a/n Welcome to smutty Saturday! Here we've got a happy alternate reality where Clarke makes it to the Ring with the others in Praimfaya. Huge thanks to Stormkpr for betaing this. Happy reading!
There's not much to do in space.
That's why Clarke is currently sitting up in her bed, pretending to read a battered novel, and wondering whether Raven needs help with literally anything. It's been an odd change of pace, these last couple of months since Praimfaya. Clarke knows she ought to have used the time for healing and making peace with everything that happened, but she's still struggling to do that. She prefers to be kept busy, really.
When there's a knock at the door she almost jumps for joy. Finally, someone wants her to do something.
"Come in." She calls, eager.
It's Bellamy who sticks his head around the door, and she brightens even further.
"What can I help you with?" She asks, already swinging her legs out of bed.
To her surprise – and confusion – he doesn't answer right away. He's still dawdling at the door, his jaw tense.
"Bellamy?"
"Can I come in? I want to ask you about something."
She frowns. She invited him in only seconds ago – she remembers that clearly. Why does he look so... flustered? She nods, firmly, beckons him to sit beside her on the bed.
He doesn't sit beside her on the bed. He enters the room, closes the door, and then paces in the small space before her as he talks.
"I've been reading this book." He begins, which shouldn't be a surprise. But the tone he says it in tells her this was not a work on Roman emperors.
"Yes?" She prompts him, growing nervous at his strange attitude.
"It's a book about sex. Sort of a... how-to guide for better sex. And there's this whole chapter about giving oral to a woman that was really interesting. And so – so I'd like to practise. With you. If you want to, of course."
She gapes at him, stunned. He read a book about giving oral and thought of her? Is this a dream? Has she accidentally walked straight into one of her own fantasies?
He prattles on before she can answer. "It's just – Harper and Emori are taken. I don't trust Echo. And I slept with Raven one time before and she wasn't impressed – I don't think my pride can take asking her again." He gives a stiff chuckle, demonstrates to her that he was trying to make one of his little nervous jokes, there.
Clarke's heart sinks. This isn't one of her fantasies – this is a practical suggestion, based on lack of other available options.
All the same, she's going to agree to it. Of course she is – this is Bellamy. And anyway, there's not much to do in space.
"Sure. We can practise together, if you want to." She says, as if they're talking about chess or playing piano, not sex.
Bellamy's jaw loosens, and he grins a relieved grin. "Great. You want to try now? Or make plans for later?"
"I'm free now." She says.
She's been free for almost every waking hour of the last week, after all. And the notion of making plans to have Bellamy practise his oral skills on her is a little intimidating. She thinks it's probably best to get on with this before she can overthink it. After all, overthinking things is what she does best.
On that note, she gets on with asking him a lot of logistical questions. They maybe come out sounding slightly frantic, a bit like babbling, she fears. "How is this going to work? Do you want me on the bed? Dressed or undressed? Should we set ground rules? Will there be kissing?"
She wants there to be kissing. She wants it so badly she can feel the words dancing on the tip of her tongue. But she senses that kissing Bellamy could be dangerous – addictive, even – and could be a little too close to putting her heart on the line.
"There will be kissing." He states, firm, then darts his eyes to hers as if panicked. "I mean, if that's OK. It'll be better if we kiss for a bit first. The book is clear on that."
"Of course." If the book says they have to kiss, then naturally they must kiss. If Bellamy is determined to take his practice so seriously, Clarke is more than happy to match him.
"Great."
There's a loaded pause. Bellamy stops his pacing, stares at her, hard. Clarke isn't quite sure how this works now – how does she go from agreeing to oral with the best friend she's somewhat in love with, to actually doing it?
She kisses him. He did say there should be kissing, after all. So she presses her lips to his, slowly but decisively. He gets the idea, thankfully. He kisses her back, unhurried but insistent, bringing a hand up to cradle her cheek.
"This OK?" She pulls away briefly to ask him.
"Yeah. We should kiss for a bit to, you know, get in the mood and that."
