Murphamy au.

Anxiety Bleeding

Summary: Bellamy can't help but notice that cocky John Murphy has suddenly become not so cocky at all. His only true friend appeared to be Mbege, and Murphy was obviously pushing him away. So Mbege approaches Bellamy asking for a favour. Mbege and Bellamy don't get on either so Bellmy can't understand why be agreed.

Bellamy watches across the office floor as Mbege stops by Murphy's desk as the boss reams Murphy for a late article. Mbege looks angry but is obviously trying to school his features into a reassuring calm. Murphy, instead of arguing back like usual, glares at his desk. His lips are pursed but his eyes are too downcast to be truly insubordinate or anything like his usual behaviour. Mbege seems to be slowly sidling up to Murphy's shoulder like usual although the concern seems to be a bit much. It's a simple and fair reprimand, he had a week to write a 3,000 word article. Most reporters could do that. He was supposed to hand it in for editing the day before and it would be published tomorrow on a page full of similar articles about homosexual marriage and LGBT rights. Now he had until midnight to write, edit himself, and submit to the publishing team.

Bellamy returned to his work on the feminist movement in the modern world. Their magazine was rightfully called "Wide Eyed" as it often broached subjects only an open mind would was designed to educate people, typically forty or over (and often male), an audience who either find it interesting or need and want educating However, from what he'd seen of Murphy (and Mbege) he didn't exactly fit the bill. He was often mean and belittling people.

He'd read a few of his articles about poverty amongst families with children and they seemed alright. They had lacked the judgementt he'd expected from the man. Mbege was similar but he was the writer who was often focused on articles regarding social anxieties. He often travelled too, dealing with politicians and advocates of the free world for a good scoop on the rights of minority groups.

The boss, Mr Jaha, stalked off muttering furiously.

Bellamy looked over to see Mbege sitting on the corner of Murphy's desk. He was leaning over it so Bellamy couldn't see Murphy's face but he could see his hands clenched on the table. Mbege rea head hand over one whilst his other held him up on the desk. His fingers trailed over Murphy's hand and due to the steadiness of Mbege's hand he could see Murphy's was shaking. It wasn't too noticeable, just a tremble as opposed to a quake but it was surprisingly jarring.

Murphy pulled his hand away and Mbege let him. He moved off the desk and Murphy became easily visible but before he could take in the details Murphy looked up and directly at him. Bellamy ducked his head, slowly. He was embarrassed at getting caught but he wasn't going to let Murphy know that. Murphy spoke to Mbege and Mbege walked over.

Bellamy cursed, he didn't want to fight.

Mbege leaned over his desk, hands on the corners. He didn't seem pissed but his eyes were challenging as Bellamy defiantly looked up. He scanned Mbege up and down before leaning back in his chair coolly.

"You're supposed to be a decent guy right? You do the gay rights and stuff."

"Actually, more feminism work." Bellamy corrected. Mbege pursed his lips.

"Whatever, equality is the same no matter where it's preached or why. My point is, you believe in it?"

"Of course I do, why else would I write it?" Bellamy asked perplexed. Mbege shrugged, his thin but muscular frame cut an imposingly disinterested figure.

"Pay. But that's not really the conversation we're having. I need a decent guy to do me a favour." Mbege stared at him, pinning him in place with his sincerity and concern. Bellamy wasn't stupid, it was obviously Murphy-orientated.

"What?" Bellamy asked. He was curious and considering he did not like Murphy so much as tolerate him he didn't genuinely think he'd agree.

"Murphy is having a rough time. I can tell but he won't tell me why and he's pulling away. Normally we'd go out for a smoke and talk. Even though he doesn't smoke." Mbege paused, and looked Bellamy up and down. He seemed to be evaluating him, sensing what he could share. "I was gonna ask if you'd keep an eye on him."

Bellamy froze. The honest care from a man who usually seemed like a generic dickhead surprised him. And had him worried too, was Murphy truly hurting? Most likely. His attitude was off and if what Mbege was saying was true...

"Alright. I'll try." Bellamy swore.

"Good" Mbege nodded his gratitude with an assertive look. He then left Bellamy's space and entered Murphy's to briefly speak to him.

Bellamy looker back at his own work.

+++ 10pm

Bellamy was logging off and shutting down his computer. He'd worked late to complete his deadline a day early and email it to editing first thing. He noticed only one other desk lit by the monitor. It was Murphy's, Bellamy had seen Mbege try drag him away earlier but Murphy had refused. He'd gotten quite aggressive about it but quiet. Yanking his arm from Mbege's, squaring up and obviously snapping at the other guy. But also flinching when Mbege tried to reach for him again.

