AN: Another chapter, and time for a bit of a break – I definitely wouldn't mind spending a week or two at the hotel in the Seychelles, it's probably as close to paradise you can get… check it out if you're missing crystal clear seas and pristine beaches!
I don't own anything relating to The 100
See the end of the chapter for warnings
Chapter title from "Bed" by SYML which has been playing on repeat here for a while…
39
In the Still of the Night You Need to Believe
The approach to Dubai airport is spectacular, to say the least.
"Wow," Bellamy murmurs, nose practically touching the plane window. "Is that Burj Khalifa over there?"
Clarke leans across him to get a look herself, and has to admit that it's an impressive sight – last time she was here, they both arrived and left in the middle of the night, which definitely offered an amazing view of the city all lit up, but she hasn't had this view of it before. "Yup, that's it. And that's The World just down there, the artificial archipelago. And The Palm a little further away, that's where our hotel is."
He leans back in his seat and shakes his head. "That's so cool. I mean, I knew we were staying there, but it's different, seeing it."
"It is," she agrees. "Just wait until we're down there."
They get through security in a flash, especially compared to Amman, and it's only a little after four in the afternoon when they leave the airport.
And walk into an almost physical wall of heat.
She checked the weather forecast yesterday, so they knew the difference was going to be around twenty-five degrees, with temperatures in the high nineties today and a little lower tomorrow, but it's hard to actually prepare yourself for that.
They stop at the end of the line to the cabs and Bellamy wipes some sweat off his forehead. "I knew it was going to be hot," he starts, rummaging around in his backpack until he comes up with his sunglasses and slides them on. "But this is next level."
"I know," Clarke agrees, fanning herself with her hand, which doesn't help at all. "It's the desert heat, I think – ninety degrees here is totally different from ninety degrees in New York."
"Oh yeah."
They have nothing scheduled today, both because the whole visit to Dubai was a last minute change and because she doesn't like booking stuff on the day they arrive, just in case the flight is delayed, and they're both overheated and tired when they get to the hotel, so they just check in, get changed and hit the pool. They find two sunbeds under an umbrella and Clarke flops down on one of them while Bellamy jumps straight into the pool, disappearing under the surface for a moment before coming back up, shaking the water out of his hair.
"Come on, it's amazing," he tells her and, well, she doesn't need to be told twice.
They're not alone in the pool, but it's huge and there's nobody nearby, so they play around for a while, splashing each other, before retreating to the sunbeds.
Since they have a pretty packed day tomorrow, they grab an early dinner in the restaurant, catching the sunset in the process, and then enjoy the somewhat cooler night air on their balcony for a little while before bed.
They get an early start on Wednesday, eating breakfast before getting picked up at eight and heading out into the desert for a quad bike safari. They even get to try sand boarding before their driver takes them back to the city and Deira, one of the city's older parts. They grab some delicious shawarma for lunch and then explore the different souks and narrow alleys before taking an abra across the bay and continuing through Bur Dubai, another older area.
"You know, this is definitely not what I expected from Dubai," Bellamy notes when they're stopped in front of the fortified walls of Al Fahidi Fort, now housing the Dubai Museum.
"I know, you think it's all flashy skyscrapers and luxury," Clarke replies. "But there's stuff like this too… do you want to check it out? We have a couple of hours before we need to be at the Burj Khalifa."
He considers for a moment. "Do you think it's air conditioned?"
It turns out that it is, and they spend an hour and a half strolling between exhibits, learning more about Dubai's history and culture. It's a nice break from the relentless sun, but by the time they leave the museum again, the temperature's risen even more, above a hundred degrees, Clarke is sure.
"Please tell me Burj Khalifa is either really close by or really far, so we can take a cab," Bellamy says.
"Well, I know it's not close," she replies, opening up Google Maps on her phone. "Yeah, it's a two hour walk, so that's not happening."
She looks around, spotting a cream colored cab parked a bit further down the street, and they hurry to catch it before anyone else does.
When they get there, they still have forty-five minutes before their time slot to Burj Khalifa, so they check out the mall for a little while.
Clarke did go to Burj Khalifa last time she was here, but it's just as amazing the second time around. They're greeted with drinks and snacks in the lounge on the ground floor, before a guide brings them to the actual tower and tells them about the building.
"OK, brace yourself," she tells Bellamy when they enter the elevator that will take them to the 124th floor.
He frowns at her. "Why?"
"This is the fastest elevator in the world," she explains. "Or it was two years ago, but I don't think that's changed. It only takes a minute to go 124 floors."
"Seriously?"
She doesn't respond – the elevator doors close and they shoot upwards at that moment, which speaks for itself.