She supposes that's what he read in his book, but she wonders about telling him he's wasting his time. She's been in the mood almost since the moment he walked in here, and definitely since the moment he said he wanted to go down on her.
All the same, she keeps kissing him. She's not sure whether she'll ever have another chance to kiss Bellamy, so it seems sensible to make the most of it while it lasts.
When it shifts from kissing to something more like making out, it's Bellamy who leads the way. He starts running his hands over more of Clarke's skin, then up her shirt and over her back. She gets the idea, allows herself to explore his toned shoulders. Again, it seems to her that it's worth making the most of this while she has the chance.
"You doing alright?" He asks softly.
"Yeah. Great." She tries not to sound too overwhelmingly enthusiastic, and probably fails.
"Do you think we're ready to move on?"
She pulls right back to look him in the eye, brow quirked in challenge. "You're the one who's practising. You tell me."
He laughs. She likes the way he laughs when she argues back – she's pretty sure it's a specific laugh, actually, that he saves for exactly that and no other occasions. It makes her feel like she's special to him, perhaps, and that what they share is something unique.
"Let's try it. But let me know if you need to me to stop, yeah?"
She nods. And then, because she's a rather practical sort of a woman, she undoes her belt and tugs her trousers and underwear down her legs. Bellamy averts his eyes, which makes her giggle slightly. That's the first time since they started kissing that he's actually bothered looking awkward. And then she pauses, hesitant. If this were a real, meaningful sexual encounter built on mutual attraction, she'd want the rest of her clothes off, and Bellamy's too. But if this is only practice, and he only needs access to her genitals, is she supposed to undress completely?
"Is this OK?" She asks him, in the end.
"Yeah. Yeah, sure."
There's another pause.
"You could maybe take your socks off." He suggests, apparently physically incapable of looking her in the eye as he makes the suggestion.
She does take her socks off. Not because she follows orders from Bellamy as a general rule, but because she finds herself strangely tempted to be compliant, in this moment. If she's helpful and accommodating and does what he asks, might he be more interested in trying this again some time? She sort of hopes he might choose to practise with her again, if she's a good test subject today.
Socks removed, she lies down on the bed, legs spread, and waits for whatever happens next.
What happens next is a lot, it turns out. Bellamy settles between her legs and then all at once his tongue is at her clit and his fingers are poking at her entrance and it's all a bit much, really.
She flinches away, surprised. The girls at the dropship always raved about his skills, and he's even gone and read a book about the matter since then. Why is he suddenly attacking her like this?
"Sorry." He mutters, head ducked.
"No, it's OK. Just wasn't expecting that. Maybe – start slower?"
He nods. She flushes at the mere sight of him, there, curls bobbing as he nods with his head between her legs. She's going to dream sweet dreams tonight.
The second approach is a bit more reasonable. He starts with his tongue again, but this time he gives her a moment to get used to the sensation before his fingers join the party. When he said he wanted to practise his oral on her, she didn't realise he meant anything quite so... full on as this. She didn't realise she'd be full of his thick fingers, his strong hand grinding against her, as well as his tongue dancing on her clit.
She's not sure what to make of it. In some ways, it's really good. She can tell he's read a book – he's pressing all the right buttons, all at once, so thoroughly that it's almost overwhelming. But she cannot help but feel that he's not reading her very well. She prefers a slower buildup, more time to enjoy the moment. She's feeling almost overstimulated here from how quickly he's just dived straight in. She wonders about saying something, but she's not sure what she would say. This isn't bad, not at all. And he did only want to practise, so boring him with tips about her personal preferences probably isn't very useful right now. He's presumably more interested in feedback as to whether his technique is sound which, to be fair, it absolutely is.
Her orgasm creeps up on her quickly, but it doesn't crash over her as some colossal wave. It's there, and it's pleasant, but it's a little weaker than she's used to. She's just not had long enough to get really wound up.
And then Bellamy raises his head from between her legs, looks up at her, and it hits her all over again. This is him. Bellamy. Her closest friend in the world, who she's a little in love with. And he just gave her a very competent but slightly underwhelming orgasm.
"How was that?" He asks, chin wet and eyes nervous.
She swallows. "Good."
