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As two figures emerged from the cramped closet, the people inside the room immediately swarmed them. Felix stepped out first, sporting a vexing smile with his lips smudged a telltale red. He lightly shooed away those who circled them before extending his hand out to Kagami who followed him out, blushing softly as she tucked a strand behind her ear.
“You freaks!”
“So not very prim and proper of you two.”
They were so visibly disheveled — their skin slick with sweat and their collars rumpled as they tried to smooth their shirts — leaving no trace of their decorum from seven minutes ago.
Look at them acting shy.
Adrien huffed in irritation. He remained slumped on the floor, still sour that an entire round of the game had been wasted on a pair who never needed an excuse to make out. The two didn’t even need it like he did, but some wretched luck was clearly backing them up. Why did they even participate in the game? Had the couple sat this game out and just gone home to hook up as they’ve always done, he would’ve had a better shot at being locked up with Marinette.
Instead, he had to settle for adoring her, who, by some stroke of luck, had been sitting directly across from him. Probably due to their friends again, not that Adrien was complaining. He liked that all he had to do was look up to see her completely.
When he first agreed to come, all he really expected from this party was a chance to admire Marinette from afar — as he always did at these get-togethers — and maybe share a conversation or two. That’s it. But when Nathaniel suggested playing a game called Seven Minutes in Heaven, Adrien thought that maybe, some higher being was finally rewarding him for being Paris’s cat guardian. It’s about time his endless prayers importuned the heavens enough to soothe his longing.
Right, this was it. So how the hell had that cursed bottle managed to miss them every single time?
“Now, down to our last couple!” Marc announced, much to his disappointment. He’d have to cross whichever god he prayed to last night off his mind.
However, as the room quieted down, he caught his old classmates exchanging quick glances, wearing knowing grins he definitely didn’t miss.
Ah.
Finally, they’re up to something again. Something, as in one of those little schemes they always hatched to throw him and Marinette together, which were regrettably, more often than not, trite. It had practically become the group's tradition to set them up whenever the opportunity presented itself.
Adrien hid a grin of his own. Whatever it was this time, what right did he have to stop it?
Everybody had their eyes fixed on the bottle as it began to spin briskly. Unconsciously, Adrien looked past it, only to find Marinette like all the rest, unaware of his gaze. She had left her hair down, making her features appear gentler than ever. The way the ambient light caught her dark locks reminded him of a night sky filled with a million twinkling stars — and he couldn’t look away.
A comfortable warmth settled over him.
This was the very sight — Marinette with her hair down as she modeled her own designs — that made his world stop in that moment. It was then, when she had fuller cheeks and hair streamed a few inches down her shoulders, that he came to realize he had fallen for her, and the way she would make his heart thump was nowhere near friendly at all. It opened the eyes of the painfully dense idiot and emotionally wrecked seventeen-year-old he used to be. It has been three years, and ever since, he can’t stop thinking about her — craving her attention at every possible turn.
Watching the bottle lose its speed, Adrien squeezed the lucky charm hidden in his pocket, a handmade gift he had received from Marinette for his birthday. He hoped its magic would work this time, too, like it always did.
“Please, not us again,” Ondine suddenly griped, her hands clasped in mock prayer. “For fuck’s sake, Kim’s too huge for that cabinet.”
Kim raised an eyebrow, an impish expression crossing his face. “Too huge for that cabinet? Or for you — ”
“God, shut up!”
Laughter erupted as the two continued to bicker. Adrien chuckled lightly, still locked on the bottle as it wound down, until it eventually landed straight at… Zoe and Sabrina, seated on opposite sides of the circle.
Fuck. There goes his chance —
Before his face could even reflect his disappointment, Nino suddenly stood up, his glasses glinting with determination. Adrien blinked in confusion as his friend marched towards the center of their ring, but before he could ask what he was doing, the DJ tripped out of nowhere, falling right over the bottle.
What the…?
“Oh no!” Nino exclaimed dramatically as he ‘accidentally’ nudged the bottle while trying to stand, knocking it out of alignment until its ends pointed perfectly toward Adrien and Marinette.
“Finally!”
“Oh, yeah! Didn’t see that coming.”
“You won’t mind, right, Zoé?”
“Of course not!”