"Whoa," he breathes out as the elevator slows to a stop on the 124th floor.
"I know, right?"
They're ushered out of the elevator and into another one that will take them the rest of the way, and within moments, the doors open to reveal the top floor lounge, where more refreshments await them.
After that, they're left to their own devices, and start making a slow circuit of the floor, checking out the view in different directions. They catch a few minutes of the fountain show far below, spot The World out at sea and almost make out The Palm in the distance.
When the sun sinks closer to the horizon, they come to a stop on the open air terrace, the wind ruffling both their hair despite the high glass walls surrounding them.
"This is amazing," Bellamy notes, eyes fixed on the setting, golden orb.
"It's beautiful," Clarke agrees.
They're standing close together, hands brushing, and she hooks a finger around one of his. Had they been somewhere else, she wouldn't have hesitated to move in front of him to let his arms circle her and enjoy the sunset wrapped in each other, but even though she's pretty sure it would be fine, she doesn't want to risk it.
A hush falls over the terrace as the sun finally dips below the horizon, continuing for a minute or two after dusk falls. Then it's like someone snaps their fingers, and everyone continues on their way.
The two of them linger a little longer, watching the lights below twinkle to life, before returning inside and starting their descent.
They catch the fountain show from ground level as well, before returning to their hotel for dinner.
"So," Clarke starts when they're in bed. "Considering we had a total of… forty hours in Dubai, do you feel like it was worth the trip?"
Bellamy's sitting on the edge of his side of the bed, checking something on his phone, and he puts it down and gets under the sheets before he responds.
"Yeah, I think so. I mean, I'm sure you can keep busy for weeks here – that indoor ski slope would have been cool to check out – but this was good. Really good."
She slides closer, settling in with her head on his chest. "Good, I'm glad."
-100-
When they get through security at Seychelles International Airport on Mahé the next day, there's a serious looking man holding up an iPad with Clarke's almost-correctly-spelled name on it waiting for them.
"Private chauffeur?" Bellamy asks amusedly.
She shrugs. "It's kind of tricky getting to the hotel, so I figured it would be easiest to just use their transfer service."
He gives her a searching look but she just returns it with a smile before greeting their driver.
Of course, it doesn't take long before they're at the harbor, leaving the car for a boat instead, and she can't really hide their destination any longer.
"Please don't tell me you rented a private island," Bellamy says with a sigh, though he looks sort of excited at the prospect.
"Not private," she tells him. "There are nine other villas on it."
He lets out a disbelieving laugh, offering his hand while she climbs aboard the boat and then following. "No wonder it was cheaper cancelling two nights and going to Dubai instead."
"Told you."
The boat ride isn't long either, and soon, they're approaching the dock on Round Island.
Their driver – who is actually their butler during their stay and introduced himself as Michel – instructs them to leave their bags on the landing and then leads them off the wooden dock and along a pathway that cuts through the lush vegetation and climbs slightly towards the center of the island.
They pass one villa, which is already occupied, judging by the couple lounging on the deck, and then Michel stops at the second one.
"This is where you will be staying during your visit," he tells them, handing a key to Clarke. "I am at your disposal from nine in the morning to nine in the evening, and the rest of the time there is a night butler on call. You can reach us using the phone in the villa, simply press zero and you will be connected with reception. Is there anything you require assistance with at this moment?"
"Thank you," she replies, taking the key. "I think we're good for now, we'll just get settled in and maybe go to the restaurant for some lunch in a bit."
He nods once. "I can have something prepared and sent over, if you prefer staying here? We have your food preferences in the system, I assume those are correct."
She glances at Bellamy, who is still looking a little shell shocked and shrugs.
"That would be great, thank you," she says and Michel nods again before returning the way they came.
She unlocks the door and opens it, turning to give Bellamy a questioning look. "You coming?"
He shakes his head, as if clearing it. "Of course."
The villa's pretty much what she thought it would be, based on the images from the resort's website. The front door leads to an open plan living space with a kitchen along one wall, a table seating four in the middle, and two soft looking couches by the large, floor to ceiling windows overlooking their private terrace and pool with the sea beyond. The door to the bedroom is open and she sticks her head in, finding a king size bed and a smaller sitting area. The furniture looks local, dark wood and rattan, and give the space a calm, tropical vibe. She catches a glimpse of the outdoor tub she knows is on the terrace off the bedroom as well before returning to the living area.
"So, first thoughts?" she asks, pulling Bellamy out of whatever daze he seems to be in.
"Honestly? This is… it's basically paradise," he says, unable to keep a smile off his face. "I can't believe we get to stay here for a week."
