ for bellamy’s beard
happy late birthday to @prosciuttoe; sorry this isn’t furry enough for you 🌚
wc: 4 951
rated m | read on ao3
As with most things, Raven is partially to blame.
(“I don’t understand why you’re also blaming me ,” mutters Miller mulishly, “ She’s the one who made the bet with him. I had nothing to do with their bullshit ideas.”
“You spurred them on,” says Clarke, and he rolls his eyes, but doesn’t deny it.)
It starts when Miller returns from vacationing with his dad up in the mountains sporting a full beard.
His beard isn’t really anything new to them- normally he just errs on the side of scruffy, but has been known to grow it out once in a while, especially back when they were in college- so there’s just the general ribbing and maybe one or two pointed comments dropped by Monty before they ignore it.
And then Bellamy gets drunk.
Bellamy doesn’t usually get drunk when they go out; in fact he’s usually the one still annoyingly sober while they do stupid shit like climbing up on the tables or trying to rewire the jukebox. But it is the start of summer break and all his AP students passed their exams so if there was an occasion for overdoing the celebratory drinking, this would be it.
Drunken Bellamy is even sort of cute, far more tactile and vocal about his affection. Which is why it’s no surprise that as the night wears on, they find him gently stroking Miller’s cheek murmuring all sorts of nonsense while Miller looks three seconds away from throttling him. Clarke sneaks a picture. She’s totally going to use this in a mood board when his birthday comes around.
“I’m so jealous of your beard,” he slurs, just a little, and Miller slaps his fingers away. “I’ve always wanted a beard.”
“I don’t know if you’ve realised this,” says Raven, dropping in from seemingly out of nowhere, “But you’ve got all the components you need to grow a beard, Blake.”
Miller snorts at the exact same moment Bellamy’s face falls. “Yeah, no. Theoretically he might have them but trust me on this. Blake is as bare faced as they come.”
Raven’s eyes practically light up at that and her head snaps back to look at him. “You can’t grow a beard?” she asks delightedly.
“Of course I can grow a beard,” he grumbles.
“Then how come we’ve never seen you with one?”
“Because it’s uncomfortable .”
“Uh huh, sure. That’s why.” She lifts an eyebrow. “I bet you can’t grow a full beard like Miller’s before the month’s up.”
“Easiest fucking bet you’ve ever made, Reyes,” says Miller, and Bellamy elbows him in the ribs.
“I can totally grow a beard in the next three weeks,” he protests. “I don’t need to prove that to you.”
“Methinks the man doth protests too much,” she says in a sing-song voice, and his scowl deepens.
“I’m not protesting. And that’s not the quote.”
“Come on,” she wheedles, “Fifty bucks says you can’t.”
He glowers at her for one last moment before finally caving. “Fine,” he sighs, sticking his hand out for her to shake. She does so rather enthusiastically and Clarke already knows that this is going to be a disaster. “I’ll take your stupid bet.”