Adrien groaned at the painfully obvious ploy. Couldn’t they think of anything better?
The room erupted into obnoxious cheers, everyone truly satisfied with their ‘plan’. Leave it to their friends to come up with the shittiest and most blatant stunt known to man. Honestly, it would’ve been slightly less ridiculous if they had just shoved him and Marinette directly into the cabinet, skipping this whole nonsense entirely.
Still, despite his theatrical groaning, a spark of excitement flared in his chest. Sure, the execution was pretty fucking terrible, but he couldn’t deny that the result was exactly what he’d been wishing for all night.
Adrien turned his focus to Marinette, catching the exact moment she met his gaze with a sheepish smile, her features dusted a warm pink. Was she just embarrassed? Or maybe, like him, she was also secretly… He smiled back gently, feeling a sudden heat creep up his face. It was only when his gaze dropped to her lips that he felt his ears burn, the reality of what those next seven minutes could bring finally crashing down on him.
Seven minutes, Adrien gulped. What could possibly happen in seven minutes?
After a few more taunts and jeers, their friends eagerly shoved them into the cramped cabinet that had far less room than he had anticipated; their legs became tangled in a way that sent a thrumming jolt straight to his ribs. Fortunately, even after the doors were locked shut, Adrien was still able to see Marinette thanks to the faint beams of light spilling through the cabinet’s vents. It illuminated her upper frame just enough for him to discern her features along with her cute, mercurial expressions, and allowed him to hold himself still without accidentally bumping against her.
“Seven minutes, you dorks!” Alya yelled from the outside. “Try not to headbutt each other now!” Footsteps soon faded into the distance, indicating that the crowd had left the whole room, leaving the two of them inside the closet to their own devices.
Now, what?
What was he supposed to do? Sure, he loved the idea of being there. In fact, from the exact second the bottle first spun at the start of the game, his brain had already begun cycling through countless scenarios of how this situation would unfold. In most of them, he liked to imagine himself confidently taking the lead, swiftly caging Marinette inside his arms; while in a few, he happily entertained the idea of being entirely at her mercy.
Too bad none of those daydreams involved starting a conversation, nor knowing where to put his hands without accidentally touching her inappropriately. Inside, he could almost hear the steady tick of a clock, counting down every second he’s losing to the reign of silence.
Some shameless flirt he’d turned out to be.
A few more seconds of this, and his heartbeat would become audible too.
He cleared his throat, steadying his voice. “Seriously, I don’t know what Nino was thinking.” Except he did, and he was far more grateful than he’d like to admit. Adrien would have to dig for those classic CDs his friend had been drooling over sometime later.
“Is this really the best they could do this time?” He added.
“Pffh, right?” Marinette let a giggle slip out, the music of it pulling a matching smile from his lips. “Even Alya didn’t think of how terrible this idea is.”
His ears prickled at her words. How terrible this idea was? Oh, shit. He’d been so wrapped up in his own fantasies that it had never even crossed his mind how uncomfortable she might be feeling right now.
“Are you really fine with being stuck with me?”
“Well, I don’t exactly like being stuck in general,” she blurted out, causing Adrien to freeze. Great. Just great. He was just about to start rolling out his apologies, but she cut him off before the first sorry could leave his lips.
“But since it’s with you, I honestly don’t mind.”
She smiled brightly as she said it, knocking his mind blank. It’s with him, so she doesn’t mind? What’s that supposed to mean? His thoughts spun out, reading into her words way more than he should have. Did she… also secretly love being stuck with him?
“But for real, it’s way too tight in here,” Marinette whispered. “You’re not bothered by me moving around, right?” She shifted her weight, but even in the dim light, Adrien could tell her new position was barely different from before; her knees tucked to her chest, fitting perfectly between his parted thighs.
“Not at all. Just try not to kick me,” he teased, letting out a chuckle. They were basically on top of each other, close enough that the slightest move would have them hugging, and close enough that he could map out the contours of her face, even in the dark. Nevertheless, the mood stayed light. He turned his head to the side, casually running a hand down his jaw in a mock-serious flex before adding, “especially my face. It pays the bills, you know.”
“Now, now. Don’t give me ideas,” she chided, and he could hear the unmistakable smirk in her voice.
Adrien cracked one of his own. “My fans would burn you at the stake.”
