Sticking Together - The 100, F/F (1/?)

[Winged]

I'm currently writing another Clarke/Lexa fanfiction on AO3 (which can be found here!), and the end of the most recent scene, the two of them ended up out in the cold with Lexa giving Clarke her jacket...you can pretty much guess where my mind went from there.

It's a modern AU so you don't really need to know the characters or plot of the show to appreciate the fic, and you really don't have to read the first full chapter. Basically Clarke and Lexa keep running into each other in the waiting room of their university's counseling center and they end up getting coffee and striking up an odd friendship. In the end of the first chapter, Clarke's having a really bad anxiety day and ends up snapping at Raven and running out of their apartment. She runs into Lexa on campus and the two of them end up going for a walk so Clarke can calm down, and they end up talking about their respective issues that they're in the counseling center for. Clarke is shivering so Lexa gives her her jacket.

I'm prooobably not going to include this in my AO3 fic (I get a little self-conscious about having a lot of caretaking in public venues, although likely no one else makes the connection that it's a fetish), but the idea wouldn't leave me alone so I decided to write up an outtake.

It's written in second person from Lexa's point of view, which is a style that's gotten popular in the 100 and Carmilla fandoms lately, so I decided to give it a try.

--

When Clarke texts you at 9 in the morning you’re splashing your face with water and wishing fervently that you could just fall back in bed and curl up under your blankets once more. You didn’t sleep well at all last night — perhaps because of your conversation with Clarke, perhaps because of the fact that you kept waking with a sore throat and stuffed nose. Your throat is still painful this morning, and you’re staring at yourself in the mirror trying to figure out if you have enough time before class to make tea when Anya appears in the bathroom door.

“Morning.” She sidles past you to grab her toothbrush from the cup by the sink. You try to respond to her greeting but your breath lodges somewhere in your trachea and you end up coughing instead. They’re deep, congested coughs and sound disgusting, and you wince when you’re done.

“Well you sound like shit,” Anya says flatly. You feel like shit, so all you can do is stick your tongue out at her like you’re a fucking three year old.

“Bite me.”

“Yeah, no thanks.” Anya stops to watch you in the bathroom mirror, toothbrush loose in one hand. “Are you seriously going to go to class?”

“What, like I can miss any more? I’m fine, Ahn.”

She’s on you like a ninja, hand pressed to your forehead like she actually cares about your physical wellbeing, and you roll your eyes as she pulls away.

“You feel a little warm.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, and disappear back to your room.

Then you see the text message from Clarke, and even though it feels like she’s checking in on you after your heavy conversation last night you don’t really mind.

The day goes on and you feel progressively worse and worse, to the point where you skip your 3pm statistics class in order to catch up on some sleep. When you wake again, Clarke has texted you again.

Clarke (4:00pm): Last minute invite, but do you want to come over to my place later? You can bring your work - I have to study too. But Raven and Octavia are both going to be out and I always end up cooking wayyy too much food haha.

You check your watch — she sent the message almost an hour ago — and try to sigh through your nose, but it’s still ridiculously stuffed and you just end up making a weird squeaking sound. All day yesterday you had felt tired and run-down, and your throat had been beginning to bother you, so it’s not incredibly surprising that wandering around in the cold for an hour after giving Clarke your jacket made things worse.

And now you’re hanging out with Clarke later.

You don’t have any cold medicine in your apartment — it has acetaminophen in it and Anya is paranoid about keeping pills around — so you settle for making tea and trying to breathe in the vapors to unclog your sinuses. It does make your nose run, so now you’re alternating between sniffling and coughing, and after a few minutes of it you have to sneeze.

“hh’ESCHH’uh! Oh mby god,” you moan, sniffling back the congestion that your sneeze has shaken loose. The closest thing you can use for a Kleenex is a paper towel, and you fold it carefully against your nose as you feel the rough fabric continue to tease your nostrils. “ISSH’oo.”

Maybe you can text Clarke and tell her you changed your mind about coming, that something’s come up and you have a meeting or a test or something. But you like her, and last night’s soul-bearing conversation really just made you realize that all the more, so turning her down would feel a lot like kicking a particularly blue-eyed puppy.

