[He's not, not at all. He's too tangled up in Murphy's reactions, more than he was his own, and all he can focus on is getting him to let go, to start thrusting and stop caring about anything else. That satisfaction humming through the empathy bond is edged with anticipation now and a sort of eagerness.
Bellamy doesn't bother to answer directly, just soaks in the strain in his voice and the way his breathing is shifting. His rhythm picks up again, following the motion of Murphy's hips as he trails soft bites along Murphy's collarbone. He's not even paying attention to whether he might leave a mark. Part of him wants something for Murphy to remember this by.]
[ Murphy's hands drag through Bellamy's hair, encouraging him. Nothing would make him happier than to look in the mirror later and find evidence that this really happened, that it wasn't all a dream.
It's getting to be impossible to hold back. Murphy's gasps are getting vocal now, his entire body swaying as he ruts up against Bellamy. This is the very least of what he wants to do to Bellamy, and it's still so good, just the squeeze of his hand and the scrape of his teeth. It's not just the heat of this moment that's driving him to the edge. It's that this is the beginning, that there's the promise of more in every move Bellamy makes. ]
Kiss me.
[ It's urgent, suddenly necessary. He takes Bellamy's face in his hands to draw his mouth back up, crushing their lips together. ]
[It's dizzying how quickly Murphy is losing control. Murphy's need is so obvious that the empathy bond is almost superfluous, and Bellamy loves every second of it. The demand in that statement just makes it all the more perfect, and his heart skips a beat with anticipation. When their lips meet, Bellamy kisses him back hungrily, clumsy with fresh desire and that intimate, overwhelming awareness of how close Murphy is. Nothing else seems to matter but that.]
[ Murphy's spine arcs with that final thrust, his body seizing in climax, thighs squeezing at Bellamy's hips. It's that kiss that does him in, the sheer bliss of finding his desire matched in Bellamy, the confirmation that he was fucking right about this. An obscene sound rolls straight out of his mouth and into Bellamy's, jaw slacking and lips dragging.
He comes hard, spilling over Bellamy's fingers, and shivers feverishly through it. With the release of all that tension, he throws his arms around Bellamy just to stay upright, and kisses him again, practically euphoric. ]
[It hits him like a truck, all of that pleasure and euphoria and twin desire, and suddenly Bellamy can't catch his breath. Feeling it from the other side is as incredible as he'd guessed, but so intense that it's almost impossible to process, and he goes rigid. It's the jerk of his hips and the squeeze of Murphy's legs around him, all that emotion surging through the empathy bond as his hand stills.
Murphy kisses him and brings Bellamy back to himself enough to kiss back, wrapping his free arm around Murphy to steady him. He's aching with affection and the kind of contented certainty he hasn't felt in... He isn't even sure how long. It's absolutely perfect.]
[ Now that he's coming down from all that physical overload, Murphy can fully appreciate the array of emotions cycling between them. He's vibrating with a happiness too intense to name, and he can't tell whether Bellamy is the origin of it or the cause. His heart feels full of it. He's loved Bellamy for years, so deeply he hadn't thought it was possible to love him more, yet here they are.
Here they are.
When the kiss breaks, he nuzzles against Bellamy's cheek, still fighting to catch his breath. ]
You good?
[ Murphy can't detect any regrets through the bond, but it seems important to ask. ]
[ Murphy can barely remember the struggle now that he's on the other side of it. In fact, the gloom of these past few months is suddenly an abstract concept. In one hour, he's gone from alone to not alone.
He's in no particular hurry to separate, either. In fact, he could fall asleep right here in Bellamy's arms and he wouldn't regret it, exhausted and satisfied as he is. He lays a couple lazy kisses to Bellamy's cheek, a pure and unfamiliar joy radiating from the contact. ]
[Bellamy laughs at that, soft and affectionate. He wasn't quite expecting a 'thank you', but it's endearing. The euphoria is fading into a deeper sort of happiness.]
