One Drink – Beckett x MC

Summary: Clarette persuades Beckett to do something other than study on a Saturday night.

Rating: M

Words: 3832

Author’s Notes: This has been sitting in my drafts for almost a month before finally polishing it up. It takes place sometime during the Fall Semester, a bit canon divergent since Chapter 8 happened. Beckett doesn’t belong to me (unfortunately), but the story does. No Beta used.

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The Penderghast watchtower chimed, its bells reverberating to signal the 10 o’clock hour on a balmy, autumn, Saturday evening. Clarette LeFleur stood outside the room of one Beckett Harrington, puffing out a quick breath before smoothing down her outfit.

‘What’s the worst that could happen? He says no. No harm, no foul. Anyway, this is a last-minute thing and it’s not his scene. But since we’re friends, it’s totally normal that I’d invite him along.’ She psyched herself up, resolute in her actions. ‘Right. Let’s do this.’

Before her nerve could take off down the hall in a sprint, she gently rapped on the door, a sunny smile gracing her face as soon as the man in question appeared in front of her. It took every fiber of her being not to openly gawk at him, especially as he neglected to throw a shirt on before opening the door.

Beckett stared at her, mouth agape. It was not often he was left speechless, but he found himself grasping for words as he took in her appearance. He couldn’t help himself as his eyes roved over her; from the curve of her neck, to her black, satin spaghetti strap mini dress, and all the way down her long legs, which were accentuated by how short the piece of clothing was.

She felt her skin heat up under his attentive gaze, silently thanking Shreya for letting her borrow the designer dress. Breaking the silence, she cleared her throat. “So, are you going to invite me in, or are we having this conversation out here?”

Running a hand through his hair, he snapped out of the trance he had been in. “Yes, sorry. Please, come in.” He stepped aside, inhaling deeply after she passed by him.

Clarette looked around his sanctum, taking note of the books on the desk, one of which was opened to a spell they had learned earlier in the week. His room was uncharacteristically tidy for someone his age, but she wouldn’t have expected anything less from him. The air had a clean and crisp smell, yet it was definitely masculine. The scent was distinctively Beckett.

“Mind if I take a seat?”

“Go ahead, you can sit – “ he stopped abruptly when she hopped on his bed. He had to stop himself from flinching as he saw the wrinkles on his comforter. “Was there something you needed? Or can I get back to studying for Englund’s course?”

She regarded him, head cocked to the side. “I was thinking about what we talked about that night in the library, what we do for fun.”

His eyes darted to her in a suspicious manner, crossing his arms to emphasize his point. “I’m almost afraid to ask, Clarette.”

“It’s Saturday night and the books are still going to be there tomorrow.” She shrugged before leaning back on her hands. “What do you say you come with me to Mysterium? We’ll meet up with the rest of the gang.”

He glanced over to the books on his desk, then back to her on his bed. Meeting her question with silence, his posture remained motionless, save for the movement of his eyes. Thank goodness he was known to be aloof; otherwise it would have been very apparent that she was unknowingly distracting him.

The lack of response made her fidget. He normally would quip back, but this silence was almost unnerving.

“I’ll make you a deal. You come out with me tonight and we’ll study all day tomorrow.”

“And how is that beneficial for me?”

“Here’s the thing. I have a basic understanding of what we’re going over, but there’s a few concepts I could use help with. By helping me review, it’ll reinforce it in your mind and I’ll get some much-needed help,” she reasoned, her smile a bit too sweet.

He mulled over her offer. “And if I want to leave immediately?”

“One drink. Then if you still want to go, I won’t stop you.”

“One drink?”

“One drink.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“I wouldn’t expect you not to. That being said, I think I’ll be able to change your mind, Mr. Harrington.”

He smirked, throwing on a collared, dark pewter shirt. “Are you practicing the magic of persuasion, as well?”

Clarette threw her head back and laughed. The sound was so unlike the high-pitched giggles that usually accompanied the girls who tried so hard with him. Instead, he was taken with her melodic timbre, which was so vibrant and he knew that he wanted to hear more of it.

“No, but remember how I told you I won ‘Most Tenacious’ back in high school? That was before I knew I was attuned.”

He shot her a slightly questioning eyebrow before turning to his mirror, combing his hair. “Will this suffice for the dress code?”

She appraised him, from his dark jeans to his tailored button down, her mouth slightly curving into a mischievous smile. “I’m almost shocked that you own such a peasant piece of material such as denim.”

Beckett stood, stunned, if not offended, until he realized she was teasing him with that glint in her eye.

“…Clarette,” he paused, waiting slightly until she squirmed uncomfortably, “I’ll have you know us bourgeois folk wear these as well. They just happen to cost a thousand dollars,” he replied, struggling to keep a composed face.