“Worth the pain, I’d say.”
“Mm, yeah?”
He kept his mouth open, but any witty retort completely died the moment his gaze unconsciously slid to her lips — his train of thought drifting straight to them.
“You’d be much better off kissing me,” Adrien murmured in a daze, only to freeze a second later as his mind finally caught up to his own words, his eyes snapping wide in pure horror.
Well, fuck.
What the hell’s wrong with his mouth? An agonizing silence stretched between them, killing any desperate hope that Marinette hadn't heard him. What he wouldn’t give for the floor to bury him.
After a heavy pause, Marinette deliberately coughed. “Oh, right. That part almost slipped my mind.”
Adrien’s ears prickled at what he had just heard. Did that mean… he was the only one fazed by this whole thing? Adrien felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He’d been letting himself get carried away by his thoughts, yet she hadn't considered it at all — she even almost forgot about it!
“But, do we?” She spoke again. “Do we really have to? You know, we can just sit here and do nothing.”
She made a sensible point, much to his dismay.
“I mean, what can they even do if we don’t want to kiss?”
“Speak for yourself,” Adrien huffed, his face slowly twisting into a frown.
“What? What do you mean?”
“Whatever. What I meant was, sure, if you didn’t want to. That’s fine.” He made sure to emphasize the word, with bitterness lacing his tone. If he keeps this attitude up, he’ll definitely give himself away. Oh well, so be it. Ever since his earlier screw-up, whatever sliver of shame he had left was thrown out the window. Not that he had a lot to begin with.
“What I didn’t want?” Marinette sneered before speaking again, “you think I’m wussing out?”
“Uh, no? Never said that.” Adrien crossed his arms. ”I only said the fact — you were the one who didn’t want to kiss me.”
This time, she let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Hah! Well, I’m sorry for assuming you wouldn’t want to make out with your friend.”
Adrien wanted to choke the idiot he used to be.
With a sigh, he leaned a fraction closer. “Don't put words in my mouth, Marinette.” He countered, “Sounds like you’re just making excuses because you’re chickening out.”
“And what, exactly, would I be scared of?” Marinette tilted her chin up.
“You tell me.” He pointedly lowered his tone as he brought his face even closer. “Hm? Scared you’re gonna feel something?”
He could practically feel the heat of her glare that seemed to ask are-you-challenging-me? She was going to get genuinely pissed if he kept this up, but damn, Marinette displays such adorable expressions when she’s annoyed. The sight of her pout swept all consequences aside. Her brows were also knitted, and he had to fight the urge to smooth them out.
Marinette kept glaring, this time something seemed to weigh on her mind. Oh? He also loved this part — the back-and-forth, and the fact that every second she spent thinking of a clever comeback was a second she spent thinking about him. Adrien beamed at the thought, until the seconds dragged on a bit too long. Just what was taking her so lo —
“Let’s kiss, then.”
…
What…?
Adrien’s breath hitched at Marinette’s words, said with utter conviction. He hung on those two words: let’s kiss, his heart picking up the pace at hearing a sentence straight out of his dreams. Had he somehow fallen asleep inside the cabinet? Was it even possible? He stared at Marinette with wide eyes, so close to him — no dream of his could ever replicate that kind of boldness and allure.
This was happening. His provocation, by some miracle, worked.
“You’re right. We’re just friends, so it shouldn't be a big deal,” she affirmed with a shrug. “If I were you, I’d worry about myself. It’d be a shame to eat your own words.”
True, it wasn't his words he’d want to eat. Heat rushed to Adrien’s face. God, he wanted to smack himself for having such a shameless mind.
“Hey, why are you just staring?” Marinette’s smile and confidence beamed more under his silence. “Looks like you’re the chicken here.”
Hah? He grinned.
“‘Cause you think I’d be an egg-cellent pecker?”
She simply rolled her eyes. “Because you cooped up suddenly. Stop being so stiff.”
An idea flashed in Adrien's mind. Without hesitation, he propped an arm beside her head and closed the remaining distance. “Like this?”
She hummed, “close.”
Before he could raise an eyebrow, Marinette anchored her hands against his shoulders and threw her weight forward, forcing him back against the cold wood.
“But I meant like this.”
