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Who's in Charge?

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"There is no way in hell that I'm watching Finding Nemo again." Bellamy groans, leaning against the kitchen counter as he waited for the microwave to beep, signifying the completion of his long awaited popcorn.

The rest of the group sighed from their own spots in the tiny room, ranging from the table, to the floor, to Octavia balancing over the sink.

"I second that," Murphy adds, "I'm pretty sure it isn't healthy for college kids to watch a child's movie four times in one week."

"You'll never fucking catch me alive." Raven mumbles, searching through the fridge.

Murphy ignores her as he sees the look shared between Monty and Jasper. "What?" He asks.

"Nothing." Monty squeaks out quickly just as Jasper says "Of course you'd second that." The boy turns his gaze to Bellamy before laughing quietly.

Murphy's own gaze turns to the older man too, who merely gives him a shrug as he mouths "Drugs" to him. Murphy has to cough to hide his laughter as he reads his lips. There were a lot of herbs in the garden, and Jasper had hardly ever said no to any of them.

He rolls his eyes, turning back to his task; getting his own bag of popcorn. The job seemed simple enough, but some asshole placed it on the top shelf, completely out of reach for his 5'3 frame.

Luckily for him, his boyfriend stood at 6'2, easily reaching over his head for the package he'd been glaring at. The freckled man presses his lover's body into the counter as he pulls it down, earning a low whistle from Clarke. They turn to her, and find all of the group snickering.


They've moved to the living room, having finally decided on Fast and Furious.

"I still think Finding Ne-"

"I will fight you." Murphy practically growls at Monroe.

"Will you?" Bellamy asks, humor clear in his features.

"I'll fight you too."

"Oh, really?" The elder grins as Murphy's eyes challenge him; a staring contest of sorts breaking out.

"You can cut the sexual tension with a knife." Harper stage whispers, the others laughing as the two left their own little world, Bellamy throwing a couch cushion at her head.

The group's smirks only widen, leaving the pair as confused as ever.


Once the credits begin to roll, Murphy goes back to the kitchen to grab more soda, filling all the cups on the coffee table. He yawns slightly and Bellamy, who'd been messing with the DVD player, instinctively goes to pick him up.

"Are you serious?" Murphy tries to give him a flat look, even as a smile threatens to break free as he's situated on his boyfriend's hip.

The delinquents inside their home basically squeal, Clarke ducking her head down to keep her laughter at bay.

"What is with you all today?" Bellamy questions, leaning his head on Murphy's.

The group's silent for a second, until Raven blurts out "We bet on which one of you does the fucking, and which one of you gets fucked." She shrugs, tasteful as always.

Lincoln, a grown ass man, giggles. Actually giggles, so hard that he chokes, soda coming out his nose.

"What?" Bellamy blanches.

Murphy's eyebrow raises, "so, what conclusion did you come to?" He politely ignores Lincoln's shrieks of 'lt burns' in the background, and Octavia falling on her ass, shaking with laughter at his feet.

"The only person who'd actually thought that you'd be the dom was Clarke." Raven answers Murphy, snickering slightly.

"A smart woman admits when she's wrong." The blonde mumbles, opening her wallet as she stares pointedly at the two's stance, Murphy's head tucked away near Bell's collarbone as he laughed.

They didn't say anything, but Murphy smirks at his boyfriend, with eyes holding a promise of later.


The minutes pass too slowly as all the friend's get situated for bed in their living room; the pair waiting to sneak up to their bedroom.

As soon as the door shuts, Murphy pounces on his lover, kissing him hard against the wood before turning him around and pulling him deeper into the room, without breaking the kiss. Once the back of the elder's legs hit the edge of the bed, Murphy pushes him onto it.

The short brunette quickly tears his own shirt off before climbing onto the dark boy, whose hands reach up to grip his boyfriend's hips, Murphy promptly pulling them off. "Do you think you're fucking in charge here?" He asks harshly, sucking a bruise onto the boy's skin.

"No," he gasps as Murphy reaches under the band of his underwear, "You are."

"Damn right," The words each punctuated by a tug of the flesh in his hand. "So start acting like it."

His hand is moving, but not quick enough, the grip frustrating Bellamy more than it relieves him. He aches to move his own hands, firmly secured in one of Murphy's. But he knows better, stopping himself as a sob bubbles up in his throat.

The younger man smiles, looking down at his boyfriend. Tears of desperation run down his cheeks, flushed with blush, thighs quivering in anticipation. "If only they could see you like this, Bell," He whispers into the other man's ear, "All pathetic and needy. Bet they wouldn't even believe it."

He grinds down particularly cruelly onto the other boy, laughing at the high pitched whimper it elicits. "Do you want that? Want me to fuck you so hard the others can hear?"

"Yes-yes please," Bell squeaks, "The neighbors too."

Murphy smirks, giving in much easier than usual, already worked up. "Strip." He orders the man beneath him as he does the same.

Once the task is done, he coaches the lovely, whimpering mess beneath him onto his knees. He's vaguely aware of his pleading as he stares at the back of him; smacking the exposed skin once, twice, before aligning himself with Bellamy, whose body grips Murphy in the perfect way, forcing a groan of his own out of the brunette.

He sets a punishing pace, sweat dripping from both bodies. The bed creaks on the old floorboards as he yanks Bellamy's hair, arching the man's back.

The two haven't been dating for an incredibly long amount of time, but they'd been together long enough for Murphy to know the signs of his boyfriend's orgasm. The normally very vocal man goes quiet, his body clenching even more around Murphy.

Murphy chuckles, quickly squeezing hard at the base of Bellamy's member, preventing him from finishing. He whines, "Murphy please, I need to. P-p-please."

"You're going to wait until I do." He speaks with finality. Bellamy moans, his face landing on the bed as his arms give out. He looks as broken as he does perfect and Murphy gently pushes his shaking legs even further apart in order to go deeper; relishing in the way the freckled man's tears mix with his perspiration.

It must work, because Bell's aching arms reach out frantically to grab at anything to anchor himself, the sheets, his own hair. It isn't long until Murphy's thrusting for the last time, seed spilling into his boyfriend. He sighs, pulling out, kissing sloppily from the tender place where they'd just been joined to the top of the other's spine and back down again as he removed the grip that kept him from finishing; continuing the cycle as he stroked him, mumbling in between wet pecks about how good of a boy Bellamy was until said person tensed up, finally releasing, and even a little after.

He pulls the exhausted boy up to him once he whimpers because of the sensitive flesh, the mess forgotten, and folded him into his arms.

"I love you." Bell whispers against his throat.

"Love you too, babe." Murphy mumbles back, pulling the blankets over them.

There's a beat of silence before he speaks "Can you believe Clarke payed them a hundred dollars, for no reason?"

"Go to bed, Bellamy."

"Seriously, I wish I could've gotten in on the bet."

"I swear to God, Bellamy."

"I'm just saying, I'd like to be included in the gambling next ti-"

"One more word and I won't let you cum for a month, Bellamy."

There's only peaceful silence for the rest of the night.