Clarke crosses the room and wraps her arms around him, leaning her head against his shoulder. "So you like?"
He squeezes her back. "I love. I still think you spent way too much on this, but… yeah, I love it."
"You know what?" she asks, tilting her head back to look up at him. "Just seeing that look on your face made it worth every single penny." He huffs a laugh at that and she slips out of his arms, interlacing their fingers and tugging him along towards the front door. "Come on, there's more to see."
He follows her happily and she pulls him along out the door and down a few wooden steps to a stone patio with an outdoor eating area – table and some chairs under a pergola – to their right, and onwards down to the wooden deck by the small infinity pool. There's an umbrella, two sun loungers and a small wooden table between them. Beyond the terrace, there's a path leading to some stairs that she knows will take them to a beach that's not technically private but still secluded.
Here, behind the villa, they're pretty much hidden from view in all directions – the building behind them, dense vegetation to their right and the high wall of the villa next door to their left. She can't see the actual house, which should mean they can't see them either.
She's hoping they'll be able to have some fun out here…
Bellamy flops down on one of the sun loungers, leaning back and closing his eyes with a sigh, and she takes the other one, turning her head to be able to study him.
"So what do we have planned while we're here?" he asks after a moment.
Apart from letting her know what he wanted to do at the different stops on their trip, he didn't really get very involved in the actual planning, which is how she was able to keep this hotel – and the one in Bora Bora – a complete secret.
"Nothing," she tells him, getting a surprised look.
"Nothing?" he repeats. "I mean, I know you said we were just going to relax, but I figured you still had something planned."
Clarke shrugs. "Nope, we have absolutely nothing planned for the next week. I wanted this to be a complete break, I figured we'd need it, so it's seven days of nothing but relaxing, enjoying the sun and sea, and eating great food. The restaurant on the island's supposed to be amazing."
"Huh." He frowns, and she wonders if maybe she should have made some plans. She knows he's not great at having downtime – he proved as much during the time he had off before they left New York.
"I mean, there is stuff to do," she adds. "There's a spa somewhere, and a gym. They have snorkeling equipment we can borrow, and kayaks. Moyenne Island is a nature reserve, it's accessible by kayak."
While she talks, a smile spreads on Bellamy's face, and when she finally falls silent, he reaches out to squeeze her hand.
"It wasn't a complaint," he assures her. "I was just a little surprised, I thought you preferred having everything scheduled down to the minute."
She sticks her tongue out at him. "Well, now I've scheduled a week of doing nothing."
He laughs. "Fine by me. But I do want to go snorkeling."
"Oh, yeah, obviously."
At that moment, there's a knock on the front door, and when they round the corner, they find Michel and a colleague with their bags and a tray with two plates covered with cloches.
They get their bags stowed away in the bedroom before bringing the food to the outdoor table – it turns out to be two salads, one with tuna and one with chicken, and they also grab two bottles of some local beer from the fridge.
It's still hot, though not as bad as Dubai, and the bonus here is that as soon as they've finished their late lunch, they can change into swimwear and jump in the pool.
Which is basically how they spend the next couple of days.
The sleep in, letting the sun wake them in the mornings and not getting out of bed until one of their stomach's start rumbling.
They order room service or cook themselves, using the food that was already in the fridge when they arrived and whatever Michel restocks during his visits – either the housekeepers are checking the kitchen and letting him know what they've used, or he's actually psychic, which Clarke wouldn't completely rule out.
They lounge about by the pool or venture down to the small beach below, which seems to be just for their villa – nobody else bothers them, anyway.
They christen every flat surface – and some horizontal ones – in and around the villa, trying out sex in the pool (though not the sea, there are usually people paddling or snorkeling further out and Bellamy flat out refuses), on both couches, the dining table and kitchen counter, and even, to Clarke's surprise, the outdoor tub. Though it's late at night, everything dark and silent around them, with no chance of anyone without night vision goggles seeing anything, so that's probably why he only puts up a minimum of protests before agreeing. And the bed, of course, but that sort of goes without saying. They have a lot of sex in the bed.
They don't actually leave the villa and its immediate surroundings until Saturday night, when they venture to the restaurant and actually interact with people other than Michel and the woman who's come to clean the villa the last two days.
It seems all villas on the island are occupied – there are six middle aged couples split over three tables, two families with five children between them, ranging from a baby sleeping in a stroller to two girls who look to be around nine, and one younger couple, probably around Bellamy's or a little younger.
