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Clarke knew it had been abnormally hot out lately. She knew that Monty had distributed extra rations of his homemade sunscreen and that her mother had given endless lectures on the importance of staying hydrated. She also knew the older guards were taking on more day shifts, to give the younger kids a respite from the oppressive, draining heat.
What Clarke didn’t know is that Bellamy, as usual, paid better attention to the wellbeing of those around him than to his own. So, when she stopped by for a casual chat at his post around lunch, and he fainted right onto her, she was taken by surprise and didn’t manage to catch him in time. The momentum brought them both to the ground, his flushed skin searing hers as they connected. Grasping his rapidly paling face in her hands, she brushed her thumbs over his dry, dehydrated lips before calling out for help to get him to the medbay.
After Miller and Monroe had lugged her stupid forgetful reckless co-leader into a cot, Clarke took his pulse, sighing when she detected his steady beat in all its familiarity. Right away she set to work pressing cool, wet cloths against his skin and splashing water into his hair. She ran her fingers through the soaked curls, heat spiraling off his head and warming her fingers, causing her to shiver at the sensation.
As she continued to sponge his forehead, her hand still tangled absently in his hair, she felt Bellamy stir and sighed in relief. Pulling away with some reluctance, Clarke retrieved a ready cup of water and had it waiting at his lips when he opened his eyes. With a confused look, Bellamy opened his mouth to speak.
“Drink,” she insisted, tapping the metal rim of the cup against his cracked lips.
With an exasperated roll of the eyes, he craned his head up weakly so she could give him some water. His body immediately relaxed as she did so, and Clarke bit back a satisfied smile. When he had had his fill, she got up to get more, because her stubborn partner clearly needed it, no matter how much he hated being fussed over.
By the time she turned back to the cot, Bellamy was upright, shifting to lean against the wall behind him. Handing him the cup with a fond shake of her head, Clarke teased, “You fainted straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”
Laughing roughly, he replied, “You’re so busy, how else did you suggest I grab a minute with you?”
“And apparently you are too busy to hydrate properly,” Clarke admonished. At her frown, he chuckled again, and she punched him lightly on the shoulder, because heat exhaustion was no joke. “Seriously, Bell,” she added in a quiet, concerned voice. “Don’t do that again. This heat can be really dangerous, and you can’t afford to blow off taking care of yourself. We need you too much.”
Sobering, Bellamy reached out to grab her hand. “I’m sorry,” he responded, rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand, the gentle motion sending warm shocks up her arm.
She shook her head at him again, a small smile creeping onto her face. “You do such a good job taking care of everybody else. Just remember to do the same for yourself.”
“Isn’t that what I have you for?” He asked, grinning and squeezing her hand.
“You love making more work for me, don’t you?” She teased back, laughing at his mischievous expression.
“That, and I really like the feeling of you running your fingers through my hair.”
Clarke froze, because he was not supposed to have noticed that, and suddenly Bellamy broke out into loud laughter.
“I don’t mind,” he added, tugging on her hand to draw her closer. “In fact, I’d like you to do it more often. And I’d return the favor, of course.”
With that pleased grin still on his face, Bellamy leaned in and gently pulled on a loose strand of her hair dangling near her blushing cheek. Then, slowly, he worked his fingers further into the strands, reaching around to cup the back of her head. Her throat caught at the sensation, her cheeks flaring in anticipation. Puling her into him, Bellamy kissed her, lips brushing against hers with purposeful desire. Heat coursed through Clarke, and she sighed into his mouth. Chuckling, he deepened the kiss until her head spun and she could barely restrain herself from scrambling onto the cot to straddle him.
When he finally pulled away, Clarke blinked away the pleasurable haze, narrowing her eyes at her frisky patient.
“Hot enough for you?” he whispered, laughter dancing in his eyes and low voice.
“Not funny,” she muttered back at him before pressing another heated kiss to his lips.