She gasped, pretending to clutch at her heart. “Oh. My. God. Did you just make a joke? Stop the presses!” Jumping off the bed, she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the door. “Trust me; you’ve far surpassed any dress code that this place might have.”

His smile faltered. “No dress code? What kind of barbaric place are you taking me to?!”

Laughing airily, she led him through his suite’s door to Penn Square. Within minutes, they arrived at the front of the line of Mysterium, the centaur waving them through. The heavy beats of the bass blasted through the speakers, the volume making it hard for Beckett to think. He was starting to regret following the woman who currently was guiding him by the hand through the dim club.

As if she felt his hesitation, Clarette turned around and slowed her pace, the two of them walking in tandem.

“You didn’t tell me it was going to be this loud,” he yelled over the music.

Putting her hand on his shoulder, he leaned over as she brought her mouth to his ear. “Sorry! I promise it’s not that bad in the VIP area!”

He barely registered what she said, instead focusing on the sensation of her hot breath so close to such a sensitive area. They continued past the velvet rope, arriving at the table where Shreya, Zeph, and Griffin sat.

Surprise laced Shreya’s face when she saw who Clarette had in tow, followed by a knowing look towards her suitemate. “I never thought I’d see the day where Beckett is out at a club. I guess that’s another bottle for the table, then.”

Signaling to the server waiting in the wings, a sparkling bottle of Dom Perignon hovered above their table, along with five glasses. Clarette watched, a childlike awe gracing her face, as the bottle poured itself perfectly into each flute, the liquid appearing to glitter with gold.

“I swear, I am never going to tire of that!” Clarette exclaimed as all five long-stemmed glasses gently found their way into each of their hands.

“So much better than having to try and flag down a bartender’s attention, that’s for sure,” Zeph remarked.

“Sure helps having a Mistry in our midst,” Griffin chuckled.

“Oh, I see how it is! All of you are just using me for my connections then!” Shreya faux accused, laughing, before snapping a selfie of herself holding the bejeweled beverage in her hand. “Okay, Clarette, you do the honors. What are we toasting to tonight?”

Clarette tapped her chin thoughtfully, glancing around the table, until her gaze landed on Beckett, who was sitting next to her.

“I’d like to toast to you, for agreeing to come out tonight and be out of your comfort zone.” Turning to face him, they locked eyes as she continued, “I’m going to break you out of your shell, just yet. To Beckett!”

They all raised their glasses, taking a drink of the champagne, the bubbles tickling as it went down.

Shreya smiled to herself as she leaned over to Zeph, whispering, “That’s not the only thing she wants to break him out of!”

Zeph nearly spit his drink out as he looked across the table.

Beckett observed their surroundings; Clarette wasn’t kidding when she said the VIP area was a lot quieter. He noticed an invisible sound barrier filtering the main dance floor and he was thankful he could actually hear himself think. Looking to his right, the girl who had convinced him to come was in conversation with Griffin. He scowled, pangs of jealousy hitting him as Penderghast’s star thief player occupied her attention. Taking a sip, he noticed Shreya across the table, amused at his expression.

A cheeky grin rested on her face. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“No,” he frowned deeper.

Shreya chuckled, earning his ire. “You know, Beckett,” she leaned across the table, “there is a reason why she brought you here.“

His eyes darted over to Clarette, who was giggling at something Griffin said. He took another sip, eyes narrowing.

“She only brought me here to have me help her study tomorrow.”

Shreya laughed even harder and Beckett could not contain his glare.

“What is so damn funny?”

Calming down, she motioned to him to come closer. “Clarette’s going to kill me if she knew I told you this, but she’s getting A’s in all her classes. She technically doesn’t need your help.” She leaned back into the couch, a wide, knowing smile on her lips.

Beckett looked at her, dumbfounded. If she didn’t need his help, why go through all the trouble of dragging him out? More so, she was getting A’s? She was a complete slacker!

While he was contemplating this new information, he completely missed the daggers Clarette aimed at Shreya. She noticed out of the side of her eye that her roommate had moved closer to talk to Beckett. Jealousy was not a natural part of her personality, but she could not help the brief frown that disappeared just as quickly. There was a natural break in her conversation with Griffin and she took the opportunity to turn back to the man who accompanied her.

Beckett smiled as she faced him. “Do you come here often?”

“How are you liking it so far?”

They asked each other simultaneously, resulting in Clarette giggling while her hand landed on his knee.

“We’ve been here a few times and just so you know, that sounded like a bad pick up line.”

“I didn’t mean it like that at all!” he exclaimed, blushing furiously.

