Bellamy laughs breathily and Clarke bites her lip, grinning as he tosses her leggings and underwear on the bed and grabs her gown. Clarke takes it from him and puts it on, shivering a little when his fingers brush against her back as he knots the gown. She closes her eyes for a long moment and takes a deep breath, willing herself to settle down. Maya wants to check her cervix, which means she’s going to know Clarke is a little wet, but there’s nothing Clarke can do about that now. Truth be told, at this point in her pregnancy, all Bellamy has to do is touch her hand and she gets a little wet.
Maya is probably used to that, as a midwife. Clarke hopes.
She crosses the room to knock on the door, letting Maya know she’s ready, and Bellamy retreats to the rocking chair in the corner. His neck is red, and the tips of his ears, and it’s so obvious they were being inappropriate while she was supposed to be getting changed.
But all Maya says is, “Great!” in her soft, musical voice. She retrieves a tape measure and stands in front of Clarke, smiling. “I’m going to measure you standing up, then I’m going to take a look at your cervix with you on the bed, okay?”
“Okay,” Clarke says. She smiles at Maya and lifts her arms so Maya can wrap the tape measure around her belly. She measures a few different places, including Clarke’s bust — “I’m still wearing my sports bra, sorry,” Clarke says, to which Maya just shakes her head and makes another note on her legal pad — and then sets her tools down.
“You look great,” Maya says, encouraging. “Now, for the cervix examination, I need you to lie on the exam table with your hips as close to the edge as you can get them without losing your balance. I’ll need you to spread your legs for me, as well.”
Clarke sits on the exam table, not looking at Bellamy because she knows she’s going to think about the times he’s eaten her out with her hips on the edge of their mattress, his big hands pressing her thighs apart to give himself plenty of access. She lays back and scoots down until her ass partially hangs off the bed.
Maya puts on a pair of rubber gloves and stands at Clarke’s feet, giving her another encouraging smile. “I’m going to spread your labia so that I can check out your cervix, just with a finger. No cold duck lips, okay?”
Clarke laughs. “Sounds good,” she says, nodding, as Maya pulls up her stool. Clarke spreads her legs, trying not to clam up or wince in anticipation of the tool Maya isn’t using. She’s gotten so used to these exams since she was in high school that her body is conditioned to hate them, but Maya’s hands are gentle and she talks as she works, keeping Clarke informed of what she’s doing.
Clarke looks over at Bellamy, catching her bottom lip between her teeth, and arches her eyebrows at him. She’s never had someone else in the room with her during one of these; not even her mom, when she was younger. It’s a little surreal, especially given the warmth she can still feel swimming around in her gut.
“Alright, you can sit up,” Maya says, and Clarke does her best to wriggle back up the bed. “Next we’ll check on the baby — do you want to get dressed first?”
“Please,” Clarke says. She sits up and gets a glimpse of Maya’s gloves, which are definitely more coated than they should be, and it makes her cheeks burn hot.
Maya gives her a nod, disposing of the gloves in a waste bin and washing her hands. “I’ll be in my office,” she says, as gentle as ever. “Just knock when you’re ready, like before.” Then she disappears, closing the door behind her, and Clarke blows out a breath.
“Note to self: don’t bring your hot fiancé to cervical exams,” she says, meeting Bellamy’s eyes. She laughs and holds her hand out, kicking her feet. “Bring me my clothes, please.”
Bellamy actively tries not to watch Maya give Clarke her pelvic exam. He’s used to watching people see naked or mostly naked Clarke, but even here – at a midwife appointment because she’s having their baby – he’s struck with a profound rush of hot, powerful possessiveness he doesn’t know what to do with.
The feeling burns through him like hot oil and desire rolled together.
He keeps his eyes on Clarke’s face, letting the gown that falls between her spread knees act as a curtain and doesn’t listen as Maya talks.
It’s a quick exam, honestly and Maya’s throwing her gloves into the trash before Bellamy can even decide if he’s justified in his bout of possessiveness – probably not. She leaves Clarke and Bellamy, so Clarke can change again.
There’s a beat when the door clicks shut and Clarke meets Bellamy’s eyes, her mouth caught in a half-smirk. “Note to self: don’t bring your hot fiancé to cervical exams,” she says, a little low.
Bellamy whets his lips. “Probably not the best idea,” he says, a little throaty.
Clarke laughs, kicking her feet a little. “Bring me my clothes, please,” she says, bright and holding her hand out to make grabby motions.
Bellamy rolls his eyes but hands Clarke her clothes anyway. “Yes, Princess,” he says, smirking at her.
When Clarke is dressed, Bellamy crosses the small exam room to rap on the door. He smiles at Maya when she swings it open. “We’re good,” he says, his voice surprisingly normal for talking to the woman who just had her hands on his girlfriend’s cervix. Or something. There may, in fact, be some details Bellamy probably shouldn’t know.
“Good,” Maya says, walking back into the exam room with Bellamy. She washes her hands again before reaching for the stethoscope around her neck. “So since you’re almost twenty-four weeks, your baby’s heartbeat is actually strong enough through a stethoscope,” she says with a smile. “So if you don’t mind rolling up your shirt, I’d love to listen.”
Bellamy’s eyes go wide as soon as Maya speaks, everything else forgotten.
The baby is strong enough to hear without an ultrasound machine. He meets Clarke’s eyes, his expression cracked open. That’s so big. His heart feels so full it’s bursting, spilling out all over – into his lungs, up his throat.
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