"Is that all the feedback I'm getting?" He's trying to tease, but he looks even more nervous now.
"Sorry. It must be a good book. You really know what you're doing. It was great. It's only – I guess I prefer a slower build up. Fewer things at once. And just a bit... calmer, you know? More relaxed. It felt like you were trying too hard."
The look that spreads over his face is one she has never seen him wear before. It's clearly not a happy expression, but beyond that, she cannot entirely make it out. Is he embarrassed? Annoyed that he wasted his time? Frustrated with her less-than-useful feedback?
"Sorry." She repeats, helplessly. "You really are good."
He shakes his head. "No, I'm the one who should be sorry. I should have communicated better with you."
She waits a moment for him to say the book recommends communication, but it seems that they're talking about Bellamy and Clarke right now, not this mysterious manual. She therefore presses on.
"That's OK. Honestly, it was a good way to spend an afternoon." She tries to tease. He brightens a little, so she tries for some more conversation. "Why are you reading a book of sex instructions, anyway?"
He shrugs. "There's not a lot to do in space, is there? And I like reading."
"And you like sex." She presses, reaching out to poke him with a bare toe. She's still naked from the waist down, but she decides that's fair. He's still on his elbows between her legs.
He grins slightly. It doesn't quite look like his usual easy grin, but it's progress. "Yeah. You're right. You should let me know if ever you need to get off, because it sounds like I need more practice."
"I'm always ready to help you practise." She says lightly, as if this is no big deal. As if they're not currently negotiating making this some kind of regular arrangement.
"Yeah?" He asks, still really rather close to her crotch.
"Yeah. I mean, maybe not right now. But later or another day." She'd tell this man almost anything, she thinks, but she's not quite ready to tell him she's usually done after coming once.
"Sounds good."
He scoots back off the bed, stands up. He finds her clothes and tosses them to her, smiling slightly. She supposes that this is them done, now. Their unexpected new hobby, over for the day.
"You doing anything this afternoon?" He asks, carefully casual, as he wanders to the door.
"Not really." There's not much to do in space. She seems to remember that has already been mentioned.
"You want to watch a movie or something?"
This is dangerous territory, she thinks. Since they came back to the Ring, it is true that the two of them do seem to have become friends who hang out watching movies together, just the pair of them. But if they're particular friends who are now also practising their oral together, does that mean something a little different?
She doesn't know. But she's rather fond of Bellamy, so she agrees to watch a movie all the same.
…...
Their second practice session is scarcely twenty-four hours later. This time they watch the movie first, and when the credits roll, Bellamy turns to her with a grin. It's not a very convincing grin – there's a nervous tension in his jaw that makes it more of a grimace. In fact, the whole ensemble has her guessing what he's about to ask before he's even asked it.
"You up for giving me another chance to practise?" He says lightly.
"Yeah, always. Your place or mine?" That probably sounded too eager, but it can't be helped now.
"Mine is closer."
They don't speak as they walk down the hallway. They don't often spend time in silence together, and it feels odd. But Clarke cannot bring herself to discuss what they're about to do, and it would feel silly to make trivial conversation about something else in this moment. So it is that the silence stretches on.
They arrive at Bellamy's room, and he closes the door behind them. Clarke steps forward, ready to make a start on the kissing.
But Bellamy has a question to ask, it turns out.
"So – what do you prefer? You said yesterday that it wasn't quite how you like it."
She shakes her head. "It was fine. It was good. We're here so you can practise what you've read so, really, just do what you think."
Now he's shaking his head. "No, Clarke. There's no point practising if it's not good for my partner, is there? And maybe you have something to teach me that the book doesn't cover. Today we're going to do it how you like it."
She frowns, considering. "You want that?"
"Yeah. Tell me exactly what you like." He insists.
Convinced, she tells him. "I liked the kissing last time. I always like to start with lots of kissing. But then I guess I'd have us take more clothes off? It felt kind of silly, you being fully dressed. I could feel your T shirt against my legs and it wasn't as nice as skin."
He nods, a thoughtful expression on his face. She gets the distinct impression that mentally he's taking notes.
