Can anyone else see the sex scene happening if Abby’s the one to give him the Chancellor’s Pin after it’s decided Marcus is going to be the next Chancellor? Hear me out on this semi-fic thing that doesn’t have actual smut because I’m the worst, folks.
It’s late in Arkadia, and everyone’s just gotten back from Polis. Everyone’s exhausted mentally and physically, and almost the entire population of the camp runs back to their rooms, jumps in bed, and is out within a minute of putting their head on the pillow.
Everyone except newly-appointed Chancellor Marcus Kane.
Abby knows where she’ll find him - it isn’t difficult to predict where he’ll be, not after everything they’ve been through - and she doesn’t bother knocking before opening and closing the council room door behind her.
“It’s late,” she says. It’s both an observation and a bit of an accusation: Marcus, why aren’t you sleeping?
She knows the answer to that question, so she doesn’t bother asking. It’s the same reason she isn’t sleeping, the same reason Clarke and Bellamy and Raven are still awake.
Six months. That’s all they have.
“It is,” Marcus agrees, turning from the map of the areas surrounding Arkadia to give her his full attention. “You should be getting some rest, Abby.”
“I’ll sleep when you do,” she says, moving closer until she’s in his arms with her head resting on his shoulder. She hears him sigh a tiny sigh as she runs her fingers through his messy hair, hair he won’t have time to trim with all the chaos that’s about to erupt.
Clarke may have been the one to free them from the City of Light, but Abby knows how heavily this burden rests on Marcus’ shoulders. She can see it in his eyes when he looks at her, in the tension in his shoulders when he pores over maps and data.
“I have something for you,” she says as she leans back just enough to look in his eyes, rummaging around in the pocket of her jacket. For a small, frightening moment she thinks it’s lost - resting somewhere between Polis and Arkadia, submerged between countless layers of dust and leaves - but then she checks the other pocket, and thank God.
She pulls out the slightly tarnished Chancellor’s Pin, taken off Pike’s jacket before they left Polis.
“We’re still in this together, you know,” she whispers as she places the pin in his hands, remembering that sunny day in the market that feels like eons ago.
“No matter who wears the pin,” he says with a small smile. That by itself is a triumph - she’s managed to make him smile again. But he sets the pin down on the table instead of securing it to his jacket, and she worries her efforts may have been for naught.
When he looks at her again, there’s a level of despair in his eyes she’s never seen on the ground: not since their time among the stars. Her heart sinks.
“Abby, I-” he starts, then stops. “I have to figure this out. They’re looking to me for answers, and I can’t let them down. Our people need hope. They’ve been through so much.”
“You will,” she reassures him. “You’re going to be the best Chancellor our people have had.”
Another smile, this one slightly sheepish.
“Well, I don’t know if I can live up to you,” he says. “You were a wonderful Chancellor, Abby.”
She doesn’t think so, but that’s not what he needs to hear right now. What he needs right now is comfort and confidence, and neither of these things can be achieved on the less-than-three hours of sleep he obtained the night before.
“Something tells me you’ll be a tough act to follow,” she says with a smile, he laughs a self-deprecating Marcus Kane laugh, and she doesn’t know quite how it happens but suddenly she’s kissing him with all the force and passion she can muster at this ungodly hour of the night.
She traces her tongue along his lower lip, asking a question he answers by allowing her entrance with a soft moan. He tastes sweet, like the berries Lincoln taught her to find in the forest.
When she was under ALIE’s control, she hadn’t been able to think about how he tasted. But this is the opposite of that, this is all sensation and emotion, this is about exploring each other instead of getting information.
His hands find their way underneath her shirt as they stumble toward the couch, an endearing mix of clumsy and graceful. Her shirt and boots get lost somewhere along the way, as do his, and everywhere he touches her feels like she’s catching fire.
He pauses for a moment as she fumbles with the zipper on his pants, pupils wide with lust and love and a thousand emotions she doesn’t have names for.
“Are you sure?” he asks as his cheeks glow slightly red, and it’s all she can do not to laugh. Only Marcus Kane.
She answers his question with another deep, slow kiss, sliding out of her pants as the back of her legs bump against the soft surface of the couch.
“We have six months, Marcus,” she says, laying down and beckoning him to join her. “I don’t just want to survive. I want to live.”