They're seated at the table next to the young couple and strike up a conversation pretty quickly. Luke and Glass are twenty-nine and twenty-eight, from Seattle and on their honeymoon, paid for by Glass' wealthy grandparents. They arrived a few days before Clarke and Bellamy and only have another day and a half before they head back home, which Glass laments.
"I mean, this place… isn't it just paradise?"
Clarke smiles, remembering Bellamy's initial reaction on their arrival. "That's exactly what this one said when we got here," she replies, bumping his shoulder with hers. "Right?"
He's deep in conversation with Luke about… Brooklyn 99? He turns at her voice, though, and gives her a smile. "What was that, Princess?"
"I was just saying how you thought this place was paradise," she tells him.
"Oh, yeah, absolutely." He wraps an arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss to her temple. "Have I said today how glad I am I let you talk me into this?"
"Not today."
"Well, I am." He goes back to his conversation with Luke but leaves his arm around her, toying with the strap of her dress as he speaks.
Clarke turns back to Glass, who's giving her a knowing smile. "You two are just adorable," she says.
Clarke rolls her eyes. "You guys are the newlyweds."
They make plans to go snorkeling with Luke and Glass the next morning, so they'll actually leave the villa at least once, and then wrap the night up with some really amazing sex on one of the sun loungers, the salty sea breeze cooling their overheated bodies.
Snorkeling turns into lunch, which turns into kayaking over to Moyenne Island, where they explore some of the trails on the island and check out the local wildlife – tortoises, sharks, lizards – before grabbing a drink at the restaurant on the beach and kayaking back as the sun sets.
They have breakfast with Luke and Glass on Monday morning, before the other couple leaves for the airport, but after that, they pretty much go back to how they were the first couple of days. A couple in their seventies takes over Luke and Glass' villa, and while Clarke and Bellamy do join the other guests for dinner at the restaurant in the evenings, they don't really have much in common with any of the couples or families, so they keep themselves to themselves during the days.
Which is great, of course, and exactly what Clarke was hoping for when she booked their stay here. She does manage to convince Bellamy to go for a couple's massage in the spa on Thursday, their last full day in the Seychelles, but that's about it.
Their last morning starts like all the others. The sun peaking in through the wooden shutters wakes her up and she yawns and checks the time on her phone – only a little after eight. They're not in any real hurry, their boat back to the mainland will leave at eleven thirty for their flight at half past two in the afternoon, and they packed last night, so all they have to do is have some breakfast before Michel shows up to escort them down to the docks. They can continue the tradition of enjoying an hour or two in bed before actually starting the day, so she stretches and rolls over to face Bellamy, who's still asleep.
She wouldn't say that she's forgotten about his Number – she knows it's steadily counting down, but it's been mostly background noise for her lately, an underlying tension that she can mostly ignore, and she hardly ever actively notices it.
Now, though, it's literally staring her in the face – 99.
It's not like she didn't know it was coming, the day his Number would go from three digits to two, but for some reason, it actually happening has her heart racing and her breath coming in shallow gasps.
It's such a small thing but so final, somehow. It doesn't make sense to her, but she's powerless to stop it either way.
Not wanting to wake Bellamy with her panic attack, she manages to get out of bed and wrap one of the complimentary robes around herself before tiptoeing around the bed towards the door to the living area.
She doesn't make it all the way, though.
"Hey, where are you going?" Bellamy's sleepy voice comes from behind her just as she reaches out to open the door.
She tries to take a deep breath and pull herself together before responding. "Just hungry, I was going to start breakfast."
Even she can hear that she sounds like she's about to start crying, and sure enough, at that moment she feels the first tear trail down her cheek.
He's in front of her in a second, leaning down to look at her, one hand cupping her cheek and the other wiping the tear away. "Hey, what's wrong?"
Her eyes dart to his forehead of their own accord, the double nines mocking her, and she looks away, out the window. "It just…"
"Tell me," he insists, gently turning her face so he can look her in the eye. "Did it, like, jump a month overnight or something?"
Despite the tears still threatening to fall, Clarke can't help but let out a watery laugh at that. "No, of course not, that's not possible."
"Then what is it?" he asks, brushing away another tear with his thumb.
She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment. "It's ninety-nine today."
He's quiet for so long she finally looks up at him, wondering if this is it, if this is what will finally crack him. She's been half-expecting it for months now, ever since she told him the truth.
But when she meets his eyes, the corner of his mouth tugs up a little. "Oh," is all he says.
"Oh?" she repeats. "That's it?"
He shrugs, half-smile turning into more of a grimace, and runs a hand through his hair. "Trust me, I'm waiting for the big breakdown too, and I have no doubt it's coming. I just… I don't know. I haven't been keeping count or anything, but I figured this was coming up pretty soon. It is April, after all."
