That's what everyone says about you. [as if he didn't expect a quickfire response. that's one thing she likes, the way they have learnt to give each other shit in the nicest possible way, even friendly if one might stretch it. if one might stretch one's imagination and picture bellamy even having friends.
she struts inside the tent, and lets herself take command of his bed, unscrewing the bottle.] You know, you could take one of the bunks on the ship, no need to camp out in a tent, so why do it?
[ he snorts, derisive without any real derision behind it. they give each other shit without meaning any real harm, knowing full well that the other can take it — and maybe, too, that its easier to talk shit than anything else. ] Yeah, right.
[ he doesn't mind the way she makes herself at home in his tent, not anymore. it might have rubbed him the wrong way, but these days, he's as relaxed around raven as he'll get around anyone. ] Maybe I like having my own space.
[ and that's certainly true, but it's not the entire answer, either. ]
Yeah. Everybody likes that. [everybody over the age of twelve likes that, she doesn't look like she's buying it. and now she wouldn't say that she's the best reader for his actions -- although octavia has sometimes confirmed she's on point -- but she's got a theory about it already. one that comes out quickly, lubricated by the first long swig she takes from monty's hooch.
(this one's for finn. the first drink is always for finn.)] I think you do it because it reminds you of when a bunch of barely-adults looked up to you like you were the shit, and you miss that.
[ bellamy doesn't particularly like being read. raven's good about it, though, he'll give her that. ]
Sure, or that. [ he shrugs, keeping his voice casually. she's pretty close, of course, because he hates the way the adults treat him, all of them like they're children, like they were never sent down here to die, like they haven't achieved the impossible in staying alive as long as they have. ]
[well, that. from what she knows of the story, the two of them are the only two of the 100 not sent down here to die with the original group, as well as the only ones who haven't been kids for a few years now, but she gets it. condescension from kane has a bitter taste, and she scowls at it as often as bellamy does. she gets away with more, because there are exactly two mechanics left among the survivors and one of them is wick, whom she's pretty sure only kane likes for some reason.
she holds out the bottle for him to take.] I'll keep your secret, you're safe.
[ he takes the bottle from her with a nod that could be a nod of thanks if he were charitable, or if someone knows to read him well. condescension from anyone has a bitter taste; condescension from those in power just feels like a return to the old ways, to the way things were on the ark. the lower classes were treated like scum instead of people.
bellamy was a janitor, his mother a seamstress and occasional prostitute, his sister never should have existed in the eyes of those in power. to go back to be seen like that after he's been a leader, after he's learned what it means to try and do better —
yeah, it's bitter all right.
so he takes a long swallow of the drink. ]
Safe, right. [ there's not much safety here, but he doesn't mind that so much. maybe bellamy has always had war in his blood. ]
[she settles back on her elbows and watches him, the dulled feeling in her left hip exaggerated by the first swing of monty's moonshine. the guy knows his way around a distillery, holy damn.]
Come on, Blake. Have I ever not been safe for you? Aside from that time when I almost shoved a knife in your chest, I mean.
Safe isn't exactly what comes to mind when I look at you, Reyes.
[ the reply comes quick and honest, with raised eyebrows like it isn't some fucking compliment because she's not safe and boring, she's excitement, bombs and gunpowder, and for a guy like bellamy with war in his blood, well.
Drowning them seems like a good idea. [that's a nice throat you got there, bellamy. she said, no romo interest beneath it. her fingers itch for another go at that bottle, but she's sharing. being nice.
to bellamy.
it makes her snort.] This is weird, right? Considering first impressions.
Haven't you noticed, Reyes? First impressions don't count down here.
[ he swallows some more of it, in case she wants to admire his throat a little more, and only then hands the bottle back to raven.
first impressions don't count, or else clarke and bellamy should still hate each other, and raven and bellamy should still hate each other. they'd still be at war with the grounders.
he's not sad that first impressions don't always last. ]
To infinity. [then again, someone's got a reasonable grudge. murphy hasn't almost fallen off a cliff just to save her from falling, there's no budding bromance there, obstaculized by him being a dick. on rainy days when her hip joint aches like a bitch, she'd probably pull him off the cliff with her, so. reasonable, functional grudge.]
God, I'll tell you what's not a regret. [so call her selfish, but she'll take a second drink out of the bottle before passing it over. the woozy fuzzy feeling spreads, makes her smile easier.] Jumping on that. [waves at below the bellamy waist.]
