In This Pain There Is Healing

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: John Murphy

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Nights were always the worst. The most difficult to endure. Bellamy was a light sleeper, never quite slipping into that deep slumber. No. It would grant him too much peace that he didn't deserve. Some nights were dreamless, but at times restless. Other nights were the exact opposite. Filled with terrors of his past deeds. The blood on his hands would drown him. The burden of his guilt would suffocate him. The images of all those he had killed . . . innocent men, women, children from Mount Weather, in addition to the people he had grown up with on the Ark that died during the culling . . . they would all surround him. And dark. It was always dark. Their bodies pointing accusingly at him. Calling him a murderer. He deserved it, he knew he did.

But it made it no easier to see. Tonight, was a particularly bad night. Bellamy's head jerked a little, unable to separate reality from the current nightmare he was having. The claws that pulled him into the darkness, tearing his body in every direction. The tortured souls inflicting the same pain onto him. And that was when he felt a hand wrap around his throat, squeezing him, cutting off the ability to breathe. He could practically feel his trachea cracking under the pressure . . . and it was enough to cause Bellamy to jolt out of sleep in the middle of the night, abruptly shifting into an upright position on the bed as the bottom half of his body lay the same.

His chest heaved, as he gasped for air, panting from the intensity of this particular nightmare. His head was damp with sweat as he just needed to focus on breathing. His hand touched his throat, just to be sure it wasn't real. None of it was real. But he was further assured of that when he turned his head, and saw his partner lying next to him. Who would have thought that John Murphy was the one that Bellamy actually felt comforted to lay next to. The one who could bring him any semblance of solace . . . and yet the one who also reminded Bellamy of his actions in the past. The guilt he felt with every single person here that reminded him of how great a monster he was.

[John Murphy]

Murphy's own slumber had been less eventful this night. No stranger to the terrors sleep liberated from the depths of his mind, tonight he'd been relatively at ease, if such a word could describe it. He'd been young again and roaming the walkways of the Ark, passing other inhabitants who though heading towards him, were without fail turned away whenever he'd lifted his gaze to them. Strangers. Even so, the dream hadn't troubled him and he'd roused from sleep a while ago to merely lay in the dark next to Bellamy, eyes remaining closed. 

Eventually, he'd opened them to cast a glance to the man next to him, Bellamy's heavier breathing having drawn his attention. Was he dreaming? A longer study in what little light illuminated the room confirmed he was. Whatever demons or revenant figures tormented Bellamy in his sleep, Murphy could see the result in the hitching rise and fall of the other's chest. At times it was best to leave him be, at others it seemed necessary to reach across to rescue. At least, to coax him awake and pull him further from the ghosts of sleep, even if they haunted the waking hours too. 

Sometimes, there was no need for either when Bellamy would abruptly pull himself out, as he did now. Murphy lay watching in silent inspection of the other's state; the desperate need to breathe despite no restriction, the hand reaching to his throat ready to tug away imaginary constraints. Familiar. A few moments longer he observed, until the other's attention settled on him, Murphy meeting his gaze a second or two before he slowly pushed up to sit. He let the silence stretch out a little more, his shoulder lightly pressed to Bellamy's as he noted the clammy cool of the other's skin, and finally spoke up. "... You okay?"

Tag: Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: John Murphy

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy had woken him. An immediate guilt that flooded the older male. He knew that Murphy suffered from nightmares as well. Which was no surprise. The hell that he had been through. Bellamy knew that a significant amount of it was his own fault. That guilt stronger than before ever since the two of them had formed a relationship. He'd seen a different side of Murphy, the start of it being on the cliff that day when Murphy had saved his life. Bellamy pulled his gaze from John as his partner sat up in bed, asking if he was alright.

The question remained unanswered for a few more moments before he finally mustered a reply. "Yeah," he answered simply, feeling touched by his companion's concern. Bellamy had never been in a relationship before . . . with anyone. Not a romantic one. He had never believed himself deserving of it, considering all those he had loved and failed. Yet with Murphy . . . it felt strangely easy to be with him.