[ Why wouldn't he thank Bellamy? They had a good time, but this wasn't necessarily something Bellamy wanted to do - now or ever - and that's a gesture Murphy recognizes. That he did it anyway. It's nice of him. ]
You can probably find some in the trash later. I'll pretend I don't notice they're recycled.
[ Murphy hums into the kiss, possibly agreeing. Then again, convincing Bellamy to actually be with him had seemed like an impossible goal just one day ago. He would say he aimed pretty high and got very lucky. ]
[He rests his forehead against Murphy's for a second longer, then pulls back, untangling himself.]
Stay here. I'll be back.
[Bellamy climbs off the bed, tugs his boxers back on, and slips out the door. A few moments later, he returns, tossing a washcloth at Murphy and joining him again. No flowers, though. What an asshole.]
[ Murphy's draped across the bed when Bellamy returns, looking so mellow he could be seconds away from sleep. He catches the washcloth without missing a beat, however, and starts cleaning himself off without hurry. ]
[Bellamy doesn't even hesitate before settling in beside Murphy again, draping an arm over him. He's still warm with satisfaction and contentment, and he wants to cling onto it for a while longer.]
[ Murphy tosses aside the washcloth as soon as he's clean, snuggling in close and tangling their legs together. Thank you, this will be a perfect place to fall asleep. ]
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Bellamy doesn't bother to answer directly, just soaks in the strain in his voice and the way his breathing is shifting. His rhythm picks up again, following the motion of Murphy's hips as he trails soft bites along Murphy's collarbone. He's not even paying attention to whether he might leave a mark. Part of him wants something for Murphy to remember this by.]
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It's getting to be impossible to hold back. Murphy's gasps are getting vocal now, his entire body swaying as he ruts up against Bellamy. This is the very least of what he wants to do to Bellamy, and it's still so good, just the squeeze of his hand and the scrape of his teeth. It's not just the heat of this moment that's driving him to the edge. It's that this is the beginning, that there's the promise of more in every move Bellamy makes. ]
Kiss me.
[ It's urgent, suddenly necessary. He takes Bellamy's face in his hands to draw his mouth back up, crushing their lips together. ]
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He comes hard, spilling over Bellamy's fingers, and shivers feverishly through it. With the release of all that tension, he throws his arms around Bellamy just to stay upright, and kisses him again, practically euphoric. ]
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Murphy kisses him and brings Bellamy back to himself enough to kiss back, wrapping his free arm around Murphy to steady him. He's aching with affection and the kind of contented certainty he hasn't felt in... He isn't even sure how long. It's absolutely perfect.]
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Here they are.
When the kiss breaks, he nuzzles against Bellamy's cheek, still fighting to catch his breath. ]
You good?
[ Murphy can't detect any regrets through the bond, but it seems important to ask. ]
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Better than good. Did that help?
[With everything Murphy's been struggling with all day, he means.]
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[ Murphy can barely remember the struggle now that he's on the other side of it. In fact, the gloom of these past few months is suddenly an abstract concept. In one hour, he's gone from alone to not alone.
He's in no particular hurry to separate, either. In fact, he could fall asleep right here in Bellamy's arms and he wouldn't regret it, exhausted and satisfied as he is. He lays a couple lazy kisses to Bellamy's cheek, a pure and unfamiliar joy radiating from the contact. ]
Thanks. For all of this.
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I don't have any flowers for you. Sorry.
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You can probably find some in the trash later. I'll pretend I don't notice they're recycled.
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Trash flowers? That's your bar?
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Too high?
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You're gonna trip over it.
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Stay here. I'll be back.
[Bellamy climbs off the bed, tugs his boxers back on, and slips out the door. A few moments later, he returns, tossing a washcloth at Murphy and joining him again. No flowers, though. What an asshole.]
Your head doing okay?
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Feeling perfect.
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That good, huh?
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[ Murphy tosses aside the washcloth as soon as he's clean, snuggling in close and tangling their legs together. Thank you, this will be a perfect place to fall asleep. ]
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[Bellamy smooths his fingers through Murphy's hair, lips quirking up.]
Get some sleep, Murphy.