Clarke isn't sure the dust will ever settle for life on the ground. The piercing scent of burning rubble hangs thick in the air as the orange glow finally begins to fade, swallowed up by the blackness of night.

After hours of treating inhalation injuries and burns, the stream of patients has finally trickled down to a halt. The makeshift med-bay is completely full of recovering patients, but by some miracle, none of them are in critical condition.

Harper gives Clarke a tired smile as she makes her way over. "I think we've got this covered, Clarke, if you need to go take care of other things."

Clarke squeezes her shoulder with a grateful nod, "Thank you, Harper."

She takes one more glance around and spots Bellamy on the far side of the room, speaking in hushed tones with Miller. As if he can sense her gaze on him, he meets her eyes with a barely perceptible nod. She fights the urge to squirm under a stare so intense it feels like it's physically holding her in place.

With one look, she's transported back to the quarry. She swallows back a bolt of nausea at the vivid memory of the wind being knocked out of her as the bag was pulled off Bellamy's head. She reminds herself that he's safe. He's here. He's still with her. He wraps up his conversation with Miller and makes his way back to her with steady strides that contrast the erratic rhythm of her heart, not once taking his eyes off her.

"I think Kane wants to see us," He says when he reaches her side.

She nods, "Let's go."

Clarke feels a warmth bubble up in her at the sight of Niylah, wrapped protectively around Octavia while they sleep. Bellamy cracks his own fond smile as he follows Clarke out of the med bay in search of Kane. They round back to what's left of the council chambers to find Kane slumped forward on the table, face buried in the crook of his elbow, breaths deep and even. He's asleep. Bellamy tilts his head toward the door and they leave the council room quietly.

"Let him sleep. He could use the rest." Clarke says.

Bellamy nods in agreement, "So could you."

She huffs, "And so could you."

He considers that for a moment, then nods. "Follow me."

It's eerily quiet as they make their way around the remaining structures of Arkadia. Groups of people are tucked into various corners throughout the settlement, huddled together protectively in slumber. Bellamy holds a finger to his lips and tilts his head over his shoulder. She follows him to the outskirts of the commune until they reach a small unmarked building.

"What is this?" She whispers, even though there's no one around to be disturbed this far away from Arkadia's center.

"Rest." He answers as he enters a combination into the lock and disengages the bolt so he can open the door just wide enough for the two of them to slip in.

She stops in her tracks at the sight that greets her. The space is empty, former food and supply stores moved to the inside of the ship, now probably up in flames with the rest of it. There's a table in the middle, and a single-person cot lined up on one wall. She recognizes the sparse belongings on a shelf as Bellamy's personal effects. Is this where he's been living the past few weeks?

"You weren't sleeping inside, Bellamy?"

"Technically this is inside." At her exasperated look, he amends, "I only use it sometimes… For quick naps during the day, when I'm able to grab a few minutes."

She frowns, "What about your quarters?"

"Tim and his partner looked like they could use the space better than I could." He shrugs, "It's not like I've spent much time sleeping there anyway."

Clarke nods, "Oh." She's acutely aware that most nights, he falls asleep in her quarters. They're practically in each other's pockets now, and maybe that's why the last few days without him have left her feeling so profoundly imbalanced.

Bellamy sets his pack in the middle of the table and pulls out a few provisions, water bottles, and some sort of cured meat, then slides onto the table himself. He looks younger like this, holster empty and dangling from the corner of the table. His T-shirt is wrinkled where he's untucked it from his pants, using the corner to wipe his fingers clean.

Clarke unbuckles her own holster, then sheds her jacket, placing both on an empty shelf by the wall, then comes back to the table. She leans against it while she eats the strip of jerky Bellamy gives her. The moment it touches her tongue, her cheeks ache and her mouth waters. She suddenly realizes she's been starving all day.

Bellamy chuckles at her satiated groan. "Hungry?"

Clarke swallows, "God, yes. I just didn't really… realize it until now."

He hums in understanding while he tears another piece off and hands it to her. She smiles with a thank you and they both finish their food in companionable silence, far too focused on actually eating to concern themselves with making conversation.

"You should get some rest, Clarke."

She nods, "You're right." She bends over to unfasten her boots. As she pulls them off, her palm stretches flat, causing the skin to pull at the fresh scab from today's agreement with Roan. She forgets to contain her hiss, then momentarily attempts to maintain a casual cover, but it's no use, as Bellamy catches onto it immediately.

"What happened to your hand?" He beckons her closer, until she's standing between his parted knees.

Clarke's lip twitches at the corner. "Blood oath with Roan… A vow, that skaikru and Azgeda will be allies… That we'll share the ship when the time comes, if it comes to that…" She deflates, correcting herself "Would have shared it…"

Bellamy shakes his head while he examines her, "You're lucky you didn't cut deeper. You could've done actual damage to your hand, slicing your palm like this." He chooses not to address the topic of Alpha Station, and Clarke finds she's relieved for it.

