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Luka was in hell.
His own, private, personal Hell.
And it was kind of (sort of) his own damn fault.
If only he had kept his stupid, fool mouth shut…
And it might not actually be hell – it was pretty damn close to being heaven – but for now it was hell, and if Marinette didn’t stop looking at him like that…or give him some room to think clearly or, y’know, breathe…yeah. It was hell. Absolute…
“…ok,” he said, swallowing thickly. He reached for her, and her eyes widened as he pulled her closer. She scrambled forward, falling into his lap and bracing herself on his shoulders as she sucked in a breath. She looked up at him through her lashes, her lips parted slightly as heat flooded her face. “You tell me there’s no difference, then.”
…heaven.
It was definitely heaven.
…how the hell had he ended up here?
Oh.
Yeah.
Rose.
And stupid Juleka.
He supposed he owed them one for this…
– V –
It was Friday. One of those rare Fridays that Luka didn’t actually have to work, and because of a family emergency on Ivan’s part they’d cancelled band practice, and Hawkmoth even seemed content to lay low for the evening – so the residents of the Liberty had found themselves with nothing to do but pop a movie in and hang out with their…well. With Juleka’s girlfriend. Marinette was an ex-girlfriend, but still a friend – but that also meant that, while Rose was curled up against Juleka’s side, half lying in her lap as she swooned over the romcom she’d convinced them to put in, Marinette was on the opposite side of the couch, sitting next to but still a respectable distance from Luka. Close enough that they could talk without disturbing the others, but not close enough to be considered…well. Together. Luka had been noodling, but after a while he had gotten…not bored, not exactly, but he just hadn’t really felt it, so good ol’ George had been set aside to sit on the ottoman masquerading as an arm chair next to the couch. Marinette still had her sketchbook in her lap, and Luka had found himself leaning in to watch her draw.
…his arm was along the back of the couch behind her, his head nearly on her shoulder as he watched her work. She had leaned back against him at some point – to hear him better, she swore, not because…not for any other reason. It was still…respectable. Friendly. Not…coupley.
They weren’t like that.
Not anymore.
Not for a long while.
Probably not for a while still…
“Oh, Jules,” Rose sighed after a particularly romantic scene. She tipped her head back and batted long lashes up at her girlfriend. “Kiss me. Please.”
Luka snorted, but not loud enough for them to notice. Marinette jabbed her elbow back into his side, but she had to agree with him: like Rose ever needed to ask.
“…ok,” Juleka murmured. She glanced over at her brother and friend quickly before tipping Rose’s chin up to peck a quick kiss against her lips. Rose’s face scrunched as Juleka pulled away.
“Not like that,” she pouted. She scooched up a little more and reached for Juleka’s collar, twisting her fingers in the lace and pulling her closer. “Kiss me like you mean it, Juleka.”
“Er…” Juleka muttered, so intelligently, as she glanced up at Marinette and Luka. They were both watching, Marinette with wide eyes and Luka…he was biting down on a laugh, but from the way his shoulders were bobbing he was obviously not very good at hiding it. She glared at them, and he puckered his lips to blow her a kiss before winking. She groaned and looked back at Rose. “Ro, come on…they’re right there…”
“Oh, they don’t mind,” Rose huffed. “They get it – right, guys? Sometimes you just need to be kissed. Properly.”
“But she did kiss you,” Marinette said. Rose snorted.
“That was not a kiss, Marinette,” she tutted. “That was little better than a bise. That was a grandma kiss.”
“I don’t kiss Gran like that,” Juleka mumbled. Luka snorted, and Marinette frowned at him.
“What?” she asked. “You saw it. They totally just kissed.”
“But I want more,” Rose huffed. “I want slow. Romantic. I want to feel it in my toes.”
“Your…your toes?” Marinette asked, blinking stupidly at her. Rose nodded gravely.
“My toes,” she said, the very image of seriousness. She tapped a manicured nail against Juleka’s throat. “I want you to kiss me like you mean it, Juleka Rhiannon Couffaine. Like want to. Not like you’re saying hello.”
“That’s insane, Rose,” Marinette laughed, shaking her head. Behind her, Luka shrugged.
“There’s different types of kisses,” he said, like that should have been obvious. He looked back up at the couple. “She’s got a point, Jules. I mean. I don’t particularly want to see it, but she’s got a point.”
“A kiss is a kiss, isn’t it?” Marinette asked, looking up at him. His eyebrows rose, but before he could say anything Rose snorted.
