Lexa would’ve much rather spent the afternoon cuddling with her girlfriend than going to that damn bar, but alas, she knew well enough that once Clarke had gotten the idea into her head, there was no convincing her otherwise. And she had brought it onto herself, really, by mentioning that stupid get-together her teammates had invited her on.
“They’re not even my friends, they’re just people who happen to annoy me every day.”
“That’s as far as you get with most people, honey.” Clarke shoots back, cupping Lexa’s face and placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “I still want to meet them.”
“But you’ve met my friends. My actual friends, Anya and Gustus and-”
Clarke pouts at her. Damn it, how was she supposed to resit that ?
“Fine, we’ll go. But I swear I’m leaving at the first frat boy joke.”
With a squeal - a legit squeal, that’s how much of a fucking dork her girlfriend is - Clarke squeezes her into one of her signature hugs and, damn it, Lexa already knows this is going to be a mistake.
---
Clarke holds her hand all the way over there, and even as they enter the bar, earning them a few puzzled stares from the regulars who most definitely didn’t think Lexa to be the type of person who would let anyone hold her hand without promtply cutting their fingers off.
Lexa’s grumble is barely loud enough for her girlfriend to hear. “I have a reputation to maintain, Griffin.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Clarke smirks. “Am I ruining your street cred?” And with that she throws her hands around Lexa teasingly, burying her head in the crook of the girl’s neck. “Is this better?”
Their table isn’t difficult to find. After all, the rest of the hockey team is the only one actually doing shots at 5 pm.
“‘Sup, commander?”
Clarke looks up to recognize the very same hunk featured in the selfies Octavia had been waving in front of Clarke for the past few months.
“You must be Lincoln, right? O’s told be quite a lot about you.”
“The one and only. I’m guessing you’re Clarke, then?”
She shakes his hand politely as a wide grin spreads across his face.
“Nice to finally match a name to the face. D’you girls want a drink?”
Clarke has long since unclasped her arms from around her girlfriend’s neck, their fingers now intertwined, much to the girl's lasting dismay. Lexa doesn’t care to answer Lincoln, instead grabbing a shot from their table and downing it.
“Someone’s nervous.” Clarke chuckles. “Not me, although that may or may not have something to do with a certain captain telling me she’d push you all off a tower if you were to be mean to me. My knight is shining armor, right, babe?” She smirks and Lexa tries to hide her smile, she does.
Lincoln lets out a gasp.
“Woah, is that an actual smile? A genuine, honest to god smile ? I don’t think I’ve seen you smile before, captain. Like, ever. This is sort of freaking me out a bit.”
Clarke shoots him a confused look. “What do you mean? Lexa smiles all the time.”
“Clarke, you shut your mouth or so help me - “
“Does she now?” Lexa is seconds away from punching that stupid grin off of Lincoln’s face. “And what else can you tell me about our dear commander?”
Clarke seems to have picked up on what was going on but, instead of putting Lexa out of her misery like any proper girlfriend ought to do, she lets out a soft laugh. “You should really see how easy she blushes if I -”
“I think I’d like to go to the bar now. Join me, Clarke?” She shoots her the most pleading look she can, puppy eyes and everything, but Clarke is beaming.
“Nah, babe, I think I’d rather stay here. So, Linc, did you know that Lexa has made me watch ‘Love Actually’ a grand total of six times? Not even on Christmas, she’s a sappy dork like that.”
By now, Lexa is positively crimson. “Clarke. Bar. Now.” she barks anxiously.
“This is gold.” Lincoln isn’t even trying to hide his laughter anymore, shamelessly clutching at his sides even under Lexa’s furious glare. “Next you’re gonna tell me she bottoms.”
“Well -” is all she manages to get out when Lexa yanks her away.
---
Clarke is still laughing when Lexa turns to her accusingly. She settles to kissing the pout off her lips.
“I’m sorry, babe, I didn’t realize you had this whole secret identity going on.” she mutters. “But Lincoln’s a nice guy, from what Octavia’s told me, and I’ll be sure to cause him some trouble in paradise if he spills anything, don't worry.” She pulls Lexa into another kiss. “Especially about your sightly unhealthy obsession with that movie. We wouldn’t want anyone to find out about that, would we now?” And another. "Besides, you're adorable when you blush."
Lexa’s grip tightens around her waist. With Clarke’s lips on hers, she doesn’t think she cares much about Lincoln, anyway, or Love Actually. Those she can deal with later. For now, she pushes Clarke against the wall behind them, oblivious to the glances the bar’s regulars and an amused Lincoln shoot them.
“I don’t bottom.” Lexa mumbles out between kisses.
Clarke smirks against her lips. She seems to recall a slight affinity of Lexa’s towards public bathroom stalls.