“You’re lucky you’re cute and FYI; if we didn’t already know each other, that line probably would’ve worked,” she winked as she stood up, extending her hand. “Come on, dance with me.”

Taking her hand, he stood up and followed her to the dance floor. The music didn’t seem as obnoxiously loud as it was earlier when they had first arrived. He attributed it to the alcohol in his system, but even he knew he was lying to himself as he watched Clarette’s hip sway in rhythm to the beat.

She led him to the middle of the packed dance floor, where the lack of real estate pushed their bodies together. He swallowed nervously, though Clarette was completely oblivious to the effect she was having on him.

A cocktail waitress squeezed through the crowd with a myriad of multicolored shots, some of which had smoke rising off them while others had literal sparks shooting out of the slender glass vial.

Stopping the server, Clarette turned to Beckett in excitement. “Beckett! Do a shot with me!”

Looking at the swirling colors of alcohol, he raised a suspicious eyebrow. “I think I’ll pass,” raising his voice loud enough to be heard over the speakers.

“Okay, I’ll let you off the hook this time.” Turning to the waitress, she asked, “Which one is better?”

“Tell you what, sweetie. Buy one and I’ll give you the other one for free,” the blue hued girl replied, winking.

Clarette clapped her hands in delight before reaching into her purse. Beckett gently touched her forearm, getting her attention as he produced a couple coins. “Let me get this. It’s the least I can do for convincing me to go out tonight.”

“Thanks, you didn’t need to do that!” She double fisted both glasses. “Are you sure you don’t want one?“

“Fine,” he exasperated exaggeratedly. “YOLO, right?” Picking the smoking shot, he clinked his vial against hers before they both downed the potent beverage. The slim containers dissolved from their hands as he held back a cough from the strength of the libation.

Stepping up to him, she tiptoed to get close to his ear. “That wasn’t so bad was it?”

He shook his head, becoming acutely aware of how close she was to him.

“I told you, didn’t I? Now, we dance!”

Beckett was almost caught off guard as she draped her arms over his broad shoulders, swaying against him. He had taken a few ballroom lessons growing up at his parents’ insistence, but this type of dancing left him stiff.

Noticing his movements, or lack thereof, Clarette gazed up at him and smiled. “Follow my lead.” She turned around, backing into him until there was no space between them.

He let his natural instincts guide him, his body moving innately with hers. She leaned back against his strong chest, gently placing his hands on her hips. She swore she heard him groan while rocking her hips against him and his fingers tightened, bringing her even closer. Burying his nose in her hair, he wasn’t sure if he was intoxicated by the smell of her or if it was that damn shot. Whatever it was, he was pretty sure she was being affected too, if her movements were any indication.

They continued dancing in that manner, mirroring the couples surrounding them. He felt himself getting caught up in a haze, mildly aware of how intimate they were acting. Once the realization hit him, he tried to take a step back to create distance between their bodies, only Clarette made sure he wasn’t going anywhere.

The strobe lights and fog machines hid the embarrassment coloring his face, but there was no hiding the stiffness in his pants. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on filling his thoughts with the most mundane tasks, willing his body to cooperate with his mind. Instead, her perfume wafted into his senses and there was no denying it; she paused for the briefest of moments, no doubt feeling him pressing into her.

It was impossible for her not to notice how excited he was. Removing his hands from her hips, he was about to excuse himself when she grabbed his hands and placed them back in the same spot as before. She glanced at him over her shoulder, slightly biting her lip with the smallest of smiles.

His breath caught in his throat.

Clarette was definitely grinding against him.

His fingers dug into her hips, involuntarily bringing her closer. The groan that escaped his lips made her shudder as her eyes closed, letting him support her. She didn’t know if it was the shot of who knows what or just the exquisite feeling of Beckett, but everything just felt so damn good.

Throwing caution into the wind, she twirled herself around until they were facing each other, her arms around his neck. His arms snaked around her waist, bringing her so close that she was practically riding his leg. Unabashedly rolling her hips forward, she pushed her chest against his, leaving no space between them.

They locked eyes.

“You wanna get out of here?” She asked, her voice laden with desire.

Replying huskily, he nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

“Let’s go to your suite. You’re in a single right? I don’t want to be interrupted by Shreya.”

How they arrived in his room was a blur, the click of the bedroom door causing both of them to pause momentarily. She glanced at him from under her lashes, lightly licking her lips as his gaze moved from her eyes to her mouth. He cupped her cheek, his thumb rubbing gently, before leaning over and brushing his lips against hers. He pulled back slightly, his eyes opening to gauge her reaction.

Her eyelids fluttered open, her pupils blown wide. Their lips met once more, this time with no hesitation. His hands were seemingly everywhere, first tangled in her thick, dark mane, down to her bottom, then wrapping around her greedily. She pulled him down as they deepened their kiss, her hands roaming over his chest before she clutched at his shirt, displeased that it was in her way.