“Spoken like someone who’s never been kissed,” she huffed. She wagged a finger at them as Marinette spluttered excuses at her, her face growing redder by the second. “Or at least never been kissed well.”
“Th-that’s…that’s not…I was…I’ve kissed someone!” Marinette cried, flailing just enough that her sketchbook and pencil fell to the floor. Luka’s eyebrows rose even higher, because that was news to him. She had told him before…in confidence, so it wasn’t like he was about to say anything in front of Rose and Juleka, but she had told him she’d never been kissed. Back when they were…when he’d been hoping to…
She may have lied about a lot back then (not maliciously, and not willingly – he knew that now, he did), but he was pretty sure she had never lied about that.
“…you have?” he asked, before Rose or Juleka could call her on it, and he immediately regretted it when she sat up and away from him, her entire body going stiff.
“I…I mean…not…I…” she spluttered, but then Rose was squealing and scurrying across the couch to grab her hands and bounce in front of her.
“Whaaaaaaaaaat????? Ohmigosh, Mari! When? Who??? You never told us!!!!” she cried. Marinette tried to lean away, but when that bumped her back into his arm she jerked away and closer to Rose – who just leaned in closer, still wiggling expectantly. “Mar-in-ette! You cannot hold out on us like this!”
“Rose, that’s –” Luka tried, but she just rounded on him instead.
“Was it you?” she asked, her eyes huge. “Juleka said you said you never kissed! Luka Llewellyn Couffaine, are you holding out on us?!?!?!”
…there was a vein. A little twitch, right above his eyebrow, that belied his otherwise passive expression. Marinette wasn’t facing him, so she didn’t notice it, but she would have told Rose to back off if she had. Rose, who also knew him pretty damn well and knew what that twitch meant, saw it clear as day and just…didn’t care.
Not when her ship was on the line.
“I don’t typically discuss my kissing history with my sister, but no,” Luka said. He sighed and laid a hand on Marinette’s shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. “Rose, knock it off. Can’t you see you’re making her uncomfortable?”
Can’t you see you’re making us both uncomfortable?
“But…but…!” Rose squawked, and Juleka groaned as she grabbed at Rose’s forearm and tugged her back. Rose squawked again as Juleka hauled her to her feet and tossed the remote at Luka.
“Come on, you menace,” she sighed. “Stop asking about their kissing and start worrying about ours – or do you not want me to kiss you like I mean it anymore?”
That certainly got her attention.
“No!” Rose cried, whirling around and latching onto Juleka’s arm. “Juleka, you meanie! I want smoochies! I’ll be good – I promise!”
“Then come on,” Juleka sighed, tugging her along towards their bunk. She waved at Marinette and Luka without looking. “Later, losers.”
The door closed behind them, and with the movie paused in the background an uncomfortable silence quickly settled between them. Luka looked at Marinette, but her back was to him and she still seemed…tense. After a long moment, he sighed and shoved a hand in his hair, ruffling it in frustration.
“…sorry, Marinette,” he said. “I didn’t mean…I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable.”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t answer for another long moment, and when he finally figured she wasn’t going to he bent to retrieve her sketchbook. He paused when she spoke, still bent over with his face pointed towards the floor.
“I have kissed someone before, you know,” she said quietly. Defensively. Stubbornly. He glanced up, and even at the awkward angle he could still see how red her face was. How she refused to look at him. How tears were filling her eyes and she was worrying her lower lip. She looked…she looked humiliated, but he wasn’t sure why. If it was because of how the confession had come about, or because she thought he probably thought she was lying, or…was it possible it had happened in the time since their failed attempt at dating? Was she embarrassed that he’d learned she’d kissed someone else? Was…was she ashamed of it? Or was she just upset that he’d found out this way?
…did she really think so little of him?
“In…in the suit,” she continued, glancing at him quickly before looking away. Barely able to hold his gaze for longer than a blink. “Ladybug has kissed people. I mean…Chat. She’s kissed Chat. A few times. Because of akumas.”
…oh.
Yeah.
He supposed that made sense.
“…but Marinette has never been kissed,” he said after a moment. When she kept her eyes on the back of the couch, he sat up a bit and scooted closer. Laid a hand on her knee. “You have never been kissed. Well or otherwise.”
There was something almost criminal about that. A girl like Marinette, never getting kissed the way she deserved.