Marinette loomed over him, and now he was the one pinned. Adrien’s head spun as he looked up at the daring confidence radiating from her, so bright it set his entire body burning. The gap between them narrowed until he could feel the uneven puff of her warm exhales against his skin, mirroring the rhythm of his own pulse.
He was left with barely any room to breathe, and even less room for his judgement to occupy any.
“Marinette,” Adrien stilled. “What are you doing?”
Her hands cupped his face, and a shiver rippled through his flesh the moment he felt the pad of her thumb trace his lips.
“Playing the game. What else?”
His world narrowed down to just Marinette until her lips met his, her warmth seeping into him. The undeniably soft sensation instantly wiped any remaining thought, leaving only the desperate need to mold his own lips into hers.
Just like that, there was nothing separating him from heaven.
Adrien snaked his arms around her waist, his hands pressing into the small of her back to anchor her to him while making sure that she never let go. They stayed just like that, their lips touching but their mouths remaining closed — a tantalizing, agonizing tease of a kiss.
He didn’t want to seem ungrateful, but holy mother of fuck, did playing the game meant her playing with him?
And yet, he melted into the sensation nonetheless. So soft. The most he’d expected was to hold her hand, truly, but now that they were here, a simple taste was nowhere near enough, and he’d genuinely lose his wits if he couldn’t have more. Adrien tightened his grip on her, right on the cusp of forcing the kiss open — then the warmth on his lips vanished. Feeling utterly confused, his mind scrambled watching Marinette slowly back away from him.
Wait, huh?
But they weren’t done yet, were they?
“There,” said Marinette, yet Adrien remained locked on her lips, still slightly parted. He bet it would be absolutely incredible to slide his tongue inside, feel her heat, and more. “Wasn’t as hard as I tho — ”
His brow furrowed.
“If you’re gonna kiss me, you should do it right.”
Adrien didn’t hesitate. He immediately grabbed the back of Marinette’s head and closed the brief gap between them as his lips crashed into hers a second time, demanding instead of waiting for a response. This time, he took the lead. He parted her lips using his own and let his tongue slip inside, slick and desperate, before guiding the angle of her head with a hand to keep their noses from bumping. Nothing would ruin this moment.
Sliding his other free hand down to the curve of her waist, he hauled her directly onto his lap with an effortless tug. The sudden shift forced Marinette to settle directly onto his thighs, prompting her to straddle him. He hovered over her, trapping her completely in his space so that she’d have no choice but to look up at him, and that she’d never slip away. As her torso pressed flush against his, Adrien caught her soft gasps against his mouth — and, holy hell, did it turn him on more — sending him to bury a fist into her top, stretching out the fabric at her lower back as he pulled heavily.
Finally, after a moment of him taking the lead, he felt her hands loop around his neck, and he couldn't help but grin between their kisses.
“You're making it impossible f’me to pull away, Marinette.”
Marinette simply chased his lips again, so eager for him. He kept his hold steady, knowing full well that stopping wasn’t even on her mind. He needed more of her. All of her. Threading his fingers through the tousled strands of her hair, which were growing messier and clumpier by the second, he grabbed tight to tilt her head up, forcing the kiss deeper. Ah. A sharp wave of pleasure hit him as he guided her exactly to his liking.
Her vaguely sweet scent flooded his nose, and the closet became filled with wet sounds of their tryst. A perfect melody, Adrien thought; no piano piece could rival this.
Every sensation brought him pure euphoria.
She was sweeter than everything he had ever tasted, and sweeter than anything he had ever imagined.
After a moment of hesitation, which was really an internal debate about whether breathing was even worth pulling away for, it was Marinette who finally broke the kiss. For a minute, they simply leaned into one another, letting their pounding hearts fill the silence. It was ridiculous; he’d always been confident in his stamina since none of his past flings ever left him running out of air (granted, he didn’t have many as he’d dedicated everything to winning over a certain baker’s attention the moment his feelings clicked, but still). But here he was, gasping for air like he’d just run a freaking marathon.
That said, he just kissed Marinette. The lady of his dreams, now comfortably tucked in his arms, head resting against his chest. Though lately, now that they’re in college, those dreams had turned far more fleshed out — shamefully obscene, on some nights — the moment he realized his feelings. Marinette, bright-eyed Marinette, with that flowy dark hair that he’d unconsciously searched for in every brief relationship, unaware of what he wants like the blind fool he is. None of those lasted, of course. Not when their hair couldn’t replicate her exact blue sheen under the sunlight, the way she jumbles up her words when flustered, her fresh pastry scent, her compassion and determination —
No, not when they weren’t Marinette.
