a/n This week's smutty Saturday is a totally cheesy mess with Bellamy and Clarke taking a shower together at the dropship camp. Huge thanks to Zou for the idea and Stormkpr for betaing. Happy reading!
Bellamy thought the water rations were a good idea at the time.
He remembers it well. He was worried about the kids wandering off to the river alone, so having them stay in camp to bathe seemed like the best idea. But there's no way they could roll enough barrels of water into camp for everyone to wash generously. And so, the water rations were born. Each kid gets enough warm water each day to have a quick sponge bath.
He should have known that the teenagers in his care would find a creative solution. Creative solutions are their thing, aren't they? That's how they've survived all these months on the ground.
He doesn't know who first decided to pair up and wash together, to make the most of sharing more water. He does know that it was Jasper and Monty who made the shower, and that since that day kids have been teaming up in twos and threes and fours to shower together. Some of them even save their water rations for a couple of days so they can have a long, luxurious wash.
Bellamy was fine with this to begin with, more or less. He felt that his system had been somewhat undermined, perhaps, but he put up with it. Kids sharing showers doesn't do any harm, so long as no one gets upset and no friendships or relationships are strained in such a way as to damage morale around camp.
He was fine with it, until he saw Clarke heading to take a shower with Raven.
That's what broke him, in the end. He didn't spend all these months trying to be a cool, calm and collected leader – trying to make Clarke proud – just to watch her go take a shower with someone else. He has nothing against Raven, of course. She's a valuable member of the camp. But if Clarke is going to be naked and soapy with anyone, she's going to be naked and soapy with him, thank you very much.
So now he's at the wood shed, chopping logs with disproportionate vigour and waiting for his arousal and jealousy to die down.
"That log done something to hurt you, has it?" Miller asks, in an unimpressed sort of tone.
Bellamy startles, looks up at the guy who has become his best friend since they landed here – or at least, his best friend who isn't Clarke.
"No." He says, short and petulant like a child.
"You're not on woodshed duty today." Miller says mildly.
"Thought I'd come do something useful anyway." Bellamy mutters. "We can't all spend our days swanning around taking showers."
Miller laughs. Bellamy scowls deeply.
"I knew it was something like that. Don't let it get to you. It's only a shower."
Bellamy scowls ever harder and slogs his axe fiercely through a particularly inoffensive log.
…...
It's only a shower.
Bellamy can't get that thought out of his head, as the days pass by. The thing is, it's not just a shower to him. He's no fool – he knows that the kids are feeling pretty casual about who they wash with. Life on the ground has largely stripped them of their dignity, so they're more than happy to shower with anyone they feel safe to be naked with.
But Bellamy knows his jealousy stems from seeing the shower as more than that. He can't be so casual about it. He sees it as a precious opportunity to share a sweet moment of romantic domesticity with someone really special to him – not just a practical wash.
Yeah. His heart has always had a tendency to run away with him.
But Miller's words have value all the same, he supposes. They confirm that the rest of the camp see it as only a shower. So maybe Bellamy could invite Clarke for a shower to test the waters, so to speak. He could make some effort to create a sweet moment, and if she seems into it, that's great. But if she doesn't take the bait then there's no harm done and he won't ruin their easy, bantering friendship.
Or so he hopes.
He gathers his courage. He walks to the dropship, approaches Clarke in their makeshift med bay. He can do this. He can invite his good friend for a steamy shower – or at least for a practical shower, and see what he can do about some steam along the way.
"Hey, Bellamy. Haven't seen much of you lately." Clarke greets him at once.
He tries for a smile. "No. Sorry. Been busy." He hedges.
She frowns. "Not sure how you managed that. It's been quiet."
He nods. "Yeah. But – uh – the wood pile needed some work." He lies brazenly.
She doesn't call him out on it. She just nods, smiles, gestures to a seat at her side.
He doesn't take it. He's not going to be here long. He's going to issue the invitation and then go see if he can figure out where he left his dignity.
"Do you want to take a shower some time?" He manages to force the words out.
Her brows furrow. "With you, you mean?"
"Uh. Yeah. Yeah, I wondered if you'd be up for that."
"Sure. I have to admit I'm a little surprised, though. It seemed like you weren't that happy about the shower."
It's on the tip of his tongue to admit that he wasn't into the idea until he saw that she was into it. But he figures it won't help his case, here, if she realises he saw her heading in there with Raven and he comes across as petty or jealous.