…not that he had any place to say anything about that. It was partially his fault.
“I don’t see what the big deal is,” she huffed, her brow furrowing. “A kiss is just a stupid kiss. R…right?”
Her eyes darted towards him, which was maybe a mistake, because once she’d caught his gaze…
“No, Marinette,” he said softly. “A kiss is most definitely not ‘just a stupid kiss’. Kissing you…I never thought there’d be anything stupid about that.”
“Luka…” she whispered, and he smiled as he reached up to cup her cheek. He brushed a thumb beneath her eye, his smile softening when her breath caught.
“And what Juleka just did…the kiss she gave Rose…that is not how I would kiss you, given half the chance,” he said. “You deserve to be kissed so much better than that.”
It wouldn’t be quick, for one thing. There would be nothing friendly about his kiss. Those kisses would come, of course – later, with time and familiarity. Little pecks of greetings or partings or just because. But the first kiss? The kisses that immediately followed? The kisses he wanted to give her when they were alone and he could show her just how much he’d been dreaming of kissing her, of loving her? Those kisses would be slow, and exploratory, and meaningful. Those kisses…the kind of kisses that Rose had wanted, when she’d stared up at Juleka with stars in her eyes and begged to be kissed properly…he ached for those kisses.
And now she was staring at him like she knew it – like she ached for it, too – and God. It was too much. Why had he started talking about kissing with her, anyway? He was in hell. He was in absolute hell.
They weren’t like that.
He wasn’t even sure she wanted him to…be like that.
To kiss her.
At least…to kiss her beyond just…being kissed.
She swallowed, and something twisted in him as he watched her throat move. As he imagined all the little kisses he would place just there, along the slope of her neck and down, disappearing into the collar of her blazer and…
“A…a kiss is just a kiss, Luka,” she finally said, her voice quiet and thick. He swallowed, and he would swear her eyes were watching his own throat move. Maybe imagining the little kisses she could place there.
…he’d let her.
He’d so let her.
God, he wanted to wreck her. He wanted her to wreck him…
“…ok,” he said, swallowing thickly. Her eyes widened as he reached for her, and then she was crowded onto his lap as he pulled her closer and her face was right there and she was just watching him, her eyes wide and pulse racing beneath his fingertips. “You tell me there’s no difference, then.”
Because Juleka had kissed Rose like she’d been all too aware of their audience. A quick little peck, her lips barely touching Rose’s before she’d pulled away.
Except Luka knew they didn’t have an audience. Not anymore.
And he didn’t pull away.
He couldn’t.
That first kiss was…it wasn’t hesitant, because there was no hesitating when it came to kissing Marinette. There was never any hesitating with Marinette. There had been caution, and giving her time, and maybe holding back…but never hesitation. The kiss was…tentative, though. Cautious. Like he still couldn’t believe he was actually doing this – that she had actually given him, them, a chance to – and wanted to give her a chance to back out. If she wanted.
…except she didn’t. Want to. Back out, that is.
He held her close, his hand staying exactly where it was against her jaw, holding her in place – just not that tight, not yet. His lips pressed to hers, still holding back, still…and then her hand fisted in his shirt, and she sucked in a shuddering breath, and there was a sound…and then he wasn’t really interested in holding back anymore. His hand slid up and back to tangle in her cropped hair, just like he’d been dreaming of since she’d first shown up to school with her pigtails hacked off. And then she made another sound, this one a little more desperate and a little less controlled, and that was all the encouragement he needed before his arm looped around her waist and pulled her flush against him. Her hands slipped from his shoulders to wrap her arms around his neck, and she melted, sinking into him as she went absolutely boneless. The hand on her waist got bolder, sliding up to splay across her lower back, and his tongue darted out to flick against her lower lip.
Suddenly, she wasn’t all that boneless anymore. He felt her knees press into his hips as she pushed, lifting herself up – and when the hell had her hands slipped into his hair? Her fingers twisted, tugging just hard enough to tip his head back and pull a groan from his lips – lips that she quickly parted with her own as she took control of the kiss. The next sound he made was a little more moan than groan, and definitely not a sound he had ever heard escape his own mouth before, but it just encouraged Marinette to press closer. Kiss him deeper. Leave him absolutely breathless as she pushed him back into the couch, until he was gasping as he tore his mouth away.