She smirks, "Bellamy, I'm aware … I was careful. I nicked it only enough to bleed." A blood oath is not as glamorous if one carelessly slices through the numerous vessels and nerves that crisscross underneath the surface of the palm. It would be downright embarrassing if the act rendered the participants permanently unable to participate in combat.

He keeps a soft but steady hold on her arm, thumb brushing the inside of her wrist slowly, so lightly she almost doesn't feel it. At the same time, it might as well be burning a hole in her skin for all she can ignore it.

Clarke cups the side of his face with her free hand. His eyelids flutter shut when her thumb brushes over his scarred cheekbone, and she finds herself entranced by the dark lashes that brush over his skin.

"Clarke." His voice is choked and leaves her feeling a little shaken.

"I thought I almost lost you, today." She swallows past a lump in her throat while her eyes trail over the rest of him.

Bellamy gently wraps his hand around her forearm and slides it down slowly until he engulfs the back of her hand with his palm, "I'm still here." His breath tickles her forearm and warmth radiates from every place his skin touches hers. It feels like heaven in the palm of her hand.

She nods, "We're still here." The air between them becomes magnetic, and she feels helpless to resist the invisible pull. She quite suddenly sees the full picture of something she's not allowed herself to entertain before now. Bellamy, drinking her in like she's the oasis in his desert. She searches his eyes for some sort of reason not to do this. Looks for a 'no' or 'please don't' but finds nothing but want. And it feels right. Despite the entire world going to shit around them in bigger ways every day… This? This might be the one right thing they can do.

Closing the distance between them is both the easiest and hardest thing she's ever done. It's just a barely-there brush of the lips. He remains still for a few alarming moments before he his fingers squeeze over her wrist and he presses his lips back to hers, then relief practically shudders through her.

It's tentative. Experimental, but not at all awkward. Just… god, he's so careful it hurts.

On some level, she wonders if maybe he doesn't believe he deserves this. Happiness. Connection. For holding onto so much hope, he carries so much self-loathing. She pulls back just a bit so she can look at him, and he looks uncharacteristically uncertain. Like maybe he's not convinced this is okay. He searches her eyes with near-startling earnestness and a gentle smile settles over her cheeks at him before she rests her forehead against his. His hands drop to her waist, thumbs rubbing circles against the skin of her abdomen.

"We can have this." She strokes his cheek to emphasize, "You can have this, Bellamy."

Her heart lurches at the sound that pulls from deep in his chest, and then all at once, he's kissing her. Really kissing her, in a way that leaves her feeling like the breath is being stolen from her lungs. His hands move, one splayed across her lower back, pulling her a little closer to him, the other curling around the back of her neck. His thumb plays at the angle of her jaw and she opens her mouth under his, deepening the kiss and spiking goosebumps up and down her body.

Suddenly, he breaks away and comes off the table, standing up and towering over her at his full height, and the difference is thrilling. He kisses her again, deeply, while he turns them around so that her back is at the table, crowding her against it.

Clarke is intensely aware of every place their bodies press together, and how she wishes for their clothes to be gone already. With that in mind, she breaks the kiss and leans back. She watches his eyes darken when she grasps the hem of her shirt and peels it off, leaving her in just her threadbare ark-issued bra on top.

Bellamy sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of her, "Fuck, Clarke. Just…" His hungry gaze stirs even more rousing thoughts in her mind. Her hands find their way to his T-shirt, slipping underneath the hem so her fingernails can scrape against his abdomen, just barely grazing his happy trail. She flattens her palms against his skin and slides them up to his chest, his T-shirt bunching up on the crook of her elbows. She peels it the rest of the way off, letting it fall to the floor at their feet.

He catches one of her hands in his own. "Clarke, if we do this…" He trails off, looking at her like he's unsure of how much he's allowed to ask of her. She doesn't know how else to convince him that she would give him everything.

She caresses her free hand along his shoulder and prompts him to finish, "We do this…" She tamps down a sense of dread, that he might demand this be a one-time thing, or inexplicably put the brakes on it entirely.

His eyes are pleading, "I don't want to go around tomorrow pretending like it never happened." God, if only he knew how steadfastly in this she is.

She smiles with open relief, "No going back."

He kisses her again with overwhelming fervor, sweeping her up and lifting her onto the table. She wastes no time hooking her legs around his waist, drawing him close to her. Her hands fly to his belt, unfastening it quickly and unzipping his pants. But before she manages to get her hands on his cock, he attaches his mouth to her neck, and oh god…

Clarke has thought a lot about Bellamy's mouth. Sure, there were the early days when she wanted nothing more than for him to just shut it and get out of her way. But that soon gave way to more friendly banter, which all too quickly lent itself to more distracting thoughts about her partner… Now that she's felt his lips suckling and tongue laving on the sensitive column of her neck, she thinks she'll be hard pressed to come up with a better use for them.