Clarke's heart rate has slowed down and she can breathe more normally now, so she reaches out to squeeze his hand, offering some support in return.
"It is," she agrees. "I can't believe we're, like, halfway through the trip, too."
Bellamy's eyebrows shoot up at that. "Really?"
"Yeah. We left New York on January twentieth and we'll be back on July twentieth, so April nineteenth is pretty much smack bang in the middle."
"Huh." He squeezes her hand back, tugging a little on it. "Crisis over? Because I would hate to break our morning tradition…"
She rolls her eyes at that but lets him pull her back to bed. "Seriously?"
"What?" he asks, sitting down on the edge of the bed and giving her an innocent look even as he tugs the belt on her robe open. "After this, we have a bunch of long flights, and our schedule will be packed again, right? So who knows when we'll have time to enjoy a lazy morning in bed next?"
He does have a point, of course, and her heart rate is starting to pick up again, though for much more pleasant reasons now, as Bellamy's hands slide around her waist and down to her butt, pulling her closer.
"I suppose…" she says slowly, pretending to not be quite sure, but she does climb into his lap all the same, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck. "If you had something… nice in mind."
His hands flex against her skin and she presses even closer, grinding down against him. She's glad she didn't realize right away that he was naked, their conversation just now would have been a little difficult to focus on if she had.
He's still soft against her, but his hips jerk up in response and his eyes darken. "Oh, I'll show you nice."
Clarke has absolutely no doubt about that, but she still feels like teasing him a little. "Oh yeah? And how were you planning to do that?"
He cocks his head to the side, as if considering her question.
"This might be a good first step," he then says, reaching up to push the robe off her shoulders. She releases her hold on him for a moment, to let it slide down her arms and onto the floor. He presses a kiss to her shoulder before looking up at her. "OK?"
She nods once before wrapping her arms around him again and leaning down for a kiss, which he happily returns, hands anchoring on her hips.
It stays pretty innocent for a while – or at least as innocent as a naked make-out session can be – just lips and tongues sliding together slowly, her fingers tightening in his curls now and then, his digging into her hips. Then Bellamy slides a hand between them, flicking her nipple with his thumb, and she has to break the kiss to suck in a breath.
He takes the opportunity to trail down her throat and shoulders, placing open mouthed kisses against her breast before pulling a nipple into his mouth, and she lets out a gasp at the feeling. He covers her other breast with his hand, twirling that nipple between his fingers, and she rocks against him, desperate for some friction. She can feel him getting harder against her and trails a hand down his back, letting her nails scrape his skin on the way back up, like she knows he likes. She's rewarded with a full body shiver and another jerk of is hips, and then his teeth graze her nipple lightly before he pulls back.
"Shit, Princess, you have any idea what you do to me?"
Clarke assumes it's a rhetorical question, but she still shifts back a little, getting a hand between them to wrap around him.
"Mmm, I think so."
He lets out a ragged breath at the feeling of her fingers on his dick, his eyes sliding closed, and she leans her forehead against his as she works him slowly.
After only a few tugs, his hand closes around her wrist and she releases him immediately, rising up on her knees slightly as he lines himself up, then sinking down, taking him all the way inside her.
They both moan at the feeling, pausing for a moment.
Bellamy's the first to move, sliding one hand up and around her neck to pull her down for a kiss which quickly turns messy, all teeth and tongue. She returns it eagerly, wrapping an arm around him as she starts moving.
He seems to understand what she needs, and it's heated and fast, both of them chasing release and reaching it within moments of each other. She collapses against his shoulder first, and a few seconds later, he lets them both fall backwards onto the bed, arms tightening around her.
"See?" he says a little breathlessly, pressing a kiss against the top of her head. "A much better way to start our last day in paradise."
Clarke buries her face against his throat and breaths him in. "Much better, yeah. So, breakfast and then a final dip in the sea?"
He chuckles but does let go of her so she can get up. "Way to ruin the afterglow," he half complains, but when she holds out her hand, he lets her pull him up.
They both put on a minimum of clothes – a bikini for her, swimming trunks for him – before making scrambled eggs, bacon and toast for breakfast. When the food's all gone, they race down to the beach and splash around in the water for a while before returning to the villa to get properly dressed and pack the last few things.
When Michel shows up at a little after eleven, they're lounging in the shadow on the terrace, and Clarke has to admit that it's a little bittersweet to leave the villa behind. It was definitely a little slice of paradise, just for them.
But they have a lot left of the trip, and she knows there are other amazing places to discover.
Chapter warnings: explicit sexual content