So Bellamy dropped his coat on the desk and walked over. Murphy was squinting at the monitor and typing slowly, obviously tired. He looked up when Bellamy got close enough.

"I was wondering if you'd like me to proof read before you send it to editing?" Bellamy sounded more calm than he felt. He was actually worried for some reason. He'd seen Mbege read over every piece of Murphy's work before the sent it up, often pointing at the screen and Murphy would edit it. Maybe Murphy would let him do it of it needed doing

Murphy regarded him suspiciously.

"I'd rather you didn't." He said and stood, "I'm getting coffee."

Murphy walked around the desk and away quickly. Bellamy's would feel insulted if it didn't feel as though Murphy was trying to escape some form of embarrassment. A vibrating noise made him jump and he saw a small rectangle of blue light. It was Murphy's phone. He saw the caller ID.

Dillon

He wondered who Dillon was and if the call would be important. So he picked the phone up and jogged to the coffee machine. He handed Murphy the phone. Murphy looked at the name and swiped his thumb immediately.

"Hey" he muttered quickly. Bdlla!my stepped back to offer some privacy.

"No. I'm at work. I called you earlier and you didn't answer so I... No, I got Mbege to text you." Murphy was whispering but Bellamy could bear every word. Why would he get Mbege to text this person?

"I was late handing in my article... It's your fault, if you hadn't-"

Hadn't what? Bellamy thinks but doesn't voice because then he would show he'd eaves dropped.

"Right. Okay, I'll be at the flat before one." Bellamy noticed that Murphy's tone was meeker. The defiance dropped and replaced by a shyness. He also said "at the flat" as opposed to home.

"Bye." Murphy murmured, he sounded dejected.

Bellamy waited for Murphy to pick up his coffee and started walking to the desk before moving himself. He followed Murphy.

"Are you sure you don't want me to help?"

Murphy stared at him incredulously. He raised the hand without the coffee palms up in the obvious half-shrug that meant 'what the hell?' Bellamy still waited, he could at least do what Mbege asked, he couldn't give up only hours after accepting.

"I don't want you to help." Murphy said slowly, enunciating the words carefully. It was mocking, rude and even Bellamy could see it was borne of panicked aggression channeled into passive aggressive gestures.

So he asked a question he'd yet to ask today.

"Why?"

Murphy looked thrown, as though he'd expected Bellamy to back off after his display. He gaped a bit, mouth moving to form words that he couldn't apply sound to. He filled the silence with hesitant noises, "ums" and "err's that suggested he couldn't think of an excuse fast enough. Meaning the reason he didn't want Bellamy looking at it was an attempt to save face. That should have clued Bellamy into backing off, he was an asshole but he wasn't usually that cruel. And yet his nosiness got in the way.

" Because I don't need you to. That's what editing is for." Murphy finally replied.

It was feeble at best, pretty pathetic at worse.

"Man, I don't mind." He'd seen Mbege push for information, obviously Murphy wasn't going to just give in.

Murphy's lips pursed and his brows furrowed deeply. It was an odd expression for a young person. Bellamy could see his cheek bulging and moving from where his tongue pushed against it indecisively. Murphy bit his lip, scraping his teeth over it before soothing the wound with his tongue. Bellamy waited patiently.

"Fine. It's hastily done but whatever." Murphy shrugged. His attempt at casual came across stilted.

Bellamy followed him through the dim office until they reached Murphy's desk and he stole a chair from a neighbouring cubicle. He wheeled it to the desk besides Murphy. Murphy was leaned back in his chair, but tense. His tendons in his exposed forearm were sticking out. It was oddly eye-catching.

However his inquisitiveness lead him to turn to the computer instead. He read the article but kept stumbling over misspelt words and some he couldn't decipher. Some were just missed out letters, or letters replaced by ones that would produce similar sounds when spoken. Bellamy struggled through it, even at some laughable mistakes because it was obvious Murphy wouldn't appreciate it. Bellamy could feel the vibration through the floor of Murphy's jittering leg.

"Okay, so do you want me to edit it? Or do you want me to go through it with you?" Bellamy asked, trying to be serious and not like he was casting judgment because he actually wasn't. He knew how stress could make you type quicker and sometimes you hit the wrong key or don't hit the right one hard enough.

"Neither." Murphy said stubbornly. Bellamy sighed. His patience was stretching thin, he hardly tolerated Murphy when he didn't have an attitude.

"Right, we'll go through it if I get stuck, otherwise I'll just edit it." Bellamy snapped.