"I'm not mad about it. But I guess I should see what all the fuss is about." He says, and he's pleased with how smooth and unbothered it comes out. This is more like how he usually acts around women, he seems to remember.
Clarke laughs a little. "I think the girls are relieved to be able to wash their hair properly. Some of the guys too, to be fair. And who doesn't like a relaxing shower?"
He nods. A relaxing shower isn't quite what he's hoping for, but he'll take that. He'll take pretty much anything as long as Clarke keeps laughing at his pathetic teasing.
"When do you want to do it?" She asks now. "Are you more a morning or evening shower person?"
"Morning." He decides firmly. He doesn't much mind what time of day he showers, but he's got a bit of a plan brewing, here.
"Great. Tomorrow?" Clarke asks.
"Sounds perfect. See you there."
…...
Bellamy wouldn't quite go as far as saying he's managed to locate his dignity, by the following morning. But by the time dawn is breaking he has located two massive water barrels, and filled them, and rolled them back to camp, and heated the water in buckets. He's aware that he's probably going slightly overboard, here, but in case it wasn't clear he really does like his new shower friend.
Sorry, his shower friend for this morning. They haven't figured out whether this is going to be a long term arrangement. He supposes that probably depends on how charming or conversely creepy he is today.
Once the water is warm, he fills the shower tank to the brim. This thing lasts about ten minutes filled up, he understands. He's done his research. He's trying quite hard to make this perfect, for the record. He leaves the rest of the water to heat so they can grab it if they need more.
By the time Clarke shows up, he's dressed just in his shorts, a towel slung over one arm, and the shower is ready to go.
"Great. You're already here." She says briskly. "Let's get some water then -"
"Already done." He breaks in, a little smug. "The tank's full."
"Full?" She asks, incredulous. "That's – what – six rations or so? That's a ten minute shower, Bellamy."
He tries to shrug carelessly. "It's OK. I didn't take anyone else's ration. Just went to get some water myself."
"Pretty sure that defeats the point of the water rations, Bellamy."
"Do you want to take this shower or not?"
She nods. "Yeah. Thanks, I guess."
She walks into the shower first. There's a moderately sized cubicle, open to the sky above, wooden panels all around it. The tank hangs over them, the water flow controlled by a simple tap. Simple. Simple to the likes of Monty, perhaps. Honestly, Bellamy finds himself pretty impressed. Although he does wonder how four people could shower together in here without being practically on top of each other.
It's only a shower. So much for that.
He supposes he had better take his shorts off. Clarke is already stripping, hanging her clothes and towel on the back of the door. She's down to her underwear, now, and Bellamy has to admit these are not the most romantic circumstances to be seeing her half-naked but the thrill of it is shooting right to his cock all the same.
He swallows. He needs to keep himself under control. He shucks his shorts, reveals his nakedness beneath.
Clarke is either totally unconcerned as she removes her underwear, or else very good at acting. Either way, the two of them are now standing stark naked in the shower and looking expectantly at each other.
Bellamy is mostly looking at Clarke's face, for the record. He's proud of himself for that. It's not easy, but he's managing it.
"Here. Soap leaves." Clarke grabs the dark leaves from her pocket, sets them next to the tap.
"Thanks." He nods. He's used them once or twice whilst washing himself. But honestly, since he came to the ground he's mostly gone for water, scrubbing, and hoping for the best. It doesn't seem like the time or place to be fussy about cleanliness.
"Let's do this." Clarke decides, brisk. She reaches for the tap, starts the warm water flowing.
Bellamy sighs as the first drops fall. He's been a little grumpy about this shower, sure. But now he's here he's beginning to understand what a good idea it is. There's something inherently relaxing about a good shower, about the flow of warm water and taking a moment to do nothing but wash.
"You OK?" Clarke asks.
He blinks, realises he had his eyes closed. "Yeah. Sorry. Just – you were right. This is good."
She grins. "You haven't got to the good part yet. Come over here, stand right under the water."
He does as she asked, somewhat mesmerized by her voice and the situation tangling together. Standing under the water means stepping right up close to her, into her personal space. There's just a hair's breadth between them, now, as he really feels the water tumble down onto his chest.
Then she steps forward, her breasts pressing into him lightly. He gasps. He's sure that's an accident – or just a fact of showering with a friend. She means nothing by it, most likely.
"Good, huh?" She asks.
"Yeah." He swallows. "Really relaxing."
She smiles softly at him. "Happy to hear it. You deserve to take a break once in a while."
"You do, too." He argues on instinct. "You do so much round here -"
"Bellamy. Be quiet for a minute and enjoy your shower."