She gathers her courage and gets to the more intimate part. "I prefer it when there's... less going on. If I'm being really honest I'd want you to more or less sit there and I grind against your face. My clit's really sensitive so that was... it was a bit much." She concludes.
"OK. Let's try that." He agrees.
And then, just as there was yesterday, there's a heavy pause.
But this time it's Bellamy who breaks it. It's Bellamy who steps forward, starts kissing her, tangles his hands in her hair. This, she thinks, is a promising start.
It gets better and better, after that. They undress each other, which ought to be awkward but somehow isn't. She always expected things to be awkward if ever they got to this point, and she's beyond happy to be proven wrong. And he's so gentle with her, so much calmer and slower than yesterday, that she's already thoroughly aroused by the time he lies her back on the bed and settles between her legs.
He follows her instructions to the letter – maybe even a little too well. After all his trying-too-hard of yesterday, it's a bit odd to have him just lying there and gently stimulating her with his tongue alone. But it's what she likes, normally – it's strangely familiar, even if he is an unfamiliar partner – and so she's having a good time. She draws it out for a while, holding back, until eventually she lets loose and bucks her hips against his face a few times.
The orgasm is more satisfying today. The build up was better, there was more tension to break. It's been a success, she decides.
But then she looks down at Bellamy, who's just raising his head to meet her eyes, and wonders if that's true. He doesn't look like he feels very successful.
"You OK?" She asks him, concerned.
"Yeah." He lies brightly. At least, she's pretty sure it's a lie. "Was that better?"
"Yeah. I really enjoyed the longer build up." She tells him honestly.
He smiles a little. "Good."
She bites her lip, nervous. There's a question she knows she needs to ask but she's worried it will cross a line, blur the boundaries of what they're doing here.
"How was it for you?" She asks at last.
For a moment, she thinks he will not answer. But then he proves her wrong, and she's glad of it.
"Honestly? Kind of strange." He looks away, jaw tense. "It's just not how I'm used to doing it, I guess. Even before I read that book I've always been more... active? I want to feel like I'm bringing someone pleasure. I didn't feel like I was doing a lot there. I felt like I was making you do all the work."
He stops talking, but she knows he's not done. She can see him working up his courage.
"I felt kind of left out. Even though I was right there. I know that sounds silly." He murmurs, awkward.
"That's not silly at all. Maybe there's a middle way." She suggests carefully. "Maybe you could try some of your techniques but just not all at once? And build up slower?"
"Yeah. Maybe we should try that another time." He offers, still not meeting her eye.
"I'm up for that." She reaches for her clothes, makes a start on dressing. "You want to learn how to play chess?"
He does turn to look at her then, rolling his eyes. "I'm going to have to be a lot more bored than this before you talk me into learning that game."
…...
The third time is perfect.
Clarke's a bit annoyed about that. She realises that as soon as it's perfect, Bellamy will not need to practise any more. She briefly considers lying about it, so that he'll keep eating her out. But that seems deceptive and manipulative in the extreme, so she just lies back and tries to let her orgasm build as slowly as possible.
It's damn good, this. There's enough going on to be thoroughly pleasurable, but she doesn't feel overwhelmed. And Bellamy's being so tender and gentle, quite unlike his more determined first attempt.
She's almost disappointed when she comes. Almost. Mostly she's just stunned.
"I take it that was better?" Bellamy asks, cheeky, peeking up from between her legs.
She doesn't even try to hold off the inevitable, in the end. She just nods, eager, grinning at him.
She supposes she ought to make conversation. If she doesn't make conversation, he'll leave. And if he leaves now then he'll probably never come back and practise oral with her again, now he's got it perfect.
Only he doesn't leave. He lies next to her on the bed, stark naked. She hasn't given herself time to appreciate his nakedness before now, not really. He's mostly been between her legs, after all. But now he's at her side it's all too easy to notice the firm planes of his chest and that frankly distracting cock of his.
"Can I borrow the book?" She hears herself ask. She's not sure what she's thinking – she's not sure if she's thinking at all, which is worrying, considering she's usually so proud of her capacity for rational thought. Maybe she's planning to try out some of these same techniques on Raven, or something. She can think of worse people to hook up with.