For they both seemed to understand each other, not even needing words to express it. He felt, safe with Murphy. Emotionally. The two had a rather strained relationship . . . and Bellamy couldn't explain it. He didn't even want to try. All he knew was that this was the first relationship he had formed, and one that he strongly valued. Murphy was someone he strongly valued.  "I'm fine," he dismissed, knowing that it was just the aftermath of the hell that he had been through. That everyone had been through. The inner scars would always be there, burned onto their souls -- or what was left of Bellamy's. He finally turned his head to look at John, his next words sincere.

"Sorry for waking you," he told him, genuinely apologetic, for it had seemed that Murphy was sleeping soundly. He leaned forward to lightly kiss his lips, a gesture that had become quite casual . . . yet still filled with emotion as any kiss would be between two people in a relationship. Letting it linger for a only a few moments, he eased out of it before speaking against. "You should go back to sleep." Because it was hard enough to come by, and he didn't want to be the reason to keep Murphy awake. With that, he pulled himself out of bed to fill a cup of water.

[John Murphy]

He didn't believe the answer he was offered, but he didn't challenge it for now. It appeared there existed a shared acceptance, that much of the time a claim to be just fine was now a habit. As different as they were in some ways, it was a trait they had in common. Murphy was sure Bellamy knew different, knew the truth and he was certain the same could be said the other way around. That the older male recognized the he knew his suffering, or at least could understand it, along with the need to keep tales of the pain locked away most of the time. 

"I was already there, pretty much..." He trailed off as their lips met, a soft wave of comfort rolling over him. Such a small thing, a simple display of affection, a fleeting moment of tenderness, yet it meant so much. He would be hard pressed to explain it aloud, reluctant to in fact, and it seemed such an attempt would only begin to unweave the sentiment of it. He was content to merely have it. To have him. 

He watched as Bellamy rose from the bed, a hand trailing through his own hair while his partner fetched himself a drink. Murphy took a moment to let his gaze roam over the other, curves of his shoulders and back only half visible in the dimly lit room. Still, enough to appreciate, to spark a faint warmth before he turned his attention to the ceiling, arms raised and tucked behind his head. "Yeah, that's not happening."

Tag: Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: John Murphy

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Murphy revealed that he was already fairly awake though it didn't assuage Bellamy's guilt for potentially disturbing him. He was all too aware that he wasn't an easy person to be with. Nights like this were just one of the many reasons. He pulled out two cups, filling them with water before returning to the bed, extending one to Murphy and resuming his previous position of sitting up right on the bed next to John, listening to him explain that sleep wasn't going to happen. "Bad night?" Bellamy asked him, taking a few gulps of water. Just because Murphy hadn't woken in the abrupt way Bellamy had, didn't mean he wasn't plagued with his own nightmares.

Everyone dealt with it differently. And well, it was easier -- more natural even -- for Bellamy to take care of someone else. To want to protect them, be there for them. Especially for someone he felt as strongly about as Murphy. "Wanna talk about it?" He wanted to at least offer, knowing that talking could help. Though he also knew that Murphy wasn't one who often talked about his feelings. Despite how emotional Bellamy could be . . . he wasn't one accustomed to doing that either. But he wanted to get better at that. And yet, feared the burden it would pose on John when the former delinquent was already dealing with so much on his own.

[John Murphy]

He kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling as Bellamy returned to the bed, catching sight of the offered cup from the corner of his eye and reaching to accept, resting it on his stomach for now with his hand still curled around to steady. "Nah, just... " Just what? There was no real intention to finish the sentence, as all he could think of at that moment was to end it with a comment about his own dream which was of little importance. Or a word in jest which seemed equally redundant right now.  

