Chapter 30 - Shower Times

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Warning: EXTREMELY CUTE MURPHAMY MOMENTS

Bellamy's POV

I sit on the floor with Octavia and Murphy, pictures of flowers and tuxes and lists of cake bakers, florists, caterers, and several other things that I hadn't even thought of. Octavia was serious when she said that she wanted to help.

"What do you think about this one? Or this one?" She asks, holding up two pictures of blue and white flowers. Murphy lazily looks at both of them, considering each options for a moment.

"The white ones are cooler." he says plainly, turning back to the guest list he was working on. "Bell, is there anyone else you wanted to invite?" I go through the mental guest list in my head, making sure I have all the essential people like everyone in my family and all of Murphy's friends and very few remaining family.

"I think that's everyone." I respond, flipping through the list of things that we had settled on, which so far as has been the date (February 21st, the day we had first gotten together.) and the color scheme (white and pale blue). The wedding is currently four months away and I am both nervous and excited for it to come.

"Octavia, I think we should let mom help us with this." I say to Octavia, who was furiously scrolling through ratings for wedding cake makers. She shrugs.

"Fine. Mom!" She shouts. Soon, Aurora is sitting on the couch next to her with the computer on her lap. And let me just say, having someone who's done this before makes the process a whole lot easier. After a few more hours, we had almost everything else sorted out or narrowed down to a few choices.

"Thank you so much mom. You made this so much easier." I tell her, kissing the side of her head and hugging her. She smiles and hugs back.

"You're welcome, baby. I'm so happy for you two." She replies, ruffling my curly hair and turning to hug Murphy. He hugs her tightly, kissing the top of her head. I smile at the sight of Murphy getting along so well with my family. We pick up our things, gathering up the lists and numbers of people we needed to call to arrange the wedding. We say our goodbyes and head out to the car, setting all the stuff in the backseat. Murphy gets in the passenger seat and I get in the driver's, starting the car and pulling out of the driveway. We sit in silence for a few minutes before Murphy says something.

"I love you so damn much, you know that right?" He says, looking over at me. I glance over at him before returning my gaze to the road.

"Of course. I love you too." I respond, putting one hand on his knee and squeezing it reassuringly.

"I love you a lot. More than anything I've ever loved. More than life itself." He continues, putting his hand on top of mine. I look over at him for a little longer than before.

"Thank you, John. I love you so much. But where's all this coming from?" I ask, suddenly a little concern as to why he's admitting all this to me. He hesitates for a second.

"I don't know. I-I guess that since we're getting married now I needed to let you know." I smile to myself. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him blush. I slide my hand further up his thigh and his breath hitches.

"I love you more than you could imagine." I coo, grabbing his hand and bringing it to my face, kissing it gently. I have never seen Murphy blush so hard.

***

Murphy and I are curled up on the couch, his head leaning against my shoulder and my arm wrapped around his shoulders. His legs were thrown over my lap, so I rest my other hand across his legs. A movie played quietly on the TV and I could feel Murphy's steady breath on my neck. Occasionally, I feel him press feather-light kisses to my neck or jaw. It wasn't needy or wanting like they normally were. They were loving and sweet. Usually when he kisses my neck, it's because he wants something. But tonight, it was all about love. I guess that's what happens when you're going to marry someone. It becomes all about love.

"Murphy?" I quietly say, looking down at him.

"Hmm?" He hums, his eyes closed and his face nuzzled into my chest.

"I love you." I respond, kissing his forehead. He smiles lazily.

"Love you too." He whispers back sleepily, cuddling up closer to me. I hold him close, enjoying the feeling of him being close. I could so do this every day for the rest of my life.

***

The next morning, Murphy and I lay on the couch for a few minutes, just looking into each other's eyes. We both sat cross-legged on the couch, facing each other, admiring each others features. John leans forward, kissing the tip of my nose. When he sits back, I return the gesture, he nose scrunching up at the contact. I smile and he smiles back.

"Wanna go take a shower?" Murphy offers, leaning forward. I smirk.

"Sure. If it means I can wash that mangy hair of yours." I tease, running my hair through his long, slightly greasy hair. He rolls his eyes.

"Only if I can wash your body for you." He smirks back. I nod my head.

"Deal." I confirm. We both stand up, rushing up to our bedroom and grabbing some comfy clothes, then making our way to the bathroom. I turn the water on and we undress each other. Usually this would be sexual, but this time it wasn't. It was fun and silly. We step into the shower, wetting our hair and bodies. I grab the shampoo, pouring some out into my hands. I turn to John.

"Turn around." I instruct, lathering up my hands with the soap. He does as I say, turning his back to me. I run my hands through his hair, scrubbing and scratching at his scalp. His head rolls back and forth and he lets out a little moan of pleasure. I smirk at the noise. "I told you that you would like it." I say, rubbing the soap into his hair.

"Whatever, Blake. Not my fault it feels damn good when you touch me." He quickly responds. I chuckle and kiss his shoulder, causing him to shiver.

"Guess I'll have to touch you more often."

Once I get done washing his hair, he rinses it out and I watch the soap circle down the drain. Murphy straightens up, facing me and grabs the soap from out of the basket.

"My turn." He says, squirting some out into his hand and rubbing his hands together, creating bubbles.

"Go ahead." I smile. He rubs the soap over my shoulders, scrubbing down my arms and chest. I let out a small noise of pleasure, enjoying the feeling of John rubbing me down with the water hitting my skin.

"Guess I'm not the only one who enjoys being touched." He smirks, running his soapy hands down my chest.

"Guess you'll have to touch me more often."

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