He was vaguely aware of her unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it to the ground. Instead, he was relishing how it felt to have her in his arms and how soft her lips were. She broke the contact, only to plant her lips elsewhere. She peppered kisses on his jaw, moving downward, tracing the pulse in his neck with the tip of her tongue. He exhaled loudly as she gently bit his chest, before making her way back up until he once again claimed her mouth with his own. It amazed him how her mouth molded to his and how it felt like trails of fire wherever she touched him.

They tumbled onto his bed, their lips in a continued connection as they made out with her on top of him. She straddled his hips, his hands running up the side of her thighs before resting on her ass. Beckett involuntarily rocked upwards, sending shivers down her spine. He carefully flipped them over and Clarette moaned into his mouth, relishing the pressure of his body on hers. She wrapped one long leg around him, drawing him nearer as he felt the smooth skin of her exposed thigh. He settled between her legs, spreading a delicious warmth through her body. Bringing his hand up, he rested it on her covered breast, lightly squeezing it as he sucked on her neck, leaving a mark.

“Beckett… ” She whispered breathlessly into his ear. There was nothing that could compare to the high she was currently on.

Beckett stopped his ministrations and gazed at Clarette, whose lids were closed in ecstasy. He shook his head. There was something wrong with all of this. When he looked down at her again, her heavy-lidded eyes were half open, but the hazy glaze over her dilated pupils was unmistakable. Whoever concocted those shots had slipped a wrongly concocted daydream potion into the drinks.

His larger build allowed him to process the substance quicker than Clarette’s petite frame and she was still obviously under the influence. He felt terrible that he was not able to recognize the signs earlier. The hallucinogenic must have been the only reason she would ever end up in this compromising position with him.

He quickly jumped off the bed, raking a shaky hand through his ruffled hair. She gazed at him in confusion as she absentmindedly ran a hand over her chest.

“Why are you over there? Come back here. I’m not anywhere close to being done with you.”

Swallowing thickly, he took in the picture laid out before him. This gorgeous woman was in his bed, sheets crinkled under her, begging for him to come back. If he was a lesser man, he would have easily listened to the head below, but he would not be able to live with himself if their first time was like this – especially if he really had a chance with Clarette. Most of all, it was wrong to take advantage of her in an inebriated state.

She pouted when Beckett made no move to return to bed and it took all his willpower not to go to her when her face fell, eyes glassy and lips quivering.

“Am I still not good enough for you? Is that why?” she asked, blinking back tears.

In an instant, he was by her side, embracing her in his arms, stroking her hair.

“No, that’s not it at all. If anything, Clarette, you’re too good for me,” he murmured, before planting a kiss on her head as she burrowed under his chin.

“Then why won’t you sleep with me?”

Exhaling slowly, he pondered how to gently turn her down. “Because you’re impaired right now. Our drinks were spiked.”

She leaned back, eyes wide with shock, all traces of tears gone.

“And more importantly, I want our first time to be special, not some drug induced hookup that we may not remember. Or even worse, regret.”

She beamed. “So there will be a first time?”

“I sure hope so. But I’d like to take you out on a proper date first if you’ll allow me.”

Blinking a few times, awareness slowly came back to her as she looked at her surroundings, including Beckett, who was still bare chested and holding her. Her eyes widened in horror, looking straight at him. “Oh God, I’m mortified,” she blurted out, a hand covering her face.

His expression dropped. Of course she would be mortified being caught with a nerd like him. Making a move to stand to hide his disappointment, she grabbed his hand and pulled him back down.

“Beckett, I’m sorr-”

“It’s fine,” He replied sharply, the stiff upper lip demeanor returning. “We can pretend nothing happened and go back to before.”

Disappointment laced her eyes as she searched his face. “But what about you taking me out on a first date?”

His jaw dropped in surprise. “You still want to go out with me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because we were both under a spell.”

“What was it about the daydream potion? That an ill concocted one makes you act out a fantasy?”

He nodded.

“Well, I think it’s pretty telling that we were acting out a fantasy involving us almost having sex,” she grinned sheepishly. “So if the offer still stands…”

His face relaxed into a breathtaking smile. “It most certainly does. Clarette, would you like to go out with me?”

Gleaming, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Yes. And I thought you would never ask.”

He chuckled, a blush rising on his face. “We’re kind of doing this backwards, aren’t we?”

“What, you mean us making out in your room and then you asking me out? Totally normal,” a bashful smile crossed her face. “Now come on, walk me back to my room. And put a shirt on, unless you really want to give Penderghast something to talk about.”