Instead he rolled his head a touch as his gaze settled on Bellamy and eventually sat up once again, adjusting next to the other as he sipped his water. "Did you ever dream about being floated? Before they dropped us down here?" The question came so out nonchalantly it almost hid the discomfort in Murphy's voice as he spoke, the younger male wishing he could suck the words back once he had. But the question had escaped apparently as a thought not really meant to be said out loud. As if to lift the solemnity of the conversation, he dipped two fingers into his cup of water, drawing them swiftly out to flick the droplets at Bellamy's face. A small attempt to lighten the topic, if that was possible.

Tag: Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: John Murphy

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy watched Murphy with slight intent, listening attentively to the younger male as he began to say words that trailed off. He didn't interrupt though, wanting to hear what he had to say, whether it was an answer to the question or not. He then posed another question, one that left Bellamy silent as he slowly turned away to look at the nearly empty contents of his cup. He finished the last of it, pensive toward the question. The simple answer was yes, he had dreamed of getting floated. It had mostly been when his mother was alive, when Octavia was at risk of discovery. He should have been floated.

He still didn't understand why he was spared. Hell, he even tried to appeal the authorities to punish him and let his sister live. She was less of a criminal than him. He didn't realize the lasting silence until he felt a couple of wet drops on his cheek. A smirk formed on his face, smiling as he looked toward Murphy who was attempting to lighten the mood with a playful gesture. Yet another thing that Bellamy quite appreciated about him. One of the many things. He didn't bother to wipe it off as it was just a couple of drops, but the small smile, one of amusement, remained on his lips. "I have." It was answered without severe intensity thanks to John's gesture . . . it helped the conversation Bellamy found. He unlike the others, had not been arrested though.

He had not been waiting for the day he turned 18 to find out what his fate was. His reasons for the dream were far different. Bellamy set the cup down on the side table, reaching over to take Murphy's free hand not holding the cup, in his own . . . casually holding it as he looked at the former delinquent. "Is that what you dreamed about?" He asked him, wanting to be there as a support should he be troubled by the idea of getting floated. "You don't have to worry about that down here," he said as further assurance. "You won't get floated." It was a common expression for them at this point, to 'float someone'. "If anything, you'll get grounded," he said with a half smile, his own attempt to keep the mood a bit lighter at the joking pun.

[John Murphy]

Perhaps everyone on the Ark had dreamed of being floated, maybe even the chancellor himself. With so many things classed as a crime, it was a potential fate for most anyone, should they step out of line and make a mistake, or heaven forbid, be desperate enough to break the law. Regardless, he'd believed some had been safer than others, protected due to family or connections. In all honestly he'd been surprised that Clarke Griffin and the chancellor's own son Wells had been among those sent to the ground, though he was glad of it at the time. So it had turned out that nobody was untouchable. 

Murphy hadn't known much about Bellamy when they first landed, other than he was somebody's brother, a rare thing in their society. He figured somebody had for sure been floated for that and the event may have induced a fear if by chance there had not been one previously. Still, he watched Bellamy with a sidelong gaze for an answer, unsurprised when the other confirmed he had. Murphy wondered if he still did. Despite being on the ground, he considered old fears and troubles could still follow, or it could be that so many new ones had taken their place there was no room. 

He shook his head as he answered Bellamy's first question. "Not for a long time." It was true he hadn't had the nightmare of being cast out into space for a good while, nor images of others suffering the same end, though he suspected they might trouble his sleep again one day. The older male's next comments prompted both amusement and memories rather forgotten, with Murphy staying silent at first as his thoughts pulled him back to calls for him to be floated. Hadn't they been on the ground then? A faint flex of his jaw as he recollected before he pushed the memories down to bury for now. Instead, a soft chuckle at Bellamy's 'grounded' comment and a smirk to once again try to tilt the mood to a lighter side. Or maybe just a guarded one. "Oh yeah, what are they going to do... plant me in the dirt?" He offered a broader grin as he flicked yet more water at Bellamy. "You going to keep me watered?"

Tag: Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: John Murphy

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

It was at least a relief to hear that Murphy hadn't dreamed about getting floated. Hopefully that was a threat that they could set well into their past. With all the new threats that the ground brought forth, they had enough to worry about. It was refreshing, to hear the younger male chuckle. He always enjoyed seeing him smile, feeling a bit of pride that he was able to draw such an expression from him despite the trauma of their pasts -- individually and when it came to each other.