“W-wait,” he panted, squeezing where his hands had settled on her…hips. Who the hell had given them permission to go there? When had they gone there? “Stop. Stop.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked, and God her voice. It was deep and husky and more than a bit breathless herself, and it was taking everything he had not to tackle her back onto the couch and just…keep going. “Did…am I not doing it right?”
…huh?
“What?” he croaked, blinking stupid eyes up at her. Absolutely baffled. “No. Fuck.” She giggled, and he grinned helplessly up at her. “Mari. God no. You’re doing amazing.”
“Then why did you tell me to stop?” she whined, tugging where her hands were still twisted in his hair, and fuuuuuck. He swallowed, trying to gather his quickly scattering thoughts, and shook his head. His throat was suddenly too dry.
“I thought…I thought the whole point of this exercise was to show you the difference in types of kisses,” he said, his voice deeper – rougher – than it usually was. She shivered and pressed closer, and he cocked an eyebrow at her. “You know. Let me kiss you. Let Marinette get kissed for once, instead of always being the one giving kisses.”
A hand had slipped down to her thigh, and he rubbed along it…not anxiously. He wasn’t anxious, but there was definitely a nervous sort of energy thrumming beneath his skin. His fingers twitching with an unheard song dying to get out. The need to compose, to play, to…her fingers tugged on his hair again, twisting with their own anxious energy, and he swallowed thickly as she tilted her head to look at him.
“…weren’t you?” she asked softly, and a broken little chuckle left him as he shook his head.
“I was feeling pretty damn kissed there,” he chuckled, grinning a little helplessly up at her. “Not that I’m complaining, but…”
She rolled her eyes and pulled him back to her, sealing her mouth to his – and the little mewling sound she made had him tugging her closer and pushing up into her. The hand on her thigh slipped lower, hooking around it and holding her to him – anything to get closer, to get more.
He was a little scared he wouldn’t be able to stop. Now that he’d started this. Now that he’d let himself reach for what he’d wanted for so long.
He…wasn’t entirely sure he cared, because she was gasping his name and clinging to him and encouraging him to continue like she didn’t really want him to ever stop, either.
“Luka, I don’t…o-oh…” she panted, pulling back and tucking her face against his shoulder as he turned them, laying her back against the couch and following after. Pressing her into the cushions until he could feel every wonderful, terrible, tantalizing curve along her body.
“No,” he murmured, his voice almost a growl. “I’m not done yet. We’re not done yet.
“O-ok,” she gasped, nodding. “Right. Keep going. It’s just…”
“Just what?” he breathed, skimming his nose along her cheek. A hand had found his back, and he shivered as it slipped beneath his shirt, her fingertips dancing nervously along his skin. “Mari.”
“What you said,” she huffed. He leaned away, just a bit, to frown at her. The hand that wasn’t inching its way up his back reached up to touch his face, and his eyes slipped closed as he leaned into her touch. “Luka, I don’t care who’s doing the kissing.”
He choked on a little laugh, his eyebrow lifting again as he opened his eyes to stare at her.
“Really?” he asked. “Even if it’s Ladybug kissing Chat?”
“Shut up,” she laughed, scratching lightly at his back. “I mean…with us. Me kissing you or you kissing me. I don’t care. As long as we’re kissing each other. Can…can we keep kissing each toher?”
…there had been a point to all this. Something about his stupid sister and proving a point and maybe wanting to remedy the fact that he had never kissed her, before. That she had never been kissed like she deserved, by him or by anyone else. And that probably hadn’t been the best reason to start kissing her, and they probably still had a lot they needed to talk about – and they would! They would, because now that he’d started kissing her…yeah. He didn’t care, either. As long as it was them. As long as she wanted it to be them, and to keep being them, and…later. They would talk.
Later.
Because right then…she was looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes, and kiss-bruised lips, and…he wasn’t really sure why he had stopped kissing her in the first place.
“…yeah,” he said, brushing his nose along hers before he pecked a kiss against the tip. She giggled, and he smiled before kissing her again. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
“Me, too,” she murmured, scratching lightly at his back. He groaned, and she giggled as she scratched him again. “Hey, Lu?”
“Yeah?” he sighed.
“Shut up and kiss me already,” she said, a mischievous little glint in her eyes. “Like you mean it.”
It was so ridiculous. As ridiculous as Rose saying that to Juleka, because they were Couffaines and…well. Couffaines always kissed like they meant it. He chuckled before bending back to her.
“Yeah,” he breathed, brushing his lips against hers. “Exactly like I mean it…”