He edited spelling as he went along, the content was good so he didn't need to offer suggestions often. When he got stuck he asked Murphy who would scan it for ages as though he couldn't find the word Bellamy was asking about even when Bellamy highlighted the text. Bellamy watched him during this and could see Murphy was not doing this on purpose. It was the only reason he didn't start berating him for his slowness

It took an hour. It was ten to twelve before Murphy saved it and sent it off. Bellamy grabbed his coat but decided to leave with Murphy because he was fairly certain they got the same bus and he had questions. Murphy scowled when he caught on but he obviously wasn't going to try and outwait or outrun Bellamy.

The bus stop was only down the road since the office building was just off a main road. It was a small, underwhelming brick building, just bigger than some of the larger suburban houses, enough to house thirty people for work. There were a few either branches, mostly scattered across the country. It was a large magazine.

The walk there was silent. It was going to be a long night of waiting for the irregular and unreliable night bus. The bench was unoccupied so Bellamy sat down, leaving more than enough room for Murphy. He noticed the other only had a light, thin jacket. He frowned, it was freezing. Murohy remained stood up and a few feet away. Bellamy frowned and watched the streetlights dance off cars as they drove past. After a short while he spoke

"You can sit down you know, I don't bite." He kept his tone light so Murphy didn't become unnecessarily aggressive.

"Hmm" Murphy hummed but he did sit down. Their elbows brushed briefly until Murphy crossed his arms, bringing them in close to his chest. Shielding himself.

"So, erm." Bellamy didn't know how to broach it without enraging the other man. So he just came out with it. "Do you have trouble reading and writing?"

Murphy froze and then forcibly relaxed.

"I have... Dyslexia. It's why Mbege normally checks but he had to go today." Murohy admitted, his reluctance clear in every syllable uttered. Bellamy instantly felt guilt corrupt his veins for almost laughing earlier. He was a cruel, sick bastard.

But you didn't know, he reasoned with himself.

He shouldn't have to have known.

"Oh. It's awesome that you-"

"Honestly I don't care what you have to say. It's really awkward so just leave it." Murphy's bite reminded him of the limp bite of a dog with a sore tooth. Bellamy stopped himself from retorting the way he normally would and instead nodded. The quiet, occasionally interrupted by car engines and tyres on wet asphalt, sat between them.

The bus rumbled along a dozen or so minutes later and Bellamy stuck his hand out for it. Murphy stood too, bothumbling in their pockets for the week tickets almost everyone bought. They showed it to the driver, a friendly but tired looking man. Murphy jogged up the stairs which Bellamynakmost never bothered doing since there was barely anyone downstairs anyway. But he followed. He sat in the seats behind Murphy and noticed that Murphy didn't seem all toonhappy about that. There was a group of young men at the very back, they sounded jovial, and slightly drunk so Murphy only hissed at him.

"What the fuck are you following me for? You already squeezed out some gossip. Now sod off."

"Wait, no one else knows?"

"Just, me, Mbege, the editors and the boss." Murphy relayed, "Oh, and you."

"Oh. I won't tell anyone. I'm sorry for being a dick and basically forcing the information out of you."

Murphy seemed even more surprised at this than when Bellamy asked why.

He also seemed uncomfortable because he just shifted, nodded and showed his ear plugs to Bellamy before sticking them in his ear. Bellamy shrugged and played on his phone. He texted Octavia but figured she'd be asleep.

His phone did vibrate with a text.

Clarke: Hey, Murphy sent me his article. I was going to edit it now because I'm the only one with a free schedule and I don't want to water my free day but I'm exhausted. Would you have time? I'll owe you one.

Bellamy: I already proof read it and edited it with Murphy. Just hand it in.

Clarke: oh...? Alright. Thanks.

Bellamy: it's OK. Goodnight.

Clarke: Night

Bellamy looked up from his phone. Clarke would find it curious, and so would tell Raven, Soho would tell Wick and Finn. Wick would shrug, but Finn would tell anyone who listened.

He needed to think if an excuse quick.

"Hey! It's that short ass" one of the tipsy men said as he stumbled up the aisle towards them. "In thought I knew him."

Bellamy didn't recognise this guy, and he didn't consider himself short anyway. It was likely he was talking about Murphy. Who had his headphones in and was no doubt not listening.

"That punk? Oh m God, it's the queer."

Bellamy scoffed, how original. Then again, they were drunk. Another drunken mam approached. Bellamy noticed they were both tall, and stocky enough.

He tapped Murphy's shoulder just in case. Murohy jerked the buds out and whirled on him but stopped whatever he was about to do when he saw the two men.

"For fucks sake. What do you want?" Murphy sounded exasperated and angry. The men exchanged a look.

"Still so cocky even though your boyfriend isn't here acting bodyguard." One man chided. The other grinned.

