Work Text:
The sun is shining through the blinds, not only illuminating the room but also directly penetrating his eyes despite that his lids are closed. He takes one of his hands from under the blanket and covers his face while trying to turn around to the other side of the bed, facing away from the window with the evil sun reminding him that another busy day is about to start full of tasks he is so not ready to tackle today.
Only he can’t turn, because there is an arm covering him, making him unable to move.
At first he panics, thinking about what happened the night before and wondering what unfamiliar face he picked out from a crowd in a bar is lying next to him, but then he remembers that he for some reason no longer desires such meaningless connection just for a short surge of a thrill.
This is comfort, warmth and right.
It’s starting to stop scaring him.
Dark hair is draped over her face in strands that are knotted together. She will have a difficult time getting those out, he realizes. Adrien starts fixing it for her by running his fingers through them, eventually revealing her gorgeous bluebell eyes and wonderful plump lips that he kissed he doesn’t know how many times last night.
She grunts sleepily and blinks up at him slowly. She crawls forward to press herself against his chest, the rough cotton of the old shirt she stole from his closet to sleep in rubbing against him. Her hair tickles his chin and nose, so he blows it out of the way, making her giggle.
“Sorry,” Marinette says, sleep laced with her words. She sighs when she finds a comfortable spot with her arms encircling him. “My hair is kinda wild in the morning.”
“I know.” He rests his hands on her lower back and gently rubs circles with this thumbs, making her groan in contentment. “What do you want for breakfast?”
“Whatever you have in the fridge.”
“Not a lot,” he admits with a chuckle. “Wasn’t expecting company. We can go out to a café though.”
He feels her tense up, he knows exactly why.
Poor choice of words on his part.
“Go out?”
Marinette sounds fragile and he doesn’t blame her. She knows he can’t give her what she desires. He’s abusing her feelings for his own gain, of that she is aware, too. But since it gives at least a sense of what she truly wants, she lets him toy with her for his own pleasure.
Because she is desperate.
And he is horrible.
“Yeah,” he answers after a while.
A pause.
“…Like a date?” she finally asks.
He’s unsure of what to answer. Marinette is conscious of where they stand ever since they started this dance – he made that clear to her many times – but when his feelings started to shift, he didn’t know when to tell her that he is done. That he can’t do this anymore, because she’s making him feel things he’s never felt since he let go of Ladybug, and he must let go of her as well.
And yet, letting go of her for the sake of his own sanity seems like the one thing that will make him go insane.
She surprised him last night by ringing him up, saying she had a rough day and needed some stress relief. He, obviously, was more than willing to give her whatever she wanted.
Now, just laying with her in bed, the sun (while still being evil) casting light upon their partly naked bodies, making her hair gleam, her eyes shine and the bedroom their own little soft, warm, magical nest he doesn’t want to leave, is the best thing he will ever experience.
Being with her feels domestic, eerily so. Not because he doesn’t want to be with Marinette like this, but because he’s not used to this feeling. Of wanting to spend continuous time with this one person, wanting to learn every inch about their body, their brain, their soul.
Marinette is passionate and powerful and he’s not in the least shocked that he eventually started to drown in her, making him have dangerous thoughts. They just don’t seem that scary anymore.
Not with her by his side.
“Yeah,” he decides to answer.
In return, she squeezes him tighter and tighter until he can’t feel air reaching his lungs anymore, but he doesn’t care because it makes him feel like he’s floating higher than he’s ever been before, so he squeezes back and presses a kiss on her shoulder. She replies by suckling on his neck, in that spot behind his ear that feels just right.
Marinette slides down his body, making him let go of her by being unable to reach her with his hands. He relaxes and lies back, letting her do what she does so wonderfully each time, thinking that in a few minutes he will be ready to give her what she needs, but then she slides even further down the bed until she is complete off it, taking the warmth she emits with her.
“What are you doing?” he asks, confusion most likely clear in his voice and expression, based on her own reaction; biting her lip teasingly, knowing exactly what he was expecting.
“You can wait a bit. You’ve kept me waiting long enough, I think.”
He can only gape at her with his mouth open when she exchanges the bedroom for the bathroom. After a few seconds, the sound of the shower turning on takes him out of his stupor.
Two can play that game.
With a grin, he drags the blanket off him and steps out of the bed, silently tiptoeing towards the bathroom sliding door in order to not notify her of his incoming attack. His hands are on the edge of the door and he wants to slide it open as quietly as possible.
It doesn’t budge.
“She locked it,” he whispers to himself, repeatedly pulling on the door to make certain of it. He doesn’t know why he’s still whispering though, because by the laughter coming from inside the locked room, he can tell she’s more than aware of his current issue. “Tease!” he shouts at her playfully. “You know you have to come out of that room at some point, right?”
“Hm, don’t know about that,” is called over the water being blasted on the stone tiles. “I’m pretty comfortable here. I could stay forever.”
“What about our breakfast date?” he offers.
She answers after a swear, which makes him let out a laugh. “I wouldn’t want to miss it.”
“Neither do I,” he replies softly. He’s unsure if she hears it.
When there’s no more sound coming from the bathroom except for the water clattering and shampoo bottles being opened, Adrien steps away and returns to the bedroom to gather an outfit to wear. Comfortable, but not too casual. He wants to show her some effort, even if she will only be dressed in her work clothes from last night.
It takes her no longer than fifteen minutes to emerge from the bathroom, wrapped in his robe, steam trailing behind her.
“That was nice,” she hums, plopping herself on the couch in the living room where he is sitting to read, patiently waiting for her to finish getting ready. She rests her head on his shoulder, her cold, wet strands making certain areas of the blue shirt he’s wearing turn darker in color, but he doesn’t mind. “I’m kind of disappointed you didn’t break the door open. I missed you in there.”
Adrien chuckles. “I have some self-restraint. And you are the one that locked the door, so you have no one to blame but yourself.”
“Absolutely true.” She stretches her arms out with a satisfied sigh. “I’ll make it up to you. Let’s have breakfast and come back here when we’re all fueled up. Then I’m all yours.”
One corner of his lips pops up, but he lets his gaze remain on the book. “Tempting, but I have work today. So you’ll have to come back tonight.”
That ends up with her pouting at him, but she nods in understanding nonetheless. Her face then turns mischievous and she starts to straddle him, taking his book and dropping it to the ground. “Sure, let work come before this body. Do you want me to take off the robe to convince you?” Marinette starts to slide off one of the sleeves of the robe, but Adrien stops her.
“You don’t have to convince me of anything, Marinette. You’re more than just a body to me.” He closes the robe that has now slightly opened and pulls her closer in the process, pecking her lightly on the lips. “You don’t have to do anything to make me stay with you.”
That makes her blush. She presses her lips to his in return. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be clingy.”
“Please, cling to me,” he says, knowing that it sounds more desperate than he intends. “It’s all sort of new to me, but I’ve never felt this way with anyone before. You make me want more.”
Completely caught off guard, Marinette hides her ever-reddening face in his neck. “You can’t just say things like that.”
The laugh he bellows out is loud and genuine, the side of him that very few people can pull out.
Of course she can.
“Get ready so I can take you out on our first date, okay?” He presses one last kiss to her forehead to hopefully express that he means it: that he doesn’t want anyone but her to wake up to, to have breakfast with, to take teasing showers with, to have beside him for the rest of his life.
Perhaps he’s moving a bit fast, admittedly, but now that he’s experiencing this feeling he never wants to let it go.
Marinette nods with the most radiant smile he’s ever seen. “I’d like that.”