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Aye Aye, Captain
“Bellamyyy…” Murphy drapes himself across Bellamy’s lap, pressing himself into his chest on their apartment’s favourite couch (the one that looks out the big bay window).
“What, Murphy?” Bellamy’s lips tug into a smile, running his hands over his boyfriend’s shoulders, down his pale arms. He looks like he’s been dipped in sunlight, the golden hue making his features even softer. Murphy’s heart flutters in his chest.
“I’m bored.” He kisses Bellamy’s neck quickly, smirking up at him, then kisses his shoulder. Bellamy smells amazing and Murphy takes a deep breath, inhaling against his skin and dark green sweatshirt.
“Then find something to do.” Bellamy laughs as Murphy groans.
“How ‘bout I find someone to do?” Murphy’s voice is full of snark, grinning wolfishly up at Bellamy.
“How about not in front of company.” Clarke chuckles from the couch opposite the couple.
“Aw, you’re not company, Princess, you’re an unwelcome visitor.”
“Murphy! Don’t be rude to our friend.” Bellamy scolds Murphy with a horrified look.
“I’m not being rude, am I Princess? I know you love me deep down in that cold dead heart.” Murphy grins, rolling off Bellamy’s lap and plopping himself down on the couch, draping himself over Bellamy’s shoulder in an almost possessive way. He still didn’t like that Bellamy used to have a small crush on her. While they were dating. Around the first time they’d met her. Murphy supposes he should be happy though, that since getting to know the blonde every romantic bit of Bellamy’s crush had dissolved into firm platonic fondness. Otherwise there would have been problems. Like Fourth of July three years ago level problems that have since been resolved but no one likes to mention. Except Murphy. When he’s drunk. Like the aforementioned Fourth of July, two months after meeting and befriending Clarke at a bar while celebrating graduating from the local university, and one month after knowing about Bellamy's vaguely romantic inclinations.
Clarke rolls her eyes and laughs, tucking her legs under herself. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve been around you long enough to know that you love me too, deep down in your cold dead heart.” Unfortunately, she was right. Now. Three years ago, that statement would have earned someone a bloody nose.
“Whatever you say.” Murphy rolls his eyes, nuzzling his nose aggressively against Bellamy’s neck.
“You’re really annoying, you know that?” Bellamy snorts, kissing the top of Murphy’s head. Murphy feels him inhale against his hair, just as he had done earlier. Murphy feels his smirk grow gentle for a moment, feeling secure in his boyfriend’s love. Not much had ever been constant in Murphy’s life, but Bellamy was, and he loved him for it. Bellamy had taught him that it was okay to have problems and fight, and that as long as they both cared and chose to love each other, they could always work things out. Bellamy taught him that no one and no relationship is perfect. Even if Murphy sometimes thinks theirs is in its own wacked out way.
“Aye aye, Captain.” Murphy grins, fluttering his eyes at Bellamy who lets out a groan.
Murphy feels a spark of satisfaction as he sees Clarke’s look of disgusted fondness before Bellamy speaks. “Will you ever let that go?”
“Never.”
“Let what go?” Clarke’s voice is laced with confusion.
“Bellamy was the captain of the football team in high school.” Murphy smirks, unwrapping himself from Bellamy’s body and leaning against the opposite side of their couch, his legs pulled up between them, tucked into his chest, feeling secure enough to pull himself away.
“What’s so wrong with that? I was cheerleading captain.”
“Precisely.” Murphy and Bellamy say at the same time, Murphy with a smirk and Bellamy with a groan.
“Precisely?”
“Murphy thinks high school football supports and establishes capitalist hierarchical systems and promotes patriarchy via said cheerleading.”
“Also, he was a stuck-up asshole whose head inflated so much it got stuck up his ass.” Murphy kicks at Bellamy’s leg.
“It was called being popular, Murphy.” Bellamy facepalms, having had this conversation too many times to count.
“It was called succumbing to societal norms and the—” Murphy’s cut off by Bellamy’s exasperated groan. Clarke watches their bickering with amusement dancing in her eyes.
“And the capitalist pigs. I know.”
“How many times has he given you that speech?”
“Too many. The first time was the day I asked him to homecoming.” Bellamy shoots a pointed look at Murphy who smirks back at him.
“I didn’t know you went to homecoming together!” Clarke’s eyes are wide, having seen their adorable prom photos they have decorating their apartment.
“That’s because we didn’t.” Bellamy’s pouting and Murphy is grinning.
“That was part of my rejection speech.”
“Rejection speech?” Clarke stares wide eyed at a proud Murphy and a wounded looking Bellamy.
“When you make a very public declaration, you get a very public refusal.”
“I didn’t think you’d refuse!” Bellamy whips around to face an offended looking Murphy.
“That’s because you were a popular asshole. I had standards!”
“No, I asked you because we’d been dating for a year and a half!”
“It was presumptuous.”
“We were in a committed relationship! We said ‘I love you’!”
“And you knew I hated football players!”
“You said yes when I asked you out!”
“Because I thought it was very anti-establishment of you and it was hot.” Murphy mutters, looking anywhere but Bellamy.
“You thought it was hot?” Bellamy’s face was earnest, adorable, and when Murphy finally looked back at him, done being defiant, he let his expression go soft at Bellamy’s incredulousness.
“Yes. You were hot and adorable and were like a puppy and I couldn’t help it. A stupid football playing idiot hot puppy.”
“Aw, babe! I love you, too, Johnny.” Bellamy flops over Murphy’s curled up figure, a dopey grin on his face as he crushes Murphy into a snuggle.
Clarke bursts out laughing. “You guys are adorable.” Murphy gives Clarke the finger from where he’s being crushed beneath his boyfriend’s sexy body. Bellamy doesn’t spare Clarke a glance, grinning down at Murphy and planting a sweet kiss on his lips, making Murphy smile up at him in return as though they were the only people in the world.