Disclaimer: I don't own The 100. Everything belongs to whoever owns them, my wishful thinking aside.

Authors Note #1: a tumblr anon asked for Kabby: "based on the fact that marcus kane initiates *the kiss* and literally sucks on abby's lip, i would like to request a fic about abby finding out for the first time what other things his talented passionate mouth can do." – My brain shorted out just reading that prompt, let me tell you. This is set post sometime after the season three finale.

Warnings: sexual content, adult language, nudity, oral sex, cunninglus, first time, angst, hurt/comfort, closely following the season three finale. It got a little plotty near the end so expect some post-chip feels.

Kilig

The truth was, when life wasn't like it was on the Ark - when everything was live or die and nothing was as malleable and possible like it was on the ground - Marcus was easily distracted. Tactile and open in the best and worst of ways. Mind always working, processing- alive. Jumping from topic to topic, thought to thought, doing that thing with his beard that had been slowly driving her crazy – rasping the pads of his fingers ever so slightly against the grain - since he'd started letting it grow.

But when she had all that focus on herself?

Jesus.

When he tried to put her down on the bed, she refused to let him go. Keeping her legs wrapped around his hips until gravity brought him down with her. Arms shooting out to brace himself on either side as she bridged a laugh – delighted and breathless – into the middle of his bitten off curse. Basking in her ability to still be able to catch him off guard as he stole a kiss. Tugging playfully at her lower lip in a way she didn't know she liked until that very moment. Smiling into it until the flesh thinned enough that he lost his hold and had to do it again.

Yes- again.

This was the first time.

Their first time.

But somehow it didn't feel like it.

He played her like he knew her already.

And maybe he did.

Maybe they both did.

Maye this was what happened when two people finally came together after knowing each other in every way there was to know another. The good and the bad. Maybe this is what they'd been working their way up to all along. All the way back to the greyscale life of animosity and grudging respect they'd had for each other on the Ark.

Maybe this was the new beginning Vera had always promised in her sermons.

Maybe.

Maybe.

She sighed, the muscles in the inner of her thighs twitching and jumping as she buried her hands in his hair. Tugging confidently, like she knew he wouldn't refuse her anything, as the rasp of his beard scratched pleasantly against her skin. Encouraging more and more as his tongue flicked over her nub. Hitting the mark every- single- time-

And oh-

Oh yes.

The throb in her center was visceral – electric – when he slurped nosily. Hands crowned on the flat of her hips, keeping her down as he nosed into her folds. Adding a finger here and there as all the tension she hadn't realized she'd been holding onto eased and unfolded. Like the petals on a wild flower.

She threw back her head, arcing with it when he found a spot – a pressure and a rhythm – that ramped everything up. Her knees drew up on their own accord, her attempt to make sure he kept himself right where she needed him as the heel of her foot pressed against the small of his back. Letting go of a surprised tangle of syllables when one finger became two. Flattening his tongue over her clit in the same quickening rhythm as his fingers.

Building her up, and up and-

He pulled away suddenly, coming up for air as her hips chased the phantoms. Swearing she could feel what would have come next as his fingers curled inside her. Grounding her as she let go of a breathy complaint that promptly strangled itself when he looked up at her - face shimmering with her juices. Licking his lips with dark eyes and a self-satisfied expression as her center throbbed.

God, he was good.

Just like she knew he would be.

But it was the expression that made tracks on his face afterwards that made her pause. The one that tried to keep him in the past and convince himself that he didn't deserve this. That all the things he'd done – all the things they'd done – had jaded him too deeply.

It was the one thing she hated on his face more than tears or blood.

"Marcus…"

Her nails bit half-crescents into the mole-speckled skin of his shoulder blades. Stopping shy of drawing blood as his hair shadowed his expression. Hiding his eyes. She squeezed gently, coaxing the muscles under her hands to flex and gradually soften. Encouraging him to come back to her as the hard curl of his cock twitched against her thigh.

When he met her eyes again – eventually, carefully – the landscape between them was lighter. Enough to muster a small smile from him when her eyes crinkled into an approximation of the same. Both of them feeling their age in that moment – the weight of everything they'd done, everything that'd happened, everyone they'd lost – as they breathed each other's air. Allowing the moment to rest as she tipped back against the pillows, running her hand through his hair with a shuddery sigh.

They'd both been through so much it was a miracle they were still standing, let alone trying.

It reminded her of what she'd whispered to him – back in his quarters after Polis and A.L.I.E. Trying to make him understand how her feelings had still been there. How they'd been the driving force behind everything she'd done – regardless of how sinister and dark. That was what the chip did. It took advantage of the good parts of love and still managed to make them hurt. A.L.I.E erased the bad, and warped the rest. After all, how could a machine understand love? Love was the most powerful emotion humanity had at its disposal and A.L.I.E thought it understood. But it hadn't. They'd won because love was as pure as it was jaded. And that even when it hurt it made you stronger. Even when it was lost, it was worth remembering. Love was what sent their ancestors to the Ark and love was what sent it crashing back down again.

"A lot of me was lost in you…"

That was what her heart was beating for now.

Why they were right here, right now- even after everything.

It had been true for a long time.

Longer than she'd like to admit.

But just long enough for her to understand what she wasn't willing to live without.

"Come here," she murmured, coaxing him up as he budged up the mattress and into her arms. Sinking into her and holding her tightly as his fist clenched deep into the tangle of her hair. Keeping her tethered, like even now he half expected something to come and separate them. Eventually following her example as his cock softened in grudging increments against the v of her legs. Breathing deep and slow as his lashes tickled closed against her collarbone.

They had all the time in the world to finish what they'd started.

A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. – This story is now complete.

Reference:

"Kilig" is a rare word meaning: "the rush or the inexplicable joy one feels after seeing or experiencing something romantic."