He nods, feeling somehow meek. He likes arguing with Clarke – it's one of his favourite hobbies, in fact. But sometimes he loves to just sit back and let her give the orders, loves to see the look of approval in her eyes and hear her words of praise when he does as she asks.
He stands there under the water for a few seconds. He should probably move things along, he frets. Ten minutes is a decent amount of time, and they have more water outside by the fire. But this moment isn't going to last forever. He should -
"You want me to wash your back?" Clarke asks, crushing a handful of soap leaves in her hands and gesturing towards him with them.
He gulps. Is this a thing platonic shower friends do? Or does he dare to hope that she is trying to push things in the same direction he is?
"Sure. Thanks."
She gives a small smile, sets her hands on his biceps and starts turning him firmly on the spot. He's sorry to be turning away from her face, in some ways. He's sorry that he won't have her breasts pressing into his chest any more. But he's not about to say no to having her run her hands all over him.
It's utterly blissful, having her wash his back. He's pretty sure cleaning his own skin is not actually a task he needs help with – he's managed twenty or more years just fine, thank you very much. But in this moment, as she runs her hands over his muscles, massages the soap gently into his skin, he thinks it might be the best thing he's ever felt in his life. He's never felt so relaxed, nor so cherished and looked after – or at least, not in as long as he can remember.
The awkward thing about this? It's doing dangerous things to his cock. He can feel it hardening, pricking up in interest even as he tries to will it to subside. Clarke's going to get freaked out if she sees he's got a raging erection when he turns around again, he fears.
Her hands start to massage a little more firmly. There's something of a knot in the muscles just below his right shoulder – probably from all that unnecessary wood-chopping, he fears, or else from carting water around this morning. Her fingers find it and tease it out, and her ministrations feel so damn good he groans out loud.
Shit. He should not have done that.
"Does that feel good?" She asks.
He hesitates. The fact she asked that implies that she's not put off, right? She doesn't hate the idea that she's making him feel good.
"It feels great." He admits. Even that is only half way to the truth.
"In that case I'll keep going." She murmurs, moving down to rub her hands along the base of his rib cage.
"No." He decides.
Her hands freeze. He curses himself. He was trying to sound confident, there, but instead he fears he's only sounded ungrateful.
"No – I mean, it's your turn." He explains. "Let me do something nice for you. You said the girls like having chance to wash their hair? You weren't talking about yourself by any chance?"
"I might have been." She concedes lightly.
"Then let me wash your hair." He suggests, turning on the spot.
Too late, he realises his mistake. His giveaway erection sticking straight out in front of him. He looks down at it, over half way to mortified. Then he tries to look up at her, but his eyes get stuck on her full breasts, somehow.
This is a disaster.
"You sure you're not too distracted to wash my hair?" Clarke teases lightly, eyeing his erection with a pointed look.
He laughs, treasures her more than ever for breaking the awkward moment.
"I got this." He reaches for some soap leaves. "I mean it, you deserve the chance to chill out as well." He insists.
She admits defeat with good grace. She turns on the spot, then shuffles back into him a little. Honestly, she's too close for practicality, now. She's pressing up against him in places, and the head of his cock is nudging firmly against her.
Maybe that's why she's here, he dares to hope.
It makes for an awkward angle when he's trying to wash her hair, but he does his best. He massages her scalp gently, teases out the tangles with his fingers. She sighs a little, leans her head into his hands, so he figures he can't be doing this so terribly wrong. He used to wash his baby sister's hair when she was tiny, but strangely enough this is a rather different experience. He's never shared a moment so comfortably, casually intimate with anyone before. Something about watching Clarke relax and let him wash her is even more special than sex, he decides. Or at least, it's more special than the casual sex he has had in his life so far. He wonders whether maybe more personal sex with Clarke would be still better.
At last, he cannot pretend to be usefully washing her hair any longer. He steers her right underneath the flow of water, protects her eyes from stray drops and soap with his cupped hand as he rinses her hair. She takes the opportunity to step back against him a little closer, to angle her butt so she's rubbing against his cock.
He's pretty convinced that's not an accident, now. And he's fairly certain that what they've been doing in here today is not what most friends do in the shower.
At least, he hopes that's true.
He drops his hands from her head. He stands there, motionless, leaves Clarke to decide where she wants to lead them next.
She spins on the spot and kisses him full on the lips.