"Whatever. Sit down before you fall down." Murphy grimaced in disgust at them.

He grimaced worse when one sat next to him and one on the seat in front. Bellamy tensed too, gripping the rail on the back of Murphy's seat. He hoped it wouldn't dissolve into violence.

"Get off" Murphy bit out suddenly and Bellamy let go of the rail. Then he realised Murphy was not talking to him but the other guy. The guy had laid his hand on Murphy's elbow, his grip tight. Murphy looked furious, energetic and a little afraid, his eyes darting from the hand to the guy, and the one in front. Bellamy stood, trying to maximise his height.

"Let go of him. Come on Murphy, it's our stop." it wasn't. They were actually a few stops from it, well from Bellamy's they were. Murphy stood, knocking the guys wrist with his free arm so the guy let go. The guy smirked. And didn't stand out of the way so Murphy could pass. Murphy glared but climbed up and over the seat. Bellamy reached out a hand to steady him on the gently swaying bus. Murphy gripped his wrist instead of his arm. The guy looked smug but didn't sabotage Murphy.

"Guess you got a new fella', better temper on him."

Better temper? Bellamy thinks, like a bully could talk.

Murphy huffed and rang the bell for the bus to stop. They descended the steps, Bellamy made sure Murphy went first and he kept a tight grip on the rail. They got off the bus and looked up to see the drunken idiots sticking their middle fingers up at them. Murphy returned the gesture and so did Bellamy despite his disdain.

"It wasn't my stop" Murphy said. "It was actually quite far from my stop."

"It's actually about five before mine."

"It's twenty past twelve. I said I'd get to the flat before one." Murphy said, it was only partially addressed to him, but mostly to Murphy himself. Bellamy felt bad, clearly Murphy was stressed about this.

"Why does it matter so much?" Bellamy asked and regretted it almost immediately.

Murphy's face went from sullen to angry rather quickly.

"Don't you already know enough about me?"

"No. I know your name, job, the bus you take and that you have dyslexia" Bellamy countered and Murphy seemed to deflate. His deflective question shot down in flames. He huffed a deep sigh.

"Right. If I don't make it on time Dillon won't be happy. It's not fair." Murphy answered but his fingers were tugging at his belt loops, thumbing and and pulling at the material.

"If you can't help it I'm sure he'll understand" Bellamy tried but Murphy shook his head.

"I'm going." Murphy said and turned and started walking. Bellamy followed a few paces behind seeing as it was the way he needed to go too. It didn't take long until Murphy calmed down enough that Bellamy felt it would be okay to walk besides him, so he did. They walked in the cold briskly but Bellamy could see Murphy shivering.

He feels bad about it but besides offering his coat like a concerned boyfriend he doesn't know what to do. All he knows is that if was Octavia he'd be wrestling her into the damn coat himself. Maybe he should offer it? Murphy had a longer walk than he did.

"Hey, do you want my coat? You look freezing."

Murphy cast him a stony look.

"If Dillon doesn't like me home late do you thin-" Murphy clamped his mouth shut. His jaw was so tense it looked like it might bend under pressure. "No. I'm fine thanks."

Bellamy was still caught up in the first part of the exchange. He was thinking heavily on it. Why would Murphy's room mate care? Coming in late maybe because some people set burgular alarms and stuff but wearing someone's coat?

"Why would Dillon care? He's just a roommate right?"

"No, Dillon is my partner." Murphy corrected.

"Oh. Dylan not Dillon. Your girlfriend." Bellamy nodded in understanding.

"No, my boyfriends." Murphy corrected again, his tone much sharper and his shivering more contained. Bellamy froze a bit, his brain taking a "oh, alright, didn't guess" moment.

He realised he had stopped speaking, and stopped glancing over at Murphy.

"What, you gotta problem?" Murphy demanded of him, his eyes narrowed. Bellamy hastily shook his head.

"What? No, no, I'm bisexual so it's not like I can judge you for it either." Bellamy explained in a rush. Murphy nodded, his eye brows raised at the admission. It clearly surprised him as much as Murphy's own confession had surprised Bellamy.

"Oh, this is the best way for me to go. Are you sure you don't want to borrow my coat and just bring it to work tomorrow?" Bellamy asked and saw Murphy hesitate, clearly contemplating the pros, cons and the long walk home. Murphy bit the inside of his cheek but his resolve slowly crumbled.

"Alright. Are you sure?"

"Yes. Just take it."

"Thanks" Murphy's voice was grateful and meek. Bellamy nodded and with brief goodbyes they left each other.

Bellamy went home.

Murphy went to his flat.