a/n I wasn't planning to write a second chapter for this, but this happened! Huge thanks to Stormkpr for betaing it. Happy reading!
Bellamy thinks things are going well with Clarke. He hopes they're going well. They've been together for a few weeks now, and they kiss a lot and laugh a lot and have sex a lot, so that seems to him like a pretty happy relationship. She says she's really happy every time he asks, which has to be a good sign.
But there's one thing that's bothering him.
He loaned Clarke that sex book weeks ago – the morning after they got together, in fact. And she seemed really excited to take it and promised to start reading it right away. But since then? Nothing. Crickets. He believes that was a relevant idiom, back on Earth before the bombs.
He just doesn't understand what's happened. He's seen Clarke tear through a novel in a few hours. Sure, she doesn't typically read as much non-fiction as he does, but he cannot honestly believe she hasn't finished the book yet. And that leaves only one other option – that she has finished it, but doesn't want to talk about it.
That would be fine, of course. The sex they have is good. It's great – perfect, even, because Clarke is involved and he adores her, so her wholehearted participation is all he needs to have a good time.
He just really wants to know why she hasn't mentioned the book.
He can't believe that she's embarrassed. This is Clarke – she's the most confident person he knows. Although it does occur to him that she might not be so confident about sex as she is about other things. They haven't really been together long enough for him to have worked that out, yet.
There's a more worrying explanation, of course. What if she's freaked out? He was positively evangelical about how great the book was and how many cool things from it he wanted to try. What if she's read it, and she's completely grossed out by the implication that he's into some of the stuff it discusses? What if she's second guessing her choice to start a sexual relationship with him?
There's only one way to figure it out, he decides. He needs to find a good moment, find a most particular kind of courage, and ask her.
…...
He chooses to bring it up one morning, as they lie cuddled in bed together. They've just started the day with a sweet, lazy hand job, and he figures they're both feeling relaxed and comfortable.
"How are you getting on with the sex book?" He comes straight out and asks it.
She stiffens – only a little, but it definitely happens. "OK."
He hugs her tight and presses on. "Yeah? Anything you found particularly interesting?"
"There were a lot of things I'd be up for trying." She hedges.
He breathes a none-too-discreet sigh of relief. It sounds like she's more nervous than freaked out. This is good. He can work with this.
"Me too." He agrees, hoping his tone sounds encouraging. "Honestly, I think I'd be up for pretty much anything if you were excited about it."
"Yeah?" She checks, somewhere between excited and tentative, he thinks.
"Yeah. Any ideas on what you want to try first?"
There's a pause. He hears her suck in a breath, realises that she genuinely is very nervous about this. He presses a kiss to her forehead, runs a gentle thumb over the skin of her shoulders. He wants to show her that he'll still be here, no matter what she says in the next few seconds. He's not about to be scared off by any kink she might choose to share.
"I want you to choke me." She mutters. "Not – not hard. I've never tried it before so I don't want to start out too... hardcore. But – but you have great hands and I've always liked your arms and I think – I think I'd really get off on feeling you hold me down. On you being strong, you know?"
He's surprised. He doesn't mind admitting it. It's not something that really struck him as a natural place to take their relationship – he's always been more instinctively interested in Clarke taking charge.
He hesitates a moment too long.
"Bellamy? Are you -"
She is interrupted by a knock at the door, and a panicked shout.
"Guys! We need you. We need all the hands we can get. I need to put a patch up on deck C. We're leaking oxygen!" It's Raven, and it sounds bad. Leaking oxygen? Surely that's potentially deadly, when they live in a tin can in space?
At once, Bellamy and Clarke jump out of bed and start throwing on clothes. Duty calls, and romance must wait. Bellamy rather hoped they'd left that tendency behind when they left the ground, but it seems that their responsibilities are determined to keep following them.
…...
It turns out it's more complicated and slightly less deadly than Raven's first words implied. They're not literally leaking oxygen into the depths of space, but the oxygenator and a patch of wall have indeed been damaged, and she needs their help patching things up.
It doesn't take long, with the hands of the whole crew at work. And when they're done, Bellamy thinks he might get a chance to check in with Clarke and finish that conversation that was so frustratingly interrupted.
It doesn't happen.
"Let me take a look at that cut, Emori." Clarke offers.
"It's not deep."
"I know. But it's not clean, and I don't want it to get infected. Come on."
As Clarke leads Emori down the hallway to their makeshift med bay, Bellamy is struck by the distinct impression that she is avoiding him.
…...
