Work Text:
“We can’t,” Ladybug breathed against his mouth, so close Adrien could count her eyelashes. “Your father—”
“Isn’t here,” Adrien said, fierce and flushed.
Ladybug swallowed, and as she did, her lips grazed his. He couldn’t help the shudder that ran through him.
“Ladybug,” Adrien repeated, hoarse. “Please.”
“Your Highness—”
“Not—it’s Adrien,” he said roughly. “When it’s you, it’s Adrien.”
“Adrien,” Ladybug whispered. “I’m an outlaw. Your father has men out for my head, I can’t...”
She shut her eyes, and Adrien waited with his heart in his throat and his blood rushing in his ears.
After what seemed like an eternity, Ladybug opened her eyes.
“Just one?” When she brought her gauntleted hand to his cheek it was trembling.
Adrien put his hand over hers, the metal cool against his skin. “Just one. If that’s all you want.”
Ladybug licked her lips and rocked back on her feet. Then she nodded to herself. “Okay,” she said.
The next thing Adrien knew, Ladybug’s mouth was hot and wanting on his, like the sudden ignite of a forest fire in the dry summer, his startled gasp stifled by her sudden kiss. She had both her hands bringing his face down to hers, her armored grip strong yet gentle. The steel was cold against his heated skin, and Adrien — oh, God. Adrien’s head was spinning.
Too late, he realized that in his daze, he had failed to reciprocate her kiss properly. Ladybug was already drawing back.
“Wait—”
“I told myself just one,” Ladybug whispered — but her voice was raw, and beneath her mask, the look in her eyes was like a searing brand. One of her hands lingered, and dropped to cup the back of his neck, oh so gently.
“My turn, then,” he said, so quiet he could barely hear himself; so bold he could barely believe his own audacity to beg another kiss off of the Ladybug of legend. But when he bent to kiss her again, she met him halfway. He kissed her slower than she had kissed him, wanting to savor every second of the moment. Ladybug sighed into his mouth, and he wished they could stay like this forever, kissing the evening hours away.
“Adrien,” Ladybug murmured in between half-kisses, her gauntleted fingers carding his hair, and a shiver went through him.
He kissed her harder and tasted the strawberries he’d offered her earlier, when she’d first come in. “Ladybug,” he breathed.
After what felt like years — after what felt like only seconds — their mouths parted again. Adrien, his forehead still pressed against hers, let out a shaky exhale. “God,” he said.
There was a small smile on Ladybug’s lips. “God,” she echoed. He drew back, just a little, just so he could see her better. Her cheeks were bright and flushed.
They stayed like that for a while, just looking, arms still entangled around the other. The night breeze was cool against Adrien’s warm skin. He found himself staring at Ladybug; mapping the lines of her nose, her cheekbones, her freckles in some helpless attempt to commit her face to memory. Ladybug was looking at him, too, bright-eyed and longing, in a way that made his heart beat wildly against his ribs. Adrien wanted to kiss her again. He wondered if she would let him.
Ladybug opened her mouth, but before she could run him off, or, or something, Adrien beat her to it.
“Stay,” he said, plaintive.
“I—You know I can’t,” she said, pained.
Adrien took her hands in his; clutched them to his chest and looked at her, his expression vulnerable and open.
“Adrien,” Ladybug rasped, defeated. “I need to go.”
Adrien slumped. “Alright,” he said. “I get it.”
Ladybug bowed her head. “I’m sorry,” she offered.
“It’s fine,” he said.
Ladybug was silent. And then, tentative: “Next time?”
Adrien felt as if he could hardly breathe. “Do you mean it?”
“Yes,” she said, the word falling from her lips like the most solemn of vows.
“Okay,” he breathed. “Okay.”
Silence, again.
“I should go,” Ladybug said again.
Adrien interlaced his fingers with hers; the armor made it tricky, but he didn’t care. “Mm.”
“I’m going,” Ladybug said. “I am.”
Adrien nodded, a smile on his lips. “Mm.”
Ladybug let out a fond huff. “Oh, you.”
“Me?” Adrien widened his eyes.
Ladybug shook her head, laughing softly. Her hair shimmered, a river of ebony in the moonlight. Adrien let his smile grow wider.
“Good night, Ladybug,” he said.
Ladybug brought his hand, still in hers, to her lips. She brushed a kiss against his knuckles. “Good night, Adrien,” she said, almost shyly.
She let go of his hand and backed away ‘til she was at the balcony railing. Then she leapt, and Ladybug disappeared into the night.
Even after she left, Adrien stayed rooted to the spot for several more minutes, still dizzy with her kiss, and a silly smile on his face.