@putonyourbathingsuits and the rest of @slackru , this one is for you guys because you're all amazing people.
Story takes place shortly before 3x01
Abby doesn’t know how long they’ve been going over reports, but her muscles are starting to cramp up from being hunched over the desk and more than once she had to rub her eyes in order to be able to focus on the words in front of her.
“I don’t know about you, but I could use some coffee. Do you want a cup as well?” She asks without lifting her gaze from the report she’s been trying to read for the past couple of minutes.
When she doesn’t receive a response, Abby glances towards the couch. “Marcus?”
A tender smile appears on her face when her gaze settles on Marcus who’s fast asleep with his head tilted back and the report he’d been going over still clutched in his hand.
Softly rising from her position, Abby stretches her muscles before making her way over to him.
Gazing at him, she carefully sits down next to him before gently extracting the report from his grip and placing it on the table in front of him. At the loss of the report, Marcus lets out a soft sigh before turning his body slightly until his entire left side is resting against the couch.
He must have been very exhausted Abby reckons, for him to fall asleep during their meeting. Noticing the bags under his eyes, she frowns. Ever since coming back from Mt. Weather two months ago they both have been working around the clock to make sure that the camp was at least operational. As acting Chancellor, she’d been juggling her duties as a doctor with leading the camp. She can’t remember the last time she had more than two or three hours of sleep. She was either in medical or in the council room. And Marcus, thankfully, had been there every frustrating step of the way. Not only was he responsible for the recruitment and training of new soldiers, he also had been having tentative conversations about forming an alliance with Indra, not to mention that he’d been helping her with running the camp.
No wonder the man was exhausted.
Abby fondly shakes her head, this was so typical Marcus. Every day he insisted that she’d stop earlier by offering to read her stack of reports or he’d make sure she ate something by leaving a bowl soup on her desk in medical or bringing a plate of whatever they served in the mess hall to the council room during the evening. He was so focused on making sure that she didn’t overtax herself, that he forgot to take care of himself.
As she lets her eyes wander across his form, it’s only then that she notices that somewhere during the meeting he had taken off his jacket, leaving him clad in merely a pair of pants and a grey shirt.
A very tight grey shirt. Her mind whispers, but Abby firmly presses those thoughts down.
Marcus shifts a bit in his sleep and his head drops slightly, causing some locks to fall across his forehead, one curl in particular. Said curl had been on her mind for far too many times these past couple of weeks. Her eyes always seemed to inadvertently stray to it, whether they were in a meeting, in the mess hall, walking together or even when she spotted him from across the camp. Four nights ago the curl even managed to make its way into her dreams during one of her rare moments of rests. The only thing Abby remembers from the dream is that she couldn’t stop running her hands through his hair. She had a hard time looking Marcus in the eyes the following day and she even went as far as to not look at his hair at all, which hadn’t been easy.
Even now, Abby can feel her fingers twitch at the thought of running them through his locks. Before she even realizes it she has already lifted her hand and moved it towards him. Her hand hesitantly hovers just above his head for a couple of seconds, but after ensuring that he’s still asleep, she ever so gently reaches out and brushes away the curl that had been haunting her thoughts. As it slips between her fingers, his hair feels even softer than she had ever imagined. Not that she had imagined it of course.
Okay, maybe she had.
Once or twice.
After a drink.
Or during some sleepless nights.
Maybe.
Abby can’t help but run her fingers through the rest of his hair as well, and her eyes widen almost comically at the pleased sigh which slips from between Marcus’ lips at the sensation. Biting back a nervous giggle she removes her hand from his hair, only for it to move towards his beard. Which is another feature of his that had captured her fascination ever since he had decided to stop shaving. It was such a vast difference from his clean shaven, hair slicked back look he wore on the Ark. Abby still remembers the first time she had noticed his stubble and how Marcus had bashfully rubbed his hand over his cheek, muttering something about being captured by the grounders and a lack of razors. Without giving it a second thought she had blurted out that she much preferred the stubble, and in reply, he’d given her a shy smile, which had evoked a strange tug in her stomach.
And now several months later, she still prefers what she calls the earth Marcus look. The slightly longer hair which is no longer held back gives him a more roguish appearance. In combination with the beard, his features have softened and his eyes seem even more intense. On several occasions, she has had to tear her gaze away for his eyes seemed to convey so many emotions she became overwhelmed.
