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“I have to cut a stray thread,” Marinette mumbled. “I can’t do it with my teeth.”
Not for lack of trying, Adrien thought. He felt his face grow warm because she was still kneeling next to him and too close for comfort. It wouldn’t bother him usually, but he was only in his boxers and it was Marinette there with him! A last-minute amendment to a shirt wasn't supposed to be this hot. At least he could thank the stars that she wasn’t on her knees in front of him .
“Pity,” he mumbled. “But be careful with those scissors, m’lady.”
“Are you nervous?” She grinned up at him. She was in her element and not being shy at all. Which didn't help him at all.
“I trust you with my life, but forgive me for being a little scared of you holding something sharp next to me,” he teased her.
“You face monsters but can’t take a cut. Tsk tsk.”
“You’ll be the one explaining to my father why I got my leg hurt ahead of a swimwear photoshoot,” he said casually. He knew this would make her pause before nipping his skin as a joke. His father trusted her with doing this, but he wouldn’t hold back his criticism if she hurt him. Not that Adrien wouldn’t take her side even in such a case.
“Oh, you’re taking out the big guns. Ok, I’ll be careful.” Thankfully, she was done with the thread before anything could go wrong.
“Are you done amending the shirt anyway?” He asked.
“Yes. It’s done.” She straightened the green fabric with her hand, looking rather proud of herself. For a reason.
“Phew.”
“One would think you’d be used to this by now,” she noted. “You look a little red in the face.”
“With anyone else, I wouldn’t mind. But it’s you,” he admitted.
“Does this mean that you’d mind if I were to take off this shirt…” Her nimble fingers were already unbuttoning it.
“And then what?” He gulped as she peeled it away from him.
“I’ll put it on a hanger so that it doesn’t get wrinkles,” she said nonchalantly while doing just that. “And then…”
“Then?” A frisson of excitement ran through him. He had a feeling that this wasn’t just about her taking care of the clothes.
“I’ll show you how hard it was for me to work on you without getting distracted,” she said, suddenly a lot closer to him.
“Oh,” he exclaimed just before her lips claimed his and her arms wrapped around him. Her kiss, hungry and unabashed, spoke volumes anyway. He hadn't been the only one whose mind had wandered.
“You don’t even have pants, very convenient,” she giggled against his lips as she pushed him towards his bed.
“I bet,” he mumbled, barely holding in a moan when her lips danced down his neck. “No marks.”
“I have no scissors this time, kitty, no need to be nervous,” she reminded him.
“You don’t need them to leave marks.” He knew that all too well.
Her chuckle didn’t make him feel safer. But he was willing to take the risk. After all, they had some time before the fashion show started and they could use it.