"Guys, this is ridiculous!" Bellamy begged as he was being dragged by both arms as Miller and Octavia brought him down the city street to the club.
"No, it's going to be fun! Come on, Bell. You've been studying non-stop forever this week. Live a little!" Octavia encouraged him.
The group showed their ID's at the door and they were let inside. The music pounded in their ears and vibrated every molecule in their bodies as they made their way past the stage to the bar. Octavia ordered their drinks and they all turned to face the stage where both men and women strippers danced, showered in money.
"This is embarrassing. What if someone from school catches me here?" Bellamy shouted to Octavia and Miller over the booming music and catcalls from the audience.
"Then they'll see that you know how to have a good time!" Octavia laughed.
Bellamy rolled his eyes and Miller patted him on the back reassuringly. Bellamy knocked back his drink in one gulp and looked up at the dancers on the stage. A pair of familiar, icy eyes flashed by him and it took Bellamy a minute to place the gorgeous face – Murphy.
"Oh, hell," Bellamy sighed in exasperation.
"What?" Miller turned to him in concern.
"One of my classmates is here," Bellamy answered.
"Oh? Who? Maybe they'll join us for drinks," Miller smiled, turning back to the bar to order another for himself.
"No, no, I mean he works here," Bellamy corrected.
"No shit!" Miller slapped a ten on the counter and took his drink from the bartender.
"He's in my gen. ed. Philosophy class. I can't be here," Bellamy straightened up off the counter and headed for the exit.
"Bell! Wait!" Octavia shouted after him.
As Bellamy made his way across the club, he accidentally caught eyes with Murphy. Murphy seemed a little surprised but he smiled down at Bellamy as he walked past. Bellamy escaped out, into the night air, the cold rushing over him. He turned down the sidewalk and into an empty alleyway outside the club, taking out a cigarette from his back pocket. He popped it into his mouth and went to light it when Octavia turned around the corner.
"What are you doing?" Octavia shouted at him, grabbing the cigarette out of his mouth and throwing it on the ground.
"Relaxing. Isn't that what you wanted me to do?" Bellamy snapped back at her.
"Those don't actually relax you, you know," Octavia corrected him.
"I don't really care," Bellamy rolled his eyes at her. He scuffed his boots at the ground, unable to look up at his sister.
"You're being a real ass," Octavia burst, "I'm going to go back inside and have some fun without you. Enjoy your lonely night out."
With that, Octavia spun on her heel and stormed off, leaving Bellamy to his thoughts. He took out another cigarette and placed it into his mouth. The back alley door to the club swung open wildly as Bellamy lit his cigarette, taking a long drag from it. He turned to the opened door as the interior music and voices flooded into the alleyway. The door closed behind Murphy, who was straightening out his jacket. Bellamy took the cigarette out of his mouth and blew out the smoke, putting his head down as Murphy walked his way.
"It's Bellamy, right?" Murphy asked nervously.
"Huh?" Bellamy perked up, unenthusiastic about being recognized or acknowledged. Why couldn't he have kept walking?
"Oh, yeah. Philosophy with Julian, right?" Bellamy stated.
"Yeah," Murphy agreed, "I didn't pick you one for going to clubs like this."
"I'm here with friends. I mean – they dragged me here," Bellamy corrected himself.
"Sure," Murphy smirked devilishly, teasing Bellamy.
"So what's a guy like you workin' at a place like this," Bellamy attempted to flirt. Fail. His face burned red.
"Gotta pay tuition somehow. My apartment eats money and I don't exactly have the parents to help out," Murphy recovered the conversation, attempting to brush it off casually.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Bellamy frowned, taking another drag from his cigarette. Murphy quickly pulled it from his lips and chucked it to the ground, stomping on it.
"Goddamn it," Bellamy groaned.
"Saving you from yourself," Murphy stated plainly, looking up at him seriously.
"Thanks," Bellamy answered with sarcasm.
"Anytime," Murphy smiled before starting to walk off toward the street.
"Hey, wait!" Bellamy called him back. Murphy stopped and turned to him.
"Maybe I can help you," Bellamy suggested.
Bellamy held the door open for Murphy as he brought in the last box of his stuff into his apartment.
"All I'm saying is, you're analysis on AI is bullshit. Can't you just watch a movie and enjoy it for what it's worth?" Murphy continued their argument that had lasted since he started moving his movie collection into Bellamy's room.
"I'm a writer. I have to over analyze this stuff," Bellamy smiled at him as he closed the door behind Murphy.
"You don't have to do anything," Murphy chuckled.
"Well excuse me for having an over-analytic brain that picks up on underlying themes and subtext," Bellamy laughed.
"You're excused. I mean, it's all subjective, after all. You watch a movie however you want," Murphy settled. He plopped the box onto his bed and opened it. Bellamy sat down on the couch and picked up his notebook to start writing. He would occasionally look up to watch Murphy uncover some of his abstract paintings – all obscured body parts. Bellamy looked back up to Murphy and smiled, but it did not go unnoticed.
"What?" Murphy smiled shyly at him.
"They're good. Very thought provoking," Bellamy beamed.
"Oh, don't get started," Murphy scolded jokingly, "What are you writing there, anyway?"
"Something though provoking," Bellamy teased, pressing the notebook to his chest as if to hide the words on the paper.
"Very funny," Murphy looked at him, admiring. His eyes flickered up to the clock that was over Bellamy's head, "Shit, I gotta get to work."
"You're still working at that place?" Bellamy asked, disappointed. He set down his notebook and pen on the couch and stood up.
"Unless you want to find me another job that I can actually do, I don't really have a choice," Murphy replied, getting changed before Bellamy. Bellamy's eyes ran over Murphy's bare skin while he wasn't looking and snapped back up to look at Murphy's face once he emerged into his fresh shirt.
"Well, be safe," Bellamy stated as he walked Murphy to the door.
"Why? Or else you won't have anything thought provoking to write about?" Murphy smiled slyly. Bellamy blushed as Murphy kissed him on the cheek before leaving.
Murphy returned home to the smell of pizza. Home-made freakin' pizza with freshly crushed tomatoes, mozzarella and herbs. Bellamy had just taken it out of the oven when Murphy collapsed on his bed in exhaustion.
"Have you even eaten, today?" Bellamy called to him from the kitchen.
"Not that I can remember," Murphy's voice was muffled by the pillows that he had dove face first into.
"Then come eat," Bellamy commanded.
"I'm really not hungry-"
"I made home-made pizza. You're gonna get your ass on the couch and eat a freakin' slice," Bellamy demanded.
Murphy got up and turned to him, smiling.
"Put something on Netflix. Whatever you want," Bellamy suggested as he poured them drinks. Murphy moved to the couch as directed and turned on the television. Bellamy handed him a plate and his drink and returned a moment later from the kitchen with his own. The two sat down on the couch, curling up with one another and ate Bellamy's homemade pizza, which was freakin' delicious.