@tadelana100 requested a headcanon for becho’s first kiss. Hope you like it!
He knew that he was into Echo, but it wasn’t something he ever let himself dwell on. If he ever imagined something happening between them, he would have assumed it would happen on the training mat while they were sparring, or one of the late nights where they found each other at the Earth Monitoring Window, each haunted by their own ghosts, driven to talk to each other just to drown out their sorrow. But it’s not like that, nor is it when they’re working on projects for Raven, sorting or moving scrap metal and wires.
It happens like this: left alone at the dinner table long after the others have gone to bed, discussing old news broadcasts they’d found on the archive. It never ceases to amaze him the way Echo thinks about things- sometimes it aligns with his own thinking, sometimes it’s enitrely different, but it always challenges the way he thinks about things, and he’d guess his views do the same for her. But tonight he thinks it’s less about the subject matter and more that they’re just enjoying each other’s company. The lapse into silences at times, but neither of them makes noises about going to bed, and each time they find threads of a new conversation to follow.
Echo’s in the chair next to him, swung to face him so that her knees just brush again his leg where it’s sprawled open. She’s watching him talk with her dark, thoughtful eyes, lips pursed maybe in amusement, eyebrow raised in the way it is when she wants to call bullshit on something, and Bellamy is struck suddenly by how well he knows her- this girl who he once hated with a burning dark rage in his chest now makes him curious, makes him want to know more.
When silence falls again between them, Echo just looks at him and he’s be lying if he doesn’t feel the tug between them. It’s poignant to reach out and touch her hair where it falls loose over her collarbone. He rubs the soft strand against his thumb, suddenly a little shy about touching her like this, can’t quite meet her eyes because this feels like a lot. He hasn’t touched anyone so gently since Clarke gave up her life for them, and this feels like an admission. But then Echo catches his wrist and her thumb brushes over his pulse point, just as tentative as he is, maybe a little unbelieving.
So he takes a chance, and it’s the softest kiss he’s ever given or received. It’s too new and unsure between them to be more than that, but then Echo makes a soft, hopeful sound and Bellamy kisses her again, sliding his hand up to cup her jaw. He has a lot to learn still, about Echo, about himself, about what the future might hold, but there’s a sense of relief in this- he can still feel, he can still want.