He kisses her back, because he's no fool. He brings his hands up to rest at her waist, pulls her close as he traces the seam of her lips with his tongue. He lets his hips press forward into her, no longer worried in the slightest about scaring her off with the hard length of his cock. She's shown him what she wants, now, and he's not about to make her ask twice. He knows Clarke well enough to be certain that she's feeling confident and happy, in this moment. It's plain to read in the relaxed arms around his neck and the fiery way she's kissing him.
He sighs into her mouth, wonders about taking this forward another step. He sweeps his hand from her waist down over the curves of her butt, prepares to -
The water shuts off, one last trickle running sadly down his nose.
Clarke laughs into his mouth. He pulls back, grins down at her. "You want me to go get the rest of the water?" He offers.
She laughs louder. "I think the shower has served its purpose, Bellamy. You want to head back to your place to finish this or mine?"
The shower has served its purpose. That's an interesting thought, he decides. As if, maybe, she wanted to lead him here almost as much as he was desperate to follow.
That's what gives him the confidence to take her hand and take the initiative, too. Clarke wants him, every bit as much as anyone else he has ever taken to his tent wanted him. He can stop worrying, now.
"Come on. We're heading back to mine." He informs her smartly.
She laughs. "Do you think we should wear something on the walk over there?" She asks pointedly.
He admits defeat. He hands her a towel and watches, mesmerized, as she squeezes her hair somewhat dryer. He could swear he didn't have so much of a thing about her hair until today. Sure, he's always thought it was pretty, a nice colour and framing her face perfectly. But he had more of an immediate attraction to her thoughtful eyes or her happy grin or, of course, to her stunning figure.
But he likes her face more. Honest. He's done very well at keeping his eyes on her face, this morning, and he thinks he deserves a treat for that.
Huh. It seems like a treat might be what he's about to get.
As he watches her towel dry her hair, he decides that it's maybe not her hair itself he's so obsessed with as the new memories he now associates with it. He likes knowing, too, that giving her scalp a massage and playing with her hair is such a good way of getting her to relax.
Maybe he ought to take that idea a little further.
"You want to let me comb your hair when we get to my place? Maybe braid it for you?" He asks softly.
She peers up at him. "That's not quite what I thought we were heading there for." She teases lightly.
He laughs. "I know. But – maybe we could do this first? More relaxing foreplay?" He's never suggested hair braiding as foreplay before now, but it feels perfect in this moment.
She nods at once. "I'd like that." She agrees, wrapping her towel around herself and clutching it over her breasts. "Come on." With that, she gathers her clothes and unlocks the cubicle.
He wraps his own towel around his waist and steps out into the camp. Very few people are awake, even now. The rest of the water he fetched is still warming by the fire, but he figures some lucky person can have a warm shower. He's in a generous mood, right now, buoyed by the happiness of how well this morning is going.
They make it to his tent. Clarke hands him a comb from the pocket of the jeans she has slung over her arm. It's not a large comb, but he thinks that might be an advantage. He's got an excuse to spend a good long time working on her hair. He casts about for a suitable hair tie, finds a length of twine. It's not going to be the most ornate hair tie in the world but he knows Clarke doesn't worry about things like that.
"Sit on the bed?" He asks her, a little hoarse.
She does as he asks, more or less. She drops her towel along the way, in a heap by the door with her clothes. Frankly he's not surprised.
He does the same, leaves his towel and joins her on the bed. She's sitting cross legged and he reaches his legs out either side of her so they're nestled as close as possible. He starts combing her hair, a small section at a time, holding it near the roots to be sure he's not tugging.
"You really know how to braid hair?" Clarke asks softly.
"Yeah. Used to practice on my sister. This – uh – this is a little different." He jokes, tense.
She laughs. "I sure hope so."
"You doing OK? Not bored sitting here?"
"Not bored at all." She reassures him, reaching a hand out to stroke his bare leg. "You were right. This is lovely. Calming. It's actually really putting me in the mood."
He smiles, then realises she can't actually see him. He wonders for a silly moment whether perhaps she can feel his affection in the air.
No. That's foolish. He ought to just tell her how he feels.
"I'm happy to hear that. I've been wondering how to get you in the mood for a while." He admits, beginning to part her hair into three.
"Yeah? I've been wondering the same thing about you." She tells him, sounding almost sheepish.
"I'm pretty much in the mood whenever I see you." He jokes, self-conscious.
"Yeah. Me too." She laughs a little too tightly. "Or at least – I don't know. Most of the time. Maybe not so much when I'm stressed."