"Bellamy-" She pants, letting her head fall uselessly to the side, offering more of her neck to him.

He hums against her skin while he teases a line of kisses down to her collarbone. She feels the sound through her hands where they touch his chest while it reverberates from his mouth all through to the rest of her. He curls a finger under her bra strap and pulls it down her arm, then drags his lips in an uninterrupted line from her shoulder back up to her ear while he slides the other strap down. His thumb touches on her collarbone, tapping a patient rhythm while he looks at her, like he's deciding what to do next. It's baffling how he appears so composed while she feels like she's going to burst into a mess of emotions.

She's had enough of his restraint.

She reaches behind to unclasp her bra and her breasts practically spring free while the garment falls from her chest. His jaw goes slack for a moment, then like autopilot, he dives down with a groan, and that's the reaction she's aiming for. He cups her breasts in his large palms, and she tries not to overthink just how perfectly they seem to fit in his hands. His mouth teases her. His tongue laves hot and wet over her nipple to coax it into a hardened peak, and god, it feels so fucking perfect.

"Oh, fuck…" Clarke leans back on one hand, tangles the other one into his thick hair.

"Clarke," his voice is hoarse, "Can I touch you?"

She nods fervidly, "Yes, fuck… Please…" and lets go of his hair so he can work on her pants. She lies back on the table, but shrieks at the frigid temperature of the metal surface, immediately jolting back upright again.

Bellamy recoils, eyes wide with alarm. "You okay?"

Clarke laughs, "Yeah, but the table's cold."

He gives her a lopsided smile, "Bed?"

"That seems like a better option, yeah."

It's a flurry of motion and she finds herself on the cot, sprawled out on her back, while Bellamy unzips her pants with teasing slowness. She lifts her hips to help him while he tugs them down, taking her underwear with them.

She's left completely naked before him, and her skin starts to prickle under his gaze.

"Come here," She pleads, reaching up to him as he leans down to kiss her, deep and slow, languidly licking into her mouth. He props himself up on his forearm while his free hand dances a scorching trail over her skin on its way to her center. He teases her at her upper thighs a bit, coaxing her legs open for him. She cants her hips up toward his hand when he drags his fingers over her mons.

Bellamy chuckles, "Eager?" The glint in his eye sends a jolt of lust through her.

"Bellamy, please…." Her legs fall fully open and she ruts her hips a little more. Finally, his fingers slip into her folds, pulling a needy mewl from her while she runs her hands over his shoulders. He gathers her arousal with his fingers, pooled at the bottom of her slit. By the time he traces over her aching clit she feels like she's ready to explode. "Oh my god, right there-"

"Yeah?" He smiles and kisses her again, then trails his lips to her jaw.

His finger edges around her slit and she nods, "Please… in me." He sinks it into her cunt, slowly and teasingly. Her breathing picks up because fuck, this feels so good. "Another, Bell." She begs, her voice more of a gasp. He gives it to her. He presses his open mouth to the middle of her neck, just above the hollow of her throat, while he sinks another finger into her cunt. Her skin vibrates against his lips with her broken moan. His thumb falls onto her clit, rubbing it in nimble circles while he fucks her in earnest with two, then three thick fingers.

He coaxes her on with sweet encouragements on the sweat-slick skin of her neck, "Come on, let go for me… Just feel it, Clarke." And soon, she does… that rippling pleasure stirring deep inside. She tells him she's close with stuttered moans, and cries out when his teeth scrape over her skin, his thumb working her over, sending her to the edge faster than she thought possible.

"Bellamy!" She cries out and goes rigid with orgasm, pulses of bliss surging through her body.

"That's right," He coos against her ear, hissing at the harsh dig of her fingernails into his shoulder, watching her pleasure with undeniable fondness in his eyes.

As she comes back around, he catches her lips with his own, nibbles her a little with his teeth, and does his best to just lose himself in her. Her happy little moans and whimpers look like they set his blood alight and he returns them with wrecked-sounding groans of his own and jesus…

"Bellamy," she breathes. "Bellamy, come on." She pushes his pants down over his ass, hooking her toes into the waistband to help push them the rest of the way. She smiles as she strokes his cock, warm and hard in her hand. "Come on, I need you in me."

He gives her this delirious smile that makes her heart feel like it might burst out of her chest and presses a quick kiss to her mouth while she guides him to her center.