"Sure. If you want. There's a lot in there – penises as well as vaginas. You can let me know if ever you want someone to practise with." He says, tone a little too careful to be truly casual.
"Oh, that's cool. I thought it was only about oral on vaginas." This conversation perhaps ought to be awkward, but since they started practising together, it hardly seems noteworthy at all.
"No, there's chapters on pretty much anything you can think of. Even some kinky stuff." He says lightly.
She rolls over to face him. "Go on, then. Which kinky parts did you like?"
He doesn't answer the question, but he does turn to face her. "Read it first and then we'll talk." He tells her, teasing.
She feels her heart do a little hiccup in her chest. This is real, isn't it? This is happening. She gets it now – they're not doing this by accident, or out of convenience, or even only to practise. She's the person Bellamy chose to share his sex book with, and it strikes her in this moment that this is a very good thing indeed.
She gathers her courage. She likes to think of herself a reasonably brave woman, and she knows she can do this.
"I know I haven't read it yet, but I could start practising now." She suggests, scooting towards him a little.
"What did you have in mind?"
"I could suck you off. You can give me some advice along the way." She offers, already snaking her hand down to his cock.
He grins. "We could try that."
She doesn't hesitate. She leans in, kisses him full on the lips. She wants to do that at least once more before she goes and pays attention to his cock. He seems determined to keep her at his lips a little longer than that, though. They make out lazily for a couple of minutes before she pulls away and moves down the bed.
She doesn't have a lot of experience of cock-sucking, so she wasn't entirely joking when she invited Bellamy to give her feedback. He either realises that or is just a very helpful guy, because he does a lovely job of telling her how she's doing without embarrassing her. He does it by making these wonderful noises – a moan when it's good, a groan when it's really good, a low growl when he's losing his mind.
He seems to be losing his mind a lot.
She can see, now, why people enjoy this so much. Giving really is at least as good as receiving, she decides. She loves being able to make Bellamy happy in this way, loves feeling him relax and accept the pleasure she's gifting him. But she has to admit that most of all she loves the power, the knowledge that she has this ability to make him fall apart beneath her lips and hands. It's pretty incredible, and it makes her wonder if she might be able to muster a second orgasm when this is through, if he should happen to offer.
It doesn't last long. Bellamy gives another one of those growls, and then he's spilling down her throat, salty and hot and so much of it she almost chokes. She wouldn't necessarily mind choking on Bellamy's come, she decides. She can think of worse ways to go.
Huh. She wonders if one of the kinky chapters is about that.
She decides that is a question for another time. For now, she crawls up the bed and settles herself across Bellamy's chest. If they're going to pleasure each other and read kinky books together and keep practising, she thinks they're probably at the stage where a little naked snuggling is acceptable.
He agrees. She can tell that because he holds her close, arms wrapped tight around her torso, hands stroking over as much skin as he can reach.
"You don't need to read the book." He tells her, hoarse. "You've already got it perfect."
She snorts. "Does this book even exist? Or did you just want an excuse to sleep with me?" She asks him, emboldened by her cock-sucking success.
He laughs and presses a kiss to the crown of her head. "It exists. Chapter eight is about threesomes. I don't think I want you to read that one."
"You don't? But I thought you were into that? Roma and Bree -"
"Are you going to make me spell it out, Clarke?" He interrupts her, impatient.
"Spell what out?" She suspects she knows what he's getting at, but she cannot resist teasing – or possibly fighting a little last-minute nervousness.
"I'd like it to be just us. You and me. Together."
"Not just sleeping together?" She checks, because she has to be sure.
"Not just sleeping together. Being together."
"That sounds good." She says.
Not that sounds like it would be good, or even could be good. Because she knows already that it's good. After all, they've been together for the last year or so, more or less. The fact that they've only just started sleeping together or defined their relationship seems somehow insignificant, because they've basically been practising being together since almost the very beginning.
And if there's one thing she knows, it's that practice makes perfect.
a/n Thanks for reading!