He hums. He can see her point. He always finds her hot, in pretty much any moment. But it is true he feels more calm and confident and truly in the mood to make love to her now than he has ever found himself feeling before. Taking a relaxing shower together was a seriously good idea.
"That makes sense." He says softly. "We could always do something like this again sometime. The shower or the hair braiding or just a good hug."
"Or a back massage." She suggests brightly. "Would you like that? To try this again?"
"We're doing this out of order, aren't we?" He laughs. "I know we didn't get to the sex yet. But this morning has been perfect." He admits, voice raw with honesty.
She turns around, then. She turns right around in his lap and kisses him full on the lips, as he tries clumsily to keep hold of the ends of her hair.
"You're right. Perfect." She agrees. "Honestly, I'd give you a back massage in the shower again even if the sex doesn't work out."
"It'll work out." He says, utterly confident. There's no way they can be this compatible, this comfortable and happy together, and it not work out.
She nods, turns back around and lets him finish his braiding.
"Thanks for this morning. Thanks for getting me to take a break." She whispers.
"Any time." He says at once. "You, too."
He's finished the braid, now. He secures the ends, gives Clarke a cuddle around her waist for a minute. His cock is telling him to get a move on, but his head and heart are for once united in telling him to enjoy the moment and cherish a little quiet time with Clarke.
"Can we get to the next part now?" She asks, pert, covering her hand with his where it lies on her waist and squeezing hard.
He laughs, brings his hand up to cup her breast. "Something like this?" He asks.
"Yeah, that's a start." She agrees.
He fondles her breasts for a moment. She tries to grind back against his cock as best as she can when they're both sitting flat on his mattress. He takes pity on her, tips her forward onto hands and knees before him. That seems like a simple way to take the next step without moving around too much or ruining the mood.
"This OK?" He checks, getting into a kneeling position behind her.
"Perfect."
He checks how she's doing with a finger, then with two. She wet and ready and utterly relaxed. Apparently he wasn't the only person who found that hair braiding rather sensual. He kneels up high, eases his cock in place. Clarke doesn't just take it easily – she actually pushes back against him to get him buried more deeply.
Of course she does. She's Clarke.
He rocks his hips slowly a few times, trying to get a feel for what Clarke likes. He's used to hooking up with new people, so he feels pretty confident about reading the situation and adjusting his actions accordingly. But that said, he really is pretty attached to Clarke and determined to get this right.
"You can go faster." She offers.
He bites his lip, annoyed with himself. He should have known that from the way she's trying to grind back against him. She clearly wants a little more. He should have just dared to go for it.
He gets stuck in more urgently, swinging his hips into her, feels her respond by rocking back to meet him in turn. She's making some seriously hot noises, now, groaning out mangled attempts at his name, so he's convinced it's going better.
He's not perfectly happy with it, though. Sure, this is Clarke, and that much is awesome. But by choosing this position he feels like they've lost some of the relaxed intimacy that brought them this far. He tries reaching down to cup her breasts, and that's a bit of an improvement. But he can't move his hips so quick like this, and anyway, he selfishly wants more. He wants her to touch him, wants to feel her gentle hands all over him like he did when she rubbed his back in the shower.
"Can we maybe try something different? Something where we can hold each other better?" He huffs out the question, breathless.
She nods, eases her hips forward until his cock slips out of her. "What are you suggesting?"
"Maybe you just flip onto your back? So we're front to front at least? And could you... touch me more?" He asks, self-conscious.
"Sure. Yeah. What do you like?" She sounds eager, he notes, and he feels something a lot like relief at that.
He hesitates. He honestly doesn't know what he likes. He's had a lot of sex in his time, by most people's standards, he suspects. But he's never really been in the business of considering what he likes or asking for what he wants. He tends to use sex to scratch an itch or to get a buzz out of getting people off. This morning with Clarke is the first time he's ever really thought of sex quite like this – as a deeply personal treat, perhaps.
"I really liked how you were touching my back earlier." He murmurs. "And I guess – I always like it when we hug. And I liked having you leaning back into me when I was doing your hair. So just a lot of close contact, I guess." He concludes, feeling somewhat inadequate.
"Sure. I'll do my best. Let me know what feels good." She says brightly.
He nods. She lies flat on her back, reaches out for him. He takes the hint. He slips his cock back into place, starts moving confidently. He's a lot better at this bit than talking about what he likes, he notes.
Clarke is certainly not half-hearted. She wraps her legs right around his hips and has her hands splayed on his shoulder blades. This is more like it, he decides. This feels more special and personal and Clarke.
"That's good." He gasps against her neck.
