They decide to head back together with the girl they saved, which they both regretted and were thankful for in equal measures. There was tension from unspoken words, sidewards glances that they both pretended they hadn't seen. What was there to say when someone you were supposed to hate saves your life?
After hours, when they were both beginning to reach their limit, they arrived at camp. They handed the girl off to paramedics and headed straight for the dropship to get much needed supplies and hopefully some distance.
But Murphy being Murphy, he couldn't leave well enough alone.
"I saw the way you looked at me when you realised I was the one who pulled you up," he says as more of an innocent statement than an accusation.
Bellamy instantly turns on Murphy and tries to tower over him by way of intimidation, his voice that low husky tone he used when he tried to scare people to get what he wanted. "What are you trying to imply, Murphy?"
Murphy scoffs at Bellamy's attempt at bravado, locking eyes with him in a cold stare for a moment before he lifts his forearm to press just below Bellamy's throat, using the claim on his chest to shove him back against the opposing wall, showing no concern for possible passersby.
Bellamy's breaths become labored against his better judgement as he attempts to grab at the remains of his unbothered stance. "You better watch yourself, Murphy. Or I'll--"
"Or you'll what? You think you're not completely transparent, Bellamy? The poor boy who was thrust into the role of a leader without a say in the matter. The poor little boy who just wants someone else to be in charge for once..." Murphy's eyes drop to Bellamy's lips at that moment. "Tell me I'm wrong and we'll never speak of this little exchange again."
Bellamy's jaw sets in a hard line, his mind at war with itself as he feels himself tightening against the material of his pants, but his thoughts buzz with objection to him relinquishing his ever present job as the boss, the one who's responsible for everyone.
Moments pass with nothing but the accelerated heartbeats of the two men sounding in the hallway, until Bellamy finally parts his lips to speak a single cracked word, "John..."
And with that, Murphy's mouth was on his and their surroundings completely fade away. It wouldn't have mattered if they were in the midst of war or in the comfort of one of their bunks, there was only each other.
It was all tongue, nips, moans, desperation and control from one side. In the exchange of passion and need, Murphy had easily manoeuvred Bellamy's hands above his own head, holding them in place by their wrists as he trailed across Bellamy's jawline to find the shell of his ear.
"My room. Now." he said in a breathy manner that was barely above a whisper.
He released him suddenly, and Bellamy mourned the distance through the increasingly uncomfortable throbbing in his cock.
Murphy gave no more instruction than a tilt of his head to their right, but Bellamy knew his orders. Get your ass to my bed now. I'm not one for waiting, Blake. Murphy wasn't really one for communication, but you could easily see his desires shining in his eyes if you looked for them.
The two minute walk to find the correct door felt like an eternity, with Murphy on Bellamy's heels the entire way, breathing down his neck in a way that made it impossible for Bellamy himself to pull in any oxygen. It was so maddening that every time they passed a door, they both gave what they thought was a subtle glance towards it, debating just using whatever was beyond that passageway to fulfil their needs. But they both knew better. Who knew how long they'd be occupied. Not that either was shy and would particularly care about being caught, but it would just be such an inconvenience to relocate and continue.
Once they practically crashed their way through the correct door, Bellamy spun around to find Murphy, but before he could even brace himself, he'd been knocked back down onto the plush of a mattress.
There were lips hungrily devouring every exposed inch of flesh he had. The weight of Murphy on top of him, the friction of their bodies rubbing and grinding against each other, god it made him feel so pathetic how close he could already feel himself getting to the edge.
Which prompted him to sputter, "N-now!" Not quite his most eloquent moment.
Murphy drew back to aim a smirk down at the quivering mess that lay beneath him. Eyes wide, cheeks tinted red, mouth hanging loose, desperate to pull in as much air as he could. He was beautiful.
"You think you get to make demands? I thought we'd established that that's not how it works at times like these..."
Murphy scanned Bellamy's expression and body for a moment before speaking again. "I'll give you what you want, but you're not allowed to so much as move, I don't even want to hear a sound, unless I tell you what to do. If you break the rules, we start again. Understood?"
Bellamy nodded a little more desperately than he would've liked, but he just needed to get his release. It was borderline painful how hard he'd gotten from nothing more than fucking foreplay.
That obnoxiously smug look took over Murphy's face as he silently went to work, dipping his hands beneath the fabric of Bellamy's shirt, nodding to his arms as he murmured "Up," and Bellamy obliged. He wished he could just yank his own clothes off and get to it, none of this teasingly slow, backwards strip show shit.
But those thoughts swiftly subsided when Murphy brought his mouth to Bellamy's neck, creating a light suction that he was sure would mark him. Bastard is trying to brand me as his. He let out a grunt that was a mixture of disapproval and pleasure.
Murphy pulled away, tutting to himself as he did. "I believe that counts as a sound. That earns you a second hickey." And true to his word, he swapped to the other side of his neck and started again.
Bellamy really was trying. He was practically biting a hole through his lower lip to keep from moaning and also to distract him from the temptation of squirming. But he lost it again when murphy's tongue swiped over his nipple, the shock and sensation eliciting a gasp.
This time, Murphy didn't even vocalise his mistake, he simply made his way back to his starting point for a second time.
This happened twice more, once when Murphy ground his hips into Bellamy's and he involuntarily returned the gesture, and another when Murphy yanked Bellamy's pants and underwear down to his knees and Bellamy had lifted himself off the bed to help without being asked.
By the time Murphy had descended his body for what felt like the twentieth time, Bellamy was a mess. He was panting and covered in a layer of sweat. He was so beyond ready to get what he really wanted, but there was something in the agonising wait and the authoritative voice who had made the rules that made this all the more satisfying, the heightened sensation and need, by itself it was almost enough to make him come undone.
But there was no need for that, as Murphy finally neared his stiffened member and took it into his hand. Bellamy's eyes squeezed shut, he was determined to obey, to finally get what he needed.
Murphy dipped his head and gave the tip of Bellamy's cock one single lick, to which he earned a yell of "Fuck!"
Murphy glanced up just in time to catch Bellamy's eyes fly open, a look of wild desperation in them as he anticipated beginning the wait all over again.
"You know what, Bell? I'll let that one go, just because you taste so fucking good."
Bellamy's head dropped back to the mattress beneath him as Murphy's mouth took in his entire length.
He couldn't believe he had ever thought he was a top.