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[He does settle, easing a bit of his weight down so Murphy is half pinned. Murphy's comment is almost flippant, nearly enough to pull Bellamy up short, but... Is there really any point to digging into that further right now? Will it actually help Murphy? Maybe this is what he really needs—a reminder that Bellamy is here with him.

So he lets it go and kisses Murphy back, long and lingering.]

[ Murphy senses that disturbance, and he's not about to let Bellamy fall into that hole, either. He was kidding (sort of) and yes, kissing him is far more important. His tongue sneaks into Bellamy's mouth for a soothing caress while his fingers gather up Bellamy's shirt, before he breaks away to tug it off. ]

[It's easy enough to redirect his focus. Somehow, Murphy manages to have that effect on him in a way Bellamy hasn't fully figured out yet. When he starts getting into his own head, Murphy has a way of pulling him out. He's found himself seeking it out more and more.

Which is why, when Murphy pulls away, Bellamy lets out a quiet sound of complaint until he realizes what he's doing. As soon as the shirt is over his head and tossed aside, he leans back down to kiss Murphy again, needier this time.]

[ Murphy takes Bellamy's face in his hands to draw him back in, meeting him for that hungry kiss. No need to worry, his mouth assures Bellamy's. He'll get what he needs. He won't be denied.

Reaffirming that assurance, Murphy's back arches and his hips rock up in an unhurried grind against Bellamy. He wants Bellamy to feel his arousal, through the bond and outside of it, welcoming and encouraging him to pursue what he wants. It's not selfish when Murphy wants it, too. ]

[He's rewarded with a renewed wave of lazy heat as their hips grind together. Whatever discomfort or anxiety Bellamy had left is fading fast, crowded out by the softness of Murphy's lips on his and the press of their bodies together.

When they break for air, Bellamy murmurs softly against Murphy's mouth.]

Bed?

[Or here? He's not picky.]

Here.

[ If only because moving to the bed would require a few extra seconds of separation and Murphy's not willing to make the sacrifice right now. He closes the breath of space between them, pulling Bellamy back into the kiss. ]

[Bellamy is more than happy to oblige, deepening the kiss, his heart skipping a beat in that pleasant little way that always seems to happen with Murphy now. He slips his hand under the hem of Murphy's shirt, fingers trailing lightly up his side.]

[ That sends a shiver up his spine that's echoed in the way his body presses closer to Bellamy's. His hands slip in their hold, fingers grazing Bellamy's throat before he lets his arms drop away. The way they're stretched over Murphy's head will make it easier to undress him, but it's also an especially submissive pose, the way he'd look if he were surrendering his wrists to be tied.

And that's not an accident. He's not in charge, this time. He can be vulnerable for Bellamy. He wants Bellamy to feel his guard go down. For him. ]

[It's impossible to mistake it for anything else, and Bellamy hesitates for just a second before slipping Murphy's shirt up over his head.

Then all he can do is pause, taking in Murphy below him, biting his lip. His hand cups Murphy's cheek, then slides down, fingers tracing over his chest, over his abs, lingering at every little scar and mark. He realizes his heart rate is ratcheting up, realizes how clear his adoration must be through the bond. He's glad Murphy can feel it.

Bellamy reaches up, one hand catching Murphy's wrists above his head, gentle but firm, then finally leans back down to catch Murphy's lips with his.]

[ It's one thing to know someone loves you and entirely another to feel it. Murphy's breath catches when Bellamy's adoration washes over him. Its existence isn't new, but for a moment, the depth of it is overwhelming. Murphy doesn't know what to do with it, this full understanding of what he means to Bellamy. He would certainly have doubted it if it was delivered to him in words. Through the bond, though, it can't be denied. And he would never want to push this feeling away, no matter how undeserving of it he knows that he is.

The journey of Bellamy's hand works visible magic over him, tension easing out of Murphy's muscles. Instead of flinching when Bellamy grips his wrists, he relaxes into that hold, and he accepts Bellamy's kiss with all the gratitude of someone who feels very lucky to be where he is. Love like this is rare - rare enough for cynics to say it's impossible - but Murphy believes in it, believes in Bellamy enough to believe in it, and he's sorry he made Bellamy feel anything different. ]

[Maybe this just isn't easy for either of them—trusting freely, without any reservation. Bellamy is self-aware enough to know that love is wrapped up in fear for him, just as it is for Murphy. The difference is, Bellamy's fear is always fear of loss, of failing the people he cares about, where Murphy's is tied up in fear of being cast aside.

It means they can meet in the middle, though, and that's all Bellamy needs. This is all he needs, Murphy relaxing underneath him, feeling his contentment and security. Bellamy pulls away to press soft kisses to the hollow of Murphy's throat, fingers of his free hand catching in Murphy's waistband.]

[ Murphy bares his throat for Bellamy's mouth, his eyes heavy-lidded and his lips curved with the hint of a smile as he relishes those kisses. It feels a little bit like Bellamy's spoiling him with all this tenderness, which is nice in light of that earlier contention, though not exactly necessary. He's not so fragile.