[ murphy is a dick — vengeful and self-serving — but occasionally, he is useful and surprisingly trustworthy and, well. bellamy's been called a total ass more than once.
she's sure someone's called him a dick, too, behind his back.
but raven's words (and gesture) (and smile) make all thoughts of murphy disappear pretty quickly. ] Sure hope not.
[Yep, there it is, that cocksure attitude that always makes raven want to knock him down a peg. or two. her good leg gets used to kick lightly at his knee.]
You were that sure, huh? Weird, because I remember saying it hadn't helped.
[she sucks on her teeth there, for a moment, wondering if it's worth going down this path with him. it could lead to bruises to his ego. the answer is yes.]
You got complaints? [ because bellamy doesn't, but beneath the cockiness there's a hint of genuine — worry? not quite, but close enough. it'd be not just a blow to his masculinity, he honestly wants sex to be good for his partners, too. ]
[that sure puts a wrench in her plans (ha); the surprise, faint, at noticing the hint of genuine concern on his expression. the bigger surprise, over the fact that she noticed anything at all. how many people can read bellamy blake, really? how many call themselves his friends?
she gives him a mellow smile, thin-lipped but not unkind.] Nah, I'm just being contrary. I'm sure it was good.
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Boom.
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of course, he's hardly going to say that, so: ] Took you long enough.
i decided this is far distant future au where everyone's been rescued from mt weather
she struts inside the tent, and lets herself take command of his bed, unscrewing the bottle.] You know, you could take one of the bunks on the ship, no need to camp out in a tent, so why do it?
yes good
[ he doesn't mind the way she makes herself at home in his tent, not anymore. it might have rubbed him the wrong way, but these days, he's as relaxed around raven as he'll get around anyone. ] Maybe I like having my own space.
[ and that's certainly true, but it's not the entire answer, either. ]
ugh love already
(this one's for finn. the first drink is always for finn.)] I think you do it because it reminds you of when a bunch of barely-adults looked up to you like you were the shit, and you miss that.
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Sure, or that. [ he shrugs, keeping his voice casually. she's pretty close, of course, because he hates the way the adults treat him, all of them like they're children, like they were never sent down here to die, like they haven't achieved the impossible in staying alive as long as they have. ]
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she holds out the bottle for him to take.] I'll keep your secret, you're safe.
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bellamy was a janitor, his mother a seamstress and occasional prostitute, his sister never should have existed in the eyes of those in power. to go back to be seen like that after he's been a leader, after he's learned what it means to try and do better —
yeah, it's bitter all right.
so he takes a long swallow of the drink. ]
Safe, right. [ there's not much safety here, but he doesn't mind that so much. maybe bellamy has always had war in his blood. ]
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Come on, Blake. Have I ever not been safe for you? Aside from that time when I almost shoved a knife in your chest, I mean.
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[ the reply comes quick and honest, with raised eyebrows like it isn't some fucking compliment because she's not safe and boring, she's excitement, bombs and gunpowder, and for a guy like bellamy with war in his blood, well.
that's better than safe. ]
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Yeah? What does, then?
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[ fishing for compliments doesn't suit you, raven, he doesn't say. ]
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Catch up, I've got a lot of regrets to drink to.
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[ like he'd mind it, exactly. well, maybe he would, but not as much as he'd pretend to. ] Just drown them.
[ as if setting an example, not that she needs it, he takes a generous swig of the bottle, throat working. ]
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to bellamy.
it makes her snort.] This is weird, right? Considering first impressions.
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[ he swallows some more of it, in case she wants to admire his throat a little more, and only then hands the bottle back to raven.
first impressions don't count, or else clarke and bellamy should still hate each other, and raven and bellamy should still hate each other. they'd still be at war with the grounders.
he's not sad that first impressions don't always last. ]
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Murphy's still a dick.
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[ he laughs a little, even though it isn't particularly funny. murphy's a dick, the sky is blue, water is wet. ]
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God, I'll tell you what's not a regret. [so call her selfish, but she'll take a second drink out of the bottle before passing it over. the woozy fuzzy feeling spreads, makes her smile easier.] Jumping on that. [waves at below the bellamy waist.]
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she's sure someone's called him a dick, too, behind his back.
but raven's words (and gesture) (and smile) make all thoughts of murphy disappear pretty quickly. ] Sure hope not.
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You were that sure, huh? Weird, because I remember saying it hadn't helped.
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[ he takes the kick good-naturedly, meaning he refrains from kicking her back. he'll just keep grinning at her. ]
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Wasn't it, though?
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she gives him a mellow smile, thin-lipped but not unkind.] Nah, I'm just being contrary. I'm sure it was good.
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