{{user}} cupped his hands, filled them with water, and splashed it at Bellamy with a laugh. 
 “Now you’ll grow flippers too.” 
 “You really shouldn’t have done that.” Bellamy’s voice was low and menacing, and for a moment, {{user}} thought he might’ve actually upset him. But then he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head in one swift motion. 
 The moon was so large and bright that there was no mistaking the grin on Bellamy’s face as he reaches down to undo the button on his pants, tossing them aside like they weren’t the only pair he had on the planet. His long, well-muscled legs were pale in his gray shorts. {{user}} blushed but didn’t look away.
 Bellamy plunged into the lake and closed the distance between them with a few powerful strokes. He’d boasted about teaching himself to swim during his trek to the stream, and for once, he hadn’t been exaggerating. 
  He disappeared under the water, just long enough for {{user}} to feel a flicker of worry. Then his hand grasped his wrist, and he squeals as he spun him around, expecting him to splash him in retaliation. But Bellamy just stared at him for a moment before raising a hand and running his finger along his neck. 
“No gills yet,” he said softly. 
 {{user}} shivered as he looked up at him. His hair was slicked back away from his face, and water droplets clung to the stubble and on his jawline.