Cupping his cheek, Abby marvels at the feel of his beard tickling her skin. The feeling is entirely unfamiliar, but not unpleasant.
Not unpleasant at all.
To her amazement and delight, Marcus presses his cheek firmer against the palm of her hand. Albeit a tad hesitantly, she starts to run her fingers through his beard and fails to suppress the tiny gasp that escapes her mouth when Marcus almost purrs at her touch.
Abby tenses, afraid that she woke him up, but he simply leans into her caress while a soft and content smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. So she relaxes and continues to gently stroke his beard, loving the feel of his beard between her fingers.
She doesn’t know how long she's caressing his beard but when a shiver travels through his body, Abby removes her hand from his beard and while ignoring that displeased moan escaping his mouth she rises from her position on the couch before making her way over to the closet where Marcus keeps some blankets. One night he had shown up with a bundle of blankets, claiming that if she kept insisting on falling asleep on the couch, he'd make sure that she would at least be warm.
Gently covering his body with the blanket, a tender smile appears on her face when Marcus immediately shifts in his sleep and one of his hands clutches the fabric. Just as she's about to move back towards the desk a hand reaches out and grabs her arm.
Since she hadn't expected Marcus to be awake she's slightly startled, but Abby still turns her head and comes face to face with a still sleepy looking Marcus.
"Where are you going?" he asks, his voice still rough from sleep and Abby can't help but feel of tug of arousal in the pit of her stomach at the sound of it.
“I was merely going back to the desk,“ she softly explains.
“You need to rest as well Abby, you've been working too hard lately," he whispers. "There's more than enough room for the both of us," he continues while gesturing at the couch.
At his suggestion, Abby’s eyes widen in surprise.
Did he just?
Marcus must have realized how his suggestion sounded because he quickly continues, his cheeks slightly flushed. “I mean, we both know that you aren't going back to your quarters. So you'd probably end up in medical, working until you fall asleep behind your desk, again. And you need sleep as well Abby. Come one, the blanket is large enough for the both of us.”
“I-" Abby starts, but she falls silent when she realizes that she doesn't even have the energy to form a proper excuse. And Marcus is right, she is tired.
However, Abby doesn't know if snuggling up against Marcus is such a good idea. Especially not with all those thoughts running through her mind. But they would simply share a blanket and the door of the room is closed so nobody can interrupt them or walk in on them. That's the last thing Abby needs. Someone catching them asleep on the couch and telling others. There are already too many rumours about the both of them.
After pondering for a couple of seconds, she shrugs. It's only for an hour or two. They'd be up before the rest of the camp woke up.
“Okay, scoot over then.”
Flashing her a beaming smile, Marcus moves until he’s pressed against the side of the couch.
Abby quickly takes off her shoes, before curling against his side, her legs positioned next to her.
“Can I-?” she asks while lifting her arm.
At his confirmative nod, she wraps her arm around his waist. Her head comes to rest against his chest, just above his heart and she feels the thumping of his heart beneath her ear oddly comforting.
Marcus also wraps an arm around her shoulder, before pulling her closer while lifting his feet and letting them rest on the table in front of the couch.
This should feel odd or at least a bit awkward. The only time she's been this close to Marcus was when he had crawled through the vent on the Ark. Or perhaps when they'd been trapped after the bombing in Ton DC. But both of those situations hadn't been voluntary. They'd been thrown into them and they had feared for their lives, but this? This is something different. They have never initiated so much physical contact before.
So this, cuddling together while sharing a blanket, should definitely feel weird.
But it didn’t, and that realization both excites and slightly terrifies her because even though they've become closer ever since Marcus had come back from his captivity Abby doesn't know what they precisely are?! Sometimes she does catch Marcus starting at her lips for a fraction too long, but she's afraid.
Of what she doesn't know.
Perhaps she's scared of losing what they've built so far? Or afraid of getting her heart broken again?
Those questions will have to wait because for now, Abby closes her eyes and lets the beating of his heart lull her to sleep.
“Goodnight,” she mutters, already half asleep.
“Goodnight,” comes his soft reply, as his breath brushes against the top of her hair.
