#marcuskanc

Easy for him, Abby can't help thinking. He doesn't have to live in this stupid body that is currently swollen in all the wrong places, reacts poorly to temperature… reacts poorly to everything, really, in ways that make her wonder how the human race has survived so long. But Marcus, who just has to watch her personal hell, thinks it's beautiful. So maybe there are a few upsides to this incubation period.

Right now, however, is not an upside. Right now, Abby is praying to things she doesn't believe in that their door stays locked because she is standing naked in the middle of their space and she feels like she is on fire and the idea of putting on clothes again at any point in the near future is very unappealing. Which is going to be extremely awkward when some crisis inevitably happens before her hot flash is over and god, whomever taught half the kids to pick locks is going to have problems if they're still alive and she ever finds out who they are and-

Hey, at least she knows sounds enough to know that an actual key is in the lock right now, which means it's probably just her partner and she'll be okay. Probably.

Sure enough, the door opens just enough for Marcus to slip in and promptly drop whatever he's holding (it looks vaguely like a notebook but Abby is slightly distracted and isn't sure). Over a year together and he's still in awe of her, although she supposes her physical transformation might have something to do with it. Point is, she'll never get sick of the way he looks at her, like she's glowing and not just in the pregnancy way, like she is the most beautiful thing his eyes will ever see. Worshipful, almost, and yet-

"Are you alright?" he asks, voice slow like he's not sure that's even the right question.

"Hot flash," Abby shrugs. Not, in the grand scheme of things, one of the weirder side effects she's had lately. "Don't judge."

"I'm not…"

She moves towards him, close close close, and presses her lips to his for a heartbeat. "Reflexes," she breathes against his skin. "Let me have this."

"Anything I can do?"

"Not sure. Anything you have in mind?"

She knows where this leads, or at least where she wants it to, but it's more fun when she baits until he moves. So much more fun to watch Marcus's precious composure slip - okay, fine, he's not as obsessed with appearing bulletproof as he used to be but there are still echoes of that trait - and watch him become someone else. Someone only she truly knows, someone who only exists within the sanctity of this space.

Someone who has no trouble with pulling her into an embrace, hands wandering up and down her back, exploring and savoring and kissing her at just the right moment to distract her so perfectly.

"Hormones in our favor?" he asks when they come up for air, before this goes further.

"Far as I know." If the warmth blossoming in her core is any indication…

"Good."

She still hates the current form of her body, but she hates it a little less when her partner shows such gentleness. He takes sweet time with her, touches places that were not this sensitive five months ago, and oh she could get used to this. Is used to it, really.

"What do you want, Abby?"

"Just keep touching me. I can't… I still feel like I'm on fire, so…"

"It's okay." He cups her face with his hands and makes cautious eye contact. "I want to make you happy. That's what matters here."

"I have about zero desire to touch you right now. Just letting you know."

"I can live with that."

(God, she's not used to him compromising. Not this easily, at least.)

She closes her eyes and gives in.

So easy, this. So easy to trust and let Marcus do what he will, let his fingers trace beautiful patterns on her thighs and his mouth close around an aching nipple and then a finger slips up and grazes her clit and oh, one thing she does not hate about this pregnancy is it takes almost nothing to get her off and oh, good, please.

If she has to be overwhelmed so completely, there's no other way she'd prefer.

Her body comes down and she halfway collapses against him, almost laughing as she processes the utter ridiculousness of her life and current position. Sometimes it doesn't even feel real, and sometimes-

"Everything alright?"

"I might be in shock," Abby murmurs. "Maybe."

"Love you too," he replies, gently kissing her forehead.

"Weird hormones and all?"