She keeps avoiding him for the rest of the day, and he hates it. He's got used to having Clarke at his side almost every minute of every hour, but today she is absent more often than not. She keeps finding specifically one-person chores to do – reorganising their medical supplies, or cleaning the women's bathrooms, or laundering her underwear.
At least it gives him a chance to think – or more accurately, to fantasise. He just cannot stop hearing those words she said this morning, endlessly replaying through his mind. Her soft, nervous voice as she told him she wants to be held down, wants to feel his strength, likes his hands and arms.
She wants him to choke her.
It's exciting, OK? He didn't expect to be excited by it, because he has historically been more excited by the idea of her putting him in his place. But the idea that she wants to be vulnerable beneath his hands has his cock twitching every time he so much as thinks of it. He can just imagine how soft her throat would feel beneath his fingers, can imagine the trusting look in her eyes as she would gaze up at him.
Damn it. Here he is, trying to read the Iliad, but rock hard and thinking of Clarke instead.
He needs to go find her. He needs to tell her he wants to choke her.
No. That might not sound right – too violent and brusque. He needs to tell her that he wants to make her fantasies of being choked come true? No, too wordy and sappy.
Whatever. He'll work it out.
He finds her in a storage closet on deck B. It's not clear what she's doing here, exactly, only that it's unnecessary and is a transparent excuse to avoid him.
"Hey." The word comes out hoarse, so her clears his throat. "I've been looking for you."
She looks like a cornered animal, he thinks, as she searches for a way out. He doesn't like it. This is Clarke – confident, capable Clarke. It's kind of humbling, to realise he has the power to make her nervous like this.
The whole choking thing must be important to her, he realises. And above all, their relationship must be important to her.
She starts edging past him, heading for the door. "Can't chat. I have to -"
"Clarke." He stops her with a sharp tone, and with his fingers looped tight around her wrist. Not tight enough to hurt, of course, nor even tight enough to actually keep hold of her if she really does want to leave.
But tight enough to show her he means business. Tight enough to show her, too, that he could do a good job of choking her, if only she would stay still long enough for them to work it out. Tight enough to promise everything she wants – a taste of things to come.
"Bellamy?" Her voice comes out hoarse, nervous. Questioning.
He goes for it. He kisses her, hard and fast, biting softly at her lower lip and demanding her attention. He wants to show her that there's no need to spend the day running away from him, but there's something else going on here, too.
He wants to show her he can chase her. That he'll do that, and more, if that's what she wants from him.
She kisses him back eagerly, melts into his arms. This is better, he decides. This is familiar ground – Clarke in his embrace, kisses growing heated. But the thing is, he wants to make it less familiar, put a bit of a spin on it. That's what they're aiming for, right? They're trying to spice things up a little.
He gathers his courage.
"You going to stop running away from me now?" He growls against her lips.
She likes that. He can tell. She whimpers into the kiss, clings to him ever more desperately.
He pulls away. He breaks her hold on his waist and wrist, breaks the kiss. She makes a little whining noise, but doesn't attempt to argue with him. It seems she is determined to play her part, too.
He spins her round, firmly but not roughly. She moves willingly, only casting him a quick, questioning glance.
"Be good for me." He says, half plea, half warning.
She nods. She lets him turn her round, lets him drag her close to him, her back pressing against his front.
And then he clasps a hand around her throat.
"This OK?" He has to ask. He hopes it doesn't come across as breaking character, or killing the mood they've got going here. But it's important to him to check.
"Mhmm." She agrees quietly.
He keeps his hand on her throat, angles her head so he can kiss down the back of her neck. She's making quite a lot of little mewling sounds, which he figures has to be a good thing. There's something about the vulnerability she's showing him here which is really shooting straight to his cock, but he forces himself to keep concentrating. He can't afford to get distracted. He needs to focus on making Clarke feel safe.
"You can press a little harder." She tells him – more instruction than suggestion. That makes him smile into her hair. Of course, even while he is so ostensibly taking the lead, she has to insist on remaining somewhat in charge.
He does what she asks, applies slightly more pressure to her neck. He likes this, likes having her pressed against him and trusting him so utterly, but it's quite a lot, too. He thinks that if she asks him to press any harder he'll probably say no, for today. He wants to get a bit more practice and feel a bit more confident before he contemplates actually restricting her airflow. He doesn't want to hurt her – taking care of her will always be his absolute priority.
This is going pretty well, he thinks, as semi-planned seductions in storage closets go. She's thoroughly melted in his arms, squirming such that her hips are rubbing over his half-hard cock. Gaining confidence, buying into her fantasy, he decides to do something about that.
