Work Text:
"You're nervous."
Chat Noir laughed shakily. "Am I that transparent?"
She tried not to move her hips too suddenly. Ladybug leaned back from her perch in his lap, studying him. He had a strong grip with shaky hands. A smirk with a flushed face. He kissed her like he'd done this before, but also like she was the first girl to straddle him on a hilltop with only the moon as their witness.
"No," she said. "But I can feel your breath trembling."
He groaned. His fingers sank deeper into the flesh of her thighs. "I"m so embarrassed."
"You don't have to be," she said, although red-faced herself.
A slow smile came about on his face. Chat Noir closed the distance Ladybug had created, nose skimming her collarbone, and chuckled against her suit.
"I don't do this often," he said sheepishly.
"'Often'?"
"At all."
Ladybug said nothing. She stroked his hair, and he shifted his head a little higher, burying it into her neck.
His lips found the strip of skin between her jaw and her collar. She clutched him tighter.
"Have you done this before?" he mumbled against her.
She shivered. "I"d never kiss and tell."
"How much kissing do you do in the first place?"
"You"d like to know, wouldn't you?"
Chat Noir sucked on her jaw until she capitulated. On her tongue was either a sound that would humiliate her or the truth — she wasn't too sure yet.
"Not many," she gasped out.
He grinned on her skin. "'Not many'?"
Ladybug gulped. "None."
"And here I was thinking I had competition."
"That doesn't mean you shouldn't give me your best, kitty-cat."
"Always for you, My Lady."
Chat Noir took his face out of her neck. His lips glistened and his eyes were hooded, and she knew if she were to cup his face and press her mouth to his once again he would be more than happy to oblige.
But he got to her before she got to him. Chat Noir wrapped an arm around her waist and flipped them over, his weight now pressing her supine against the cold hilltop.
"What are you doing?" she gasped, winding her arms around his shoulders.
In lieu of a reply, Chat Noir kissed her. This time, Ladybug couldn't control the jerk of her hips — not with the taste of his tongue and the taste of the wind engraved in the lines of his lips. He intertwined their fingers and slid their hands up to rest by her head. Dewdrops smeared off the grass blades and onto her arm.
"Giving you my best," he told her, and winked.