There had been a point where they would have seen the other dead. How far they'd come. His own smile of amusement grew when Murphy suggested keeping him in the dirt, tossing a few drops of water at him before asking if he was going to keep him watered. This time, he wiped away the few drops, his expression unchanged from the smirk of humor. "I'd maintain you," he told him, an underlying tone of suggestiveness in his voice.

"Keep you satisfied." The same tone for words that were slightly less subtle. Leaning forward as if it kiss Murphy, he paused when their lips were mere inches apart, hoping to distract him. "Would you like that?" He asked in a low voice, the suggestiveness more obvious now. Letting the position linger to further distract Murphy, Bellamy then dipped his own finger in his cup and returned the favor of flicking the water on his face before leaning back a little with a satisfied, smug smile.

[John Murphy]

Another quiet chuckle came at the maintaining and satisfied comments, lips parting a touch ready to offer an equally suggestive response, but he stilled once Bellamy leaned in, wholly expecting a kiss. When it didn't come he thought to move forward and close the small distance, but he remained still, his attention drifting down to Bellamy's mouth, so teasingly close, and up once again to meet the other's gaze.  

Having Bellamy not only so close but focused on him always provoked the same feeling. Murphy was reluctant to call anything happiness and was unsure he would ever really feel it, but something vaguely akin to it was now evoked within him by Bellamy Blake. Of all people. There had been a flourish of it before, back when Murphy had first aligned himself with the leader. The pride in being chosen somehow. Sure they had all had their reasons and motives for the sides they had chosen back then, but that hadn't erased the fact it wasn't the only pleasure he took in the affiliation, however latent.

Now here was that feeling again, only far more intense these days. When lingering hurt and repressed blame between them faded into the back of his mind, and although it was always there, these moments pushed them back in favor of hope for a touch, a kiss. The further question brought another smirk, Murphy again about to speak up until the splash of water had him instinctively flinching a little, eyes closed momentarily before he refocused on Bellamy. His partner's amusement adding to his own, but also fueling his next movement as he emptied the entire contents of his cup with a huge splash at the older male. The action followed first by a stare as if to gauge the initial reaction, and a second later, with a broader grin at his victory. "Sure, I'd like that."

Tag: Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: John Murphy

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy's smug smile only lasted a few moments because soon enough, he felt the remaining content of Murphy's cup dupped onto Bellamy's head. Now, it was the younger male's turn to be smug about it. Bellamy froze for a moment from the surprise of it, this time, having to force back a smirk to play into the moment. "Damn it, Murphy," he said, his voice very evidently teasing as he made no secret of that. Truth be told, he enjoyed moments like these. The smaller, casual teases. The playfulness. To be with someone to this extent, to connect to them on this emotional level . . . it was uncommon for Bellamy.

And yet, with his mere presence, Murphy allowed the darkness to diminish. The haunting dreams were practically forgotten in this moment. Because it was so much easier, so much more welcome, to focus on the company of the man before him. Bellamy shook his head a little, purposely leaning toward Murphy while doing it so that the drops of water from his thick curls would splatter onto Murphy. Stopping, he looked at the younger male. "What, you're not even going to help me dry off?" He said playfully, mock seriousness in his voice though he was very obviously kidding. Somewhat. The invitation was there to find the best, most effective way for him to dry off.

[John Murphy]

The response added to the hilarity of the situation. Even though Bellamy's words were full of jest, there was a pleasure to be taken in the inconvenience of it all. In truth he enjoyed causing a problem, however small and playful, it gratified the mischievous side of his nature. It was a bonus too that Bellamy happened to look pretty good all wet, and there came that bloom of warmth in Murphy's chest once again, now coiling further down too. 