"Wanna be inside you, Clarke…" His nose nuzzles with hers while he slides his cock between her folds, coating himself in her wetness. It's clumsy - she's a little shaky and they're both a little eager, but it's perfect and sweet then he's there. The head of his cock stretches her opening where it's pressed just inside, but he doesn't push in, yet. Not until she nods, tangling fingers in his hair.

She's so wet after her first orgasm, he meets no real resistance, just the snug fit of her walls around him. She hisses because it's a stretch – it's been a few months, and she's not quite ready for his girth. But then he kisses her, swallows her aches with his lips and soon he's bottomed out inside.

She lets her head fall back into the pillow under her. "Oh, fuck. You feel-" She can't find the words to describe how perfect he feels inside her, heavy and thick and stretching her just right.

He huffs, shifts his weight a bit, and she feels the movement inside her, through her whole body. "Yeah, Princess. You, too… so good."

And then he moves. It takes a bit to find their rhythm - the cot is tiny and its frame protests their weight with squeaks that only get louder as they meet each other's motions. But it feels good (so good) and it's not long before the errant noises are forgotten entirely. Suddenly, and too soon, they're on the precipice of climax. Clarke rolls her hips up, trying to speed him along, quicken their rhythm, because she's so close and almost there. Instead, he stops.

"Clarke. Slow down." Bellamy gives her a gentle smile, "We've got time." He's right, and who knows if they'll get another stretch of uninterrupted time like this. She nods, because she wants to make it count, too. She doesn't want it to be over so quick. He holds her hand in his and stretches her arm above her head, like maybe he can stretch time with it.

So they go a little slower, take a little longer to wind each other back up, and it's everything Clarke needs. He's everything she needs. He hikes her leg a little higher on his back changing the angle, and his cock drags inside her even better than before. The world feels bright and warm and for a moment, she's forgotten about how everything on this planet is trying to kill them. The only thing that exists is Bellamy, all she feels is him inside, above, around her, driving into her in every right way, hitting all her best places.

She comes before he does, toes curled, back arched and gasping with bliss while he surges into her, holding himself inside while she ripples down on his cock.

"Fuck, that's so good, Clarke… So good." He tells her while she's catching her breath, dropping sweet kisses over her face. "Feels so good." She nods, a blissed-out smile dancing on her own lips, because yeah, it feels fucking incredible. Her walls clench erratically around him with aftershocks, each one making him flinch above her a bit. She loves it.

"I wanna feel you come inside me, Bellamy." She coaxes, hands on each side of his face while he fucks into her with renewed vigor. "Come for me, okay?"

He groans something like fuck yeah, slants his mouth over hers and kisses her so filthy it leaves her lightheaded. She keeps urging him on with filthy encouragements about how good he feels inside her, how she knows when he comes, it's gonna be so deep inside her body.

Clarke will never forget the expression of bliss on Bellamy's face when he comes. She commits it to memory with the sensation of his cock twitching against her walls as he spills inside her with jerky thrusts of his hips. It's fucking perfect and she almost can't believe she got to see him like this. Finally, he just collapses into her. She strokes his hair with his face buried against her neck, breath harsh and heavy against her skin.

"Fuck…" His voice is muffled in her hair.

She laughs, "Yeah…" feeling a little giddy.

In the morning, they'll have to go back to taking care of everyone else, but for now, they can have this. Wrapped up in each other, tangled together in more ways than one.

He rolls off to her side, then she turns so her back is to his chest. Bellamy is suddenly quiet, so she looks over her shoulder to check on him. His gaze is transfixed on the claw-shaped scar on the back of her shoulder. She had almost forgotten about her scuffle with the panther.

His fingers hover above it, not touching. "Does it hurt?"

Clarke shakes her head, "Not anymore." She adds, "You can touch it, if you want."

His fingers brush, almost reverently, over the raw nerve endings of newly-healed tissue, sending shivers through the rest of her body. Her eyes slam shut as his lips follow the same path, his breath tickling her skin.

It threatens to get her going again – his mouth on her skin. It's unfair how quickly he can get her keyed-up and needy. Before it gets too far, he stops. He presses one last gentle kiss to the scar on her shoulder before wrapping his arms around her front and holding her close.

Bellamy brushes her lips over her temple, murmuring "Get some rest, Clarke."

Her eyes flutter shut and she lets her body melt back into his.

She can't help it. Despite everything, she's happy. Because even though Earth is trying to end them, it still let her have this.

Author's Note

Comments/Reviews are the best, guys! Just a few words to tell your author what you thought does wonders for motivation and creative fuel :)

For those of you waiting for the next chapter of You Take My Soul - I apologize for the unannounced hiatus - there were computer issues that ended up with a loss of chapters, but that's resolved now and the next chapter is being polished, so we'll return to our regularly-scheduled programming soon!

Thank you so much for reading! -MM