"You too." She pants. "So good."
He grins to himself, reaches back to her lips for a sloppy kiss. He doesn't mean it to be sloppy, it just comes out that way because he's smiling so hard. But his smile starts to slip away as he moves faster, as pleasure creeps up on him. He's too busy starting to see stars to have much control over his facial expression, at this point.
That's when Clarke sends him totally unhinged. That's when she scoots her legs further up his back so she's hugging him high round his waist.
He comes, hard, groaning her name. He's never felt anything like it in his life, totally surrounded by Clarke. It's utterly overwhelming. He wanted to hold on for her, wanted to make it good for her before he -
Oh. Oh. It doesn't matter. She's there, too, bucking her hips up to meet him and clenching around him before his cock has had chance to soften inside of her.
He gives up. He stops pretending to be calm and in control, here. He simply gives way, collapsing onto her chest, and relishes the feeling of her hands stroking over his shoulders.
"I did not know you could get your legs that high." Bellamy jokes, when he more or less has his breath back.
She laughs, slips her feet slowly down over his butt and back to the floor. "I was very motivated. Good?"
"Incredible."
"Yeah. That's the word I would use." She agrees.
They lie there a little longer. Bellamy wonders if they can stay here all day. He should have asked for an evening shower, he curses himself without heat. He could have snuck away in the afternoon to get the water. And then they could be settling in to spend the night together right now.
"You want to take another shower this evening?" Clarke asks, and he thinks she's only half joking.
"We shouldn't. I'm thinking we should give the spare water to some of the younger ones."
"Yeah. You're right." She agrees easily. "You're so good to them."
He feels his heart warm a little at that. It's silly, but he always likes it when Clarke notices he's done a kind thing.
"We don't have to take a shower to get the other good things." He muses out loud. "Pretty sure you can still give me a back massage and I can still comb your hair and we can still have sex without a shower."
"Great. Tonight?" She asks, without missing a beat.
"Tonight. Definitely." He agrees.
"Can we lie here a couple more minutes? Just before we -"
"Bellamy! Are you in there?" Clarke's question is interrupted by Miller's voice from outside the tent.
"I'm here. Don't come in. I've got company." Bellamy calls back without moving a muscle.
"We need you. One of the kids has a bee sting and we can't find Clarke and -"
"That's because I'm in here." Clarke calls straight back, meeting Bellamy's eye with a teasing grin.
He laughs. She laughs. Outside the tent, Miller is perfectly silent. And then -
"I knew it was something like that." Miller says, firm. Confident, and also definitely having altogether too much fun, Bellamy thinks.
"We should go fix that bee sting." Clarke whispers.
Bellamy sighs. He knows that's true. He knows that the kids don't seem able to fix anything without him and Clarke around to tell them they're doing the right thing. Being cast out by the adults of the Ark has made a mess of their self-confidence - that's surely no surprise. And he knows Clarke will be back here tonight, and her healing hands and soothing smile along with her.
But in case it wasn't already clear, he really doesn't want to get out of bed.
He forces himself to do it. He eases away from Clarke, feels his limp cock slip out of her. He just had that whole conversation with Miller with his cock in Clarke's pussy, he thinks, with a little ripple of amused pride. He's going to spend a lot of time with his cock in Clarke's pussy, in the future, it looks like. And he's going to spend a lot of time with Clarke in his bed.
He sits up. Clarke sits up too, and reaches towards her clothes. She can't quite reach them sitting down, so he takes pity on her and hands them over to her. It's domestic in a different way from the shower and all that followed, but he likes it all the same.
"I'll catch you later." He says, as he dresses quickly. He really does need to remind himself that this will last.
"Yeah. Don't invite anyone else for a shower while I'm fixing this bee sting." She says, evidently trying for a joke, but not quite succeeding.
"Obviously. I'm not going to be showering with anyone else now, am I?" He asks, as if the very question is absurd. That's because, in his opinion, it is.
"Great. Glad we settled that. Exclusive shower friends. Got it." She teases more confidently now, reaches up to kiss him full on the lips. "Take care of that shoulder."
He nods. "Yeah. Have a good day, Princess."
She gets out the door first. Before he's even through the canvas she's already talking with Miller, chattering away at a mile a minute as she asks about the bee sting. The two of them walk away, leaving Bellamy standing there and staring at their retreating backs.
No. Not quite. Just as she's about to round the corner of the dropship, Clarke throws a quick smile at him over her shoulder, her beautiful braided hair bouncing as she moves.
a/n Thanks for reading!