The shake of hair causing droplets to now head his way had him leaning back a little, turning away a moment only to straighten up as Bellamy spoke. The question a welcome provocation. "No, get out. You're just getting everything wet around here." There was a quick gesture to the bed sheets which had no doubt caught a few drops, before he reached a hand up to run through his partner's hair, as if to smooth a little of the water away. Fingers now curling to grasp and give a gentle tug to pretend to wring out the other's hair, only to loosen and let go, with Murphy leaning forward to bring them closer while he let his arm rest in a lazy embrace around Bellamy's shoulder. "That better?"

Tag: Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: John Murphy

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy had no intention of getting out despite the sheets getting wet. In fact, he felt all the more compelled to stay, just to be defiant of Murphy's command. Then again, Murphy in bed was all the incentive that Bellamy needed to remain in place. It wasn't so much the defiance, as it was the ease and peace he felt when John was near. When he could easily hold him, and be with him. As if the man had heard Bellamy's thoughts of the comfort he derived from his presence, the younger male reached for his hair, running his hand through it. The sensation was a comforting one, and a gesture that Bellamy often enjoyed in multiple contexts.

Right now, the objective may have been to help dry him off, but he was enjoying it for more emotional reasons as oppose to any physical convenience. He gave it a bit of a squeeze before releasing it, and Bellamy felt the immediate deprivation of his touch. Though not for long, because Murphy leaned closer, his arm casually around his shoulder. Between Bellamy's earlier tease and this, the temptation was getting practically impossible to resist. His question made an almost mischievous smile form on Bellamy's lips.

Perhaps it would have fully done so had he not acted in response immediately following his words. "You can do better," he teased him. With that, he closed the distance between them. The kiss was deeper than the first they had shortly after waking up. This time, it was slower, deeper, as Bellamy coaxed Murphy's mouth open with his own to further taste the male . . . quenching a thirst that water never would be able to. One hand moved to the back of Murphy's head to press him closer against him, while his other hand moved over the younger male's chest, feeling the warmth of his lighter toned skin.

[John Murphy]

The smirk at the other's words was brief, the kiss now stealing all focus as Murphy obliged with a parting of his lips now pressed to Bellamy's. The contact had him easing closer still, meeting the fervor of the kiss with the same enthusiasm, his tongue dipping to meet Bellamy's. Darker thoughts rolled further back as a yearning for the other took the spotlight. There was a need to be somehow closer, despite their contact, and as if to answer the desire, Bellamy pulled him in.

It was exactly where he wanted to be. It was true that at times he needed his space, but that respite didn't compare to this. He would always hunger for this and he was sure Bellamy knew it. Even if unspoken, even if merely a subtly longing look shared across a room, it was always there.

A craving swirled quickly, the younger male tightening his embrace as if to keep the other from moving away, with Murphy pressing in to the touch at his chest in encouragement as Bellamy's hand trailed his skin. He felt another droplet of water from the other's hair fall to his cheek, now absently reaching up with his free hand to run his fingers through a second time, before curling them tight to hold once again, this time without a release.

Tag: Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: John Murphy

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Kissing Murphy was a sensation that Bellamy would never grow tired off. Each time, it felt exhilarating. As if he had the ability to just breathe life back into Bellamy. He had never thought he would recover from Mount Weather, but the man he was embraced with now proved otherwise. It was a gratitude that the older male would never be able to fully express. All he could do was appreciate him through actions and words. Through the relationship they had formed from it. He breathed into the kiss, basking in the feelings the former delinquent never failed in causing to stir within Bellamy.

His fingers running through his hair just added to it, a welcome sensation . . . a soothing action. He instinctively reacted, slowly leaning forward and thus causing his partner to move back until Murphy's back was against the bed and Bellamy positioned himself on top of him. Ensuring not to break the contact of his lips, he continued to move his mouth against his as he settled above him. He slowly eased out of it but hardly parting his lips from Murphy's skin. Instead, they trailed along his jaw line, moving toward his neck when he kissed along the plains of it, lightly teasing the soft skin between his teeth before soothing it with his tongue in each kiss against it.