He sets a firm hand on her hip, effectively holding her still. She makes an urgent whining noise, and he stills nervously.
"OK?" He checks.
"Mhmm."
Well, then. Apparently that was a happy whining noise. That's good to know.
He slides his hand from her hip to her waistband, unfastens her trousers. It's all too easy to slip his fingers under her panties and inside of her – she's flatteringly wet, and that's great, but she's also easing herself towards him as best as she can while he holds her tight.
She's pretty wound up already, of course, so she starts twitching her hips towards his hand as soon as he gets to work. He takes her hint, gives her a little more pressure, invites her to grind against the heel of his hand. And yet at the same time he's still holding her throat fast, gripping carefully with his fingers – just the perfect balance of firmness and tender care. He keeps kissing the back of her neck, too, and tries his best to keep concentrating on making her feel safe even as his excited erection does its best to distract him.
She comes quickly, hard, clenching around his fingers. He's not entirely new to this – they've played around with using their hands on each other quite a lot, since they got together. But he's new to this exact position, new to feeling her long throaty sigh beneath his fingers where they clasp her neck. And he's new to the way she sags against him, utterly relaxed and spent, when she's done. It feels more complete, somehow, than any orgasm he's guided her through before. It's as if she's thoroughly collapsed in his arms.
He pulls his hand out of her underwear and curls it around her waist – partly because he thinks that seems like a caring and romantic thing do to, but largely because she appears to need help staying upright, just now.
"OK?" He asks, slightly loosening his hold on her throat.
"OK." She agrees, chasing his touch, still pushing her neck into his hand.
He gets her hint, holds her there still and silent a few moments longer. At length, she relaxes back into him, pulls herself away from his hand as she sinks her head back onto his shoulder.
"That was – yeah." She sighs, less than coherent.
"It was." He agrees, matching her.
They stand there a handful more seconds. He can feel Clarke trembling lightly, and he wonders whether that's exhaustion or the slight chill in the air. He tugs her clothes back into place, then simply folds his arms around her middle, hugging her tight and sharing all the warmth and support he can.
He decides that maybe he ought to have a go at speaking first. Maybe she's still nervous, or trying to wrap her head around the idea he might buy into her fantasy, too. Maybe this is an opportunity for him to make her day by taking the lead in a difficult conversation for a change, just as he so recently rocked her world by taking the lead in their sex life.
"I'd like to try more stuff like that." He whispers. "I want to be able to look you in the eyes, next time."
"So you're – you're into it too?"
"I am now." He agrees easily. "I'm sorry it took me a while to answer you this morning. Honestly, it wasn't something I'd thought about much. I guess my attraction to you grew out of those times in the dropship when you were trying to boss me around, so I hadn't really considered us flipping that in the bedroom."
"We don't have to do it all the time." She rushes to assure him. "We can try playing different roles depending on what mood we're in."
"Yeah. I – I'd like to try this again, definitely. And we could try other stuff too."
She nods, her head still leaning on his shoulder. Her hair brushes his neck as she does so, and he lets out a little happy sigh. It's odd, this – he didn't come, there. But he's feeling strangely satisfied, like he has shared in Clarke's pleasure.
He's surprised when she breaks the silence. "I think that's partly why I like it – what you said just now, about me always taking charge on the ground. I like the idea that I don't have to do that all the time any more. And I like being able to surrender control and trust you to take care of me."
"I get that. I like taking care of you." If there's one thing he is certain of, it is that.
"And you do have really good arms." She concludes with a light giggle.
That's it, he decides. That's her telling him that the moment has passed, that he can let her go, now. He loosens his arms, but instead of pulling away altogether she just turns in his embrace and snuggles in for a more conventional hug.
"I'm sorry I kept running. I've never really had a steady relationship before, never had anyone to explore new sexual ideas with. I was worried I'd scared you off." She murmurs.
He presses a kiss to the crown of her head. "It's like that for me, too. I guess it can make me nervous, but mostly it's just awesome." He explains, laughing self-consciously.
"I can agree with that."
If he'd been told a year a go, or a month ago – or even a day ago – that the best sex of his life would be ten minutes in a storage closet without him even coming, he'd have laughed, he thinks. But he realises his mistake, now. All he needs for the perfect sexual experience is to feel and hear Clarke's satisfied sigh. And for a storage closet, this place has pretty great acoustics.
a/n Thanks for reading! And maybe think about voting in the Bellarke Fanfic Writers Awards - I hear they've not had many people voting in the early rounds and are hoping for more participation!