In the end, you send Anya a pleading text and ask her to swing by the pharmacy on the way home from class and pick up some Dayquil. You can keep it locked in your room if it makes you feel better, you add. But I’m fucking dying over here.

She responds in the affirmative (You’re lucky I don’t mind being your babysitter) and half an hour later she’s back in the apartment with plastic bags in hand.

“I got Nyquil and cough drops,” she says, plunking them down on the table in front of you, “and some tissues since I figured we didn’t have any of those.”

“If you’re not careful you’re going to look like you care,” you say, but it comes out a little sharper than you’ve planned, and you immediately want to take it back when Anya’s eyes tighten and she departs to her room without another word. You clench your teeth and hide your face in your hands, mentally kicking yourself. Why do you have to be such an ass, Lexa?

You’re feeling a little doped up on Dayquil when you arrive at Clarke’s house an hour later, cough drops and tissues wadded into your pockets and your backpack just in case. It’s an old split townhouse a few blocks off campus, and she shares her front porch with the other half of the occupants.

You ring the doorbell and Clarke appears less than thirty seconds later, dishtowel in hand. “Hi!” She says breezily. “Come on in, I’m just making dinner.”

“What are you making?” You let the door close behind you and follow her obediently to the kitchen: a surprisingly large, open room that Clarke and her roommates seemed to keep fairly clean.

“Quiche, I think.” Clarke shoots a glance at the oven. “Do you like quiche?”

You’ve never had it, but you’re generally not picky. “Sure.”

“Good.” She waves a hand towards what appears to be the living/dining room. “You can put your stuff over there if you want.”

You obey and head over there to put your backpack by the dining room table. The change in temperature from the cold outside to the warmer interior of Clarke’s house has made your nose run again, and you pull a tissue from your pocket.

“You said your roommates are out?”

“Yeah, Octavia’s on a date and Raven’s at…something. Society of Women Engineers?”

“What kind of engineer is she?” You blow your nose while Clarke is out of the room and finish with a very liquid sniff. Apparently the Dayquil is only working on your congestion and coughs.

“Mechanical.”

“Anya’s in biomedical.”

“Oh, cool.” Clarke pokes her head in from the kitchen and you hastily shove your balled Kleenex back in your pocket. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Do you have tea?” You’ve been chugging the stuff non-stop today, but at least it’s keeping you from going hoarse.

“Absolutely. Come check out the pantry.”

You join Clarke in the kitchen and rifle through the little crate of tea she and her roommates have amassed while Clarke putters around behind you.

“Ah, nice!” She says, and you turn around to see her pulling some pie-crusted thing from the oven. “It smells so good.”

You don’t think you can really smell anything, so you just kind of nod. But then the scent of garlic reaches your nostrils, prickling at your sinuses like flames, and you turn away from the pantry to sneeze into your elbow. “hh’CHH, huh’ISHH’uhh.”

“Bless you!” Clarke looks up. “Sorry, the garlic is strong.”

You clear your throat and pull another tissue from your pocket to dab at your nose. “It’s okay. I’m also kind of catching a cold.” An understatement - the cold has caught you at this point.

Clarke’s brows pinch together in worry. “I’m sorry, that sucks. Do you want some cold medicine or anything?”

“I’ve taken some Dayquil, but I just don’t think it’s kicked in yet.” You hold up the teabag in your hand. “The tea should help.”

“Okay.” Clarke still looks concerned, but she turns back to her quiche. “Hot water is on the stove.”

--

I am planning to write more of this, so stay tuned! Hope you enjoyed.

[Jota]

wowowow I actually really love this university AU, the vibe is really casual and cute so glad I'm not the only one here who loves the 100!!! Can't wait for the next part!

[SexyGodlikeHair]

Awww, this is super cute! Really looking forward to more-on here, AND on ao3!

[musiclover90]

This is great. I love it. Can't wait for more.

[White Rose]

I really like this!! More?

[Spoo]

Love this! You're off to a great start.

[Bananas]

I really like what you had started here. Hope you plan on continuing this some time soon.