Really, he knows, this is for Bellamy's benefit. He likes performing this indulgence - Murphy can feel it - and he's welcome to it. He would love to feel Bellamy's mouth on every inch of his body, sweet and devoted and soothing.

Murphy's not impatient. Though every kiss sends heat pooling in his core, he leaves the pace to Bellamy. His jeans might be increasingly restrictive, but Bellamy will free him soon enough. ]

[This is all he wants, feeling Murphy relaxing, that mounting heat. Bellamy trails his lips downward, inch by inch, still taking his time. He releases Murphy's wrists, hands gripping his hips instead, pausing for a moment before unbuttoning Murphy's pants. Bellamy slips his waistband down an inch or two, mouth fitting against the swell of his hipbone. Then he finally peeks up, as though asking permission.]

[ Murphy shuts his eyes briefly as Bellamy's mouth makes its journey across his skin, his heart giving a flutter of exhilaration with every brush. He resists the urge to let his hands reach for Bellamy now that they're free, because it's his turn to explore, and Murphy doesn't want to give him all the directions.

He only looks at Bellamy when he feels that unspoken question, and his shoulders shake with silent laughter. ]

Am I supposed to beg?

[ He's already aching with desire, in case Bellamy couldn't tell. When he lay down, he was offering Bellamy everything, and it's increasingly unlikely he'll change his mind. ]

[Bellamy smirks at that, something mischievous to the quirk of his lips.]

Might be nice.

[He tugs the waistband of Murphy's jeans down over his hips, but doesn't move otherwise. Bellamy loves seeing him like this, so relaxed and content.]

Sounds like a challenge to me.

Asshole.

[ Said with total affection and accompanied by a flash of heightened arousal. It hadn't occurred to him that he might ever enjoy begging Bellamy for anything, and yet... ]

Come on.

[ Murphy's fingers curl, claws hooked for useless purchase against the floor. He's being good, resisting the need to grab at Bellamy, even though he's so hard it hurts. His next words are breathless: ]

Please. Okay? I want you so bad. I want you so bad, I'll let you do anything to me. Just do something.

[He didn't think Murphy would, and fresh heat rushes through him.]

Anything, huh?

[Bellamy does do something—slides Murphy's pants lower, enough to press slow, lazy kisses along his inner thigh. He's not going to be able to torture Murphy too much longer, considering his own impatience, but a second or two... He can manage that.]

[ Every little thing Bellamy does is so delectable, Murphy can't even really be frustrated by the delay. He's fully absorbed in the sensuality of Bellamy's mouth against his thigh, how strangely cherished it makes him feel. It's more like veneration than torture, to him, and his whole body wants to chase after Bellamy for more.

His legs give a quiver as he suppresses that instinct, his cock less capable of suppressing its demanding throbs. His hands drag across the floor, closer to Bellamy but not yet reaching for him. ]

You have no idea.

[ Well, that's blatantly untrue, between the empathy bond and the physical evidence. But still, he's not sure Bellamy has yet fully grasped the degree of his infatuation. ]

I mean it. Do anything you want.

[He can feel Murphy's infatuation, is practically dizzy with it, and it's nearly overwhelming the way it mirrors his own. The way Murphy trembles makes his heart skip a beat, and he finally reaches for him, fingers wrapping around his shaft, lips brushing teasingly over the head of his cock. This isn't meant to be torturous—he wants Murphy to feel adored, to lay back and luxuriate in it. Bellamy keeps things slow as he takes Murphy into his mouth, tongue tracing over him, eyes still locked on his face.]

[ An obscene sound rushes past Murphy's lips, equal parts relief and amazement. It may never stop being a surprise to him that Bellamy is really with him, after everything, and the sheer intimacy of Bellamy's mouth on the head of his cock is overwhelming on a level that would be impossible to notice without the bond. It makes him feel safe, to be laid out so vulnerably and to be rewarded with tenderness, to be cared for in such a physically tangible way.

He can only hold Bellamy's gaze for a moment before rolling his head back and shutting his eyes. It's a perfect image to hold onto, Bellamy paying worship to him with the plush softness of his mouth, and now Murphy wants to focus on the sensations. ]

[Even without the empathy bond, that noise would be enough for Bellamy, but on top of everything else, it sets his heart racing. Just seeing Murphy like this, knowing how safe he feels, is more than enough.

The next best thing would be sussing out what works on Murphy, how he can get another noise like that out of him. Bellamy wraps his fingers around Murphy's shaft, picks up an unhurried rhythm with his hand and his mouth, letting the empathy bond guide his pace.]

[ It feels like a dream, the warmth of Bellamy's mouth taking him in, the diligent massage of his hand working him up. Murphy immediately forgets he's supposed to be holding back, his fingers sliding through Bellamy's hair, urging him to keep going. Like that. ]

That's so good...

[ Of course, Bellamy could have no idea what he's doing and Murphy would be reveling in it anyway. The concept is the most erotic part, all this attention focused on pleasing him. It's just his luck (or the grace of their empathy bond) that Bellamy knows exactly how to do it. ]

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