Chapter Text

Leather

Part I: Follow the leader down

Intro

John Murphy isn't a rock.

He strains to keep his stare cool and his expression unreadable but Bellamy isn't fooled.

The boy is not a rock. He is not solid, nor is he cold or hard.

Bellamy is a rock. Hard, solid, cold... and that makes him brittle because rock breaks.

Murphy... Murphy is a worn piece of leather. Tough but flexible. Soft and pliable.

Bellamy likes this analogy. Leather is resilient.

You can bend it...

Twist it...

Burn it...

Cut it...

It does not break.

It bruises but it does not break.

Chapter 1: Unremarkable

When Bellamy first lays eyes on the boy, he dismisses him almost instantly. The boy is unremarkable. He's all pale skin, long limbs and sharp edges.

Their eyes don't meet. Not at first.

Not until he catches a glimpse of him approaching Wells Jaha at the head of a rugged troop of stick wielding teenagers. The boy's voice is almost as unremarkable as he, himself, is. It's pinched and slightly nasal, yet there is a certain richness to it that sparks Bellamy's interest. Not enough to warrant his full attention but enough for him to allow a small smile to tug at the corner of his lips as this cocky little punk advances onto a much larger, much more remarkable member of their reluctant band of outcasts.

To the kid's credit, Jaha shifts uncomfortably, curiously unsettled by this very unremarkable teenage boy.

And that secures the older Blake's full attention.

Because Bellamy smells weakness, right there, in the broader teen and he strolls towards the scene, ready to seize the opportunity should it present itself. He raises his voice and notes with a touch of amusement how Jaha's whole posture relaxes, how the chancellor’s son turns to him, almost too quickly...

And when Mr Unremarkable's cold stare settles onto him, Bellamy understands.

The kid's eyes are hard... A pair of hard steel orbs peering at him from beneath hooded eyelids, cold and distant, deeply set below the boy's slightly furrowed brow. Dispassionate, distant but Oh, so very remarkable .

Their eyes meet and Bellamy feels an uncomfortable chill run down his spine as he holds that stormy gaze for an instant longer than he should, his smile stretching wider across his freckled face.

Oh yes, he can work with this.

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He doesn't second guess himself when the kid abruptly snaps and shoves Jaha's shoulder with a wicked smirk before kicking the man's leg out from under him. Friendly is not what he's after.

He doesn't second guess himself when the boy taunts the limping Jaha, trying to provoke him into charging so he can land a few easy blows. Fair-play is not what he's after.

He doesn't second guess himself when he see the misspelt threat on the side of the Dropship. Smarts is not what he's after.

An enforcer is what he's after.

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Bellamy catches sight of the boy again later that day as Jaha shoves past him, hobbling on his sprained ankle, muttering something about 'spelling' and 'geniuses', and resists the urge to point out that a genius such as himself should probably know that the correct plural for 'genius' is, in fact, not 'geniuses'.

He does, however, note with no small amount of satisfaction that the chancellor’s son is still shifting uncomfortably, doing everything in his power to avoid holding the boy's pale, unsettling stare. Bellamy wipes another smile off his face and puffs his chest out a little as he approaches the kid and his guarded companion. He looks impossibly pale standing next to the darker teen that seems permanently attached to his hip.

'If you're going to kill someone it's probably best not to announce it.'

The boy scoffs and meets his eyes unwaveringly, a humourless smile splitting that narrow face like a knife as he scrutinises Bellamy with an intensity that throws the older man off guard for a second. Ballsy little shit.

The exchange that follows is surprisingly one sided, save for a few interruptions from Mr Unremarkable's increasingly hostile sidekick. The pasty boy is suddenly quiet, attentive. Bellamy knows he's got him right there so he points to the bracelet on his narrow wrist with a confident smile.

'Take them off. The ark will think we're dead, that it's not safe to follow.'

Bellamy marks a pause for emphasis and boldly meets the kid's eerie eyes as he goes in for the kill...

'You follow...?'

Pale orbs drift down to his lips for a fluttering second and Bellamy knows he will. Until the very end.

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