A slow, cocky grin spread over Adrien’s face. “Must’ve been tough resisting my charm for so long,” he muttered through shallow breaths, “especially this face.”
“As if,” Marinette scoffed, pushing herself up using his chest for support but making no move to get off him. “Please, I’ve seen better.”
“Sure.” He shrugged, his gaze dropping to her plush lips, still wet and thoroughly kissed, before flicking back to her eyes. “Bet you’ve never tasted anything better, though.”
She gave his chest a few playful pats. “You did well enough, I’ll give you that,” she quipped, letting out an amused puff.
His lips quivered slightly. “Well enough.”
“Uh-huh.”
His hands trailed the plump curve of her hips, his thumbs rubbing slow, lazy circles. "You having fun teasing me?”
“I would never,” she drawled. Marinette feigned a wide-eyed, childlike confusion, even tilting her head. “You were pretty good. Don’t you think so, too?”
Pretty good. Two basic words shouldn’t have bothered him, but god did they get under his skin, rubbing his pride — which, admittedly, grew sensitive every now and then — raw. It was a direct scrape against his ego both as a high-fashion model, once hailed as Paris’s golden boy, and as Chat Noir. Especially as Chat Noir.
“If I did any better, you’d still be trying to recover your breath, let alone talk right now.”
Her innocent expression held strong until her lips curved into a cheeky smirk. “But you didn’t.”
This girl, really…
“You,” He muttered, hands moving up to palm her sides in a firm grip, “are so stubborn.”
“And you’re annoying.”
An amused gleam danced in his eyes. “That didn’t stop you from kissing me.”
“Still doesn’t make you less annoying.”
Touché.
His grip clamped tight against her waist, pinning her right where she was — perfectly on top of him. “I can be very, very pleasant when I want to be,” he purred. His touch began climbing up, feeling her figure; one pressed heavy against her back, the other wound through her slightly disheveled hair, coiling the ends around his knuckles. A coy smile touched his face. “But I’ll need a little push,” he added, voice dropping an octave.
“You’re gonna have to try harder than earlier, Dupain-Cheng.”
Leaving her hair, his hand drifted higher until it wrapped around the back of Marinette’s neck, finding it warm and damp with sweat. She shuddered, a sudden twitch to turn away dying uselessly against his hold.
Someone’s got a sensitive neck.
“Harder?”
“Surely you have more in you.”
He could’ve pushed harder, said more, succumbed to the needy impulse raking at him and begged if that’s all it would take — hell, he wanted to — but Adrien didn’t want to look any more desperate —
“Finally getting serious, are we?” Marinette inclined her head, shifting closer until she grazed the shell of his ear. He gulped, his turn to flinch when she whispered, “Then why don’t you teach me your ways, Agreste?”
Not yet, at least.
But he knew he wouldn’t last long. Not with her, no.
For a split second, he caught her eye and saw the same desire staring right back, before finally claiming her lips. He kissed her in a jagged rhythm — press, pull back a few centimeters, then press again, and again — and Marinette met him breath-for-breath until they fell into a sloppy cadence.
“They’re going to eat us alive once we get out of here,” she rasped, though a hand was already caressing his face while the other rested in the hollow of his neck.
Two people screwing inside a cabinet? Of course they would. Even so, the thought of getting caught didn't faze him at all — even welcomed it. Let them see. Put it in the Ladyblog, too. So everyone would know that the polka-dotted — and on some days, pigtailed — cutie from the fashion department (or whatever her nickname was; she has too many) is very much thriving in a secure, fulfilling romance with her very dashing man.
He grunted. “Focus.”
“Impatient much.”
“Would you rather I take my time, then?” Gone was the cockiness that laced his tone, replaced by a serious one, if not that of someone crazily in love. “Just say the word, love. We have all night to ourselves.”
They certainly have. Pretty sure they were long past the seven-minute mark, yet not a single footstep could be heard in the room where the cabinet was. Clearly, it was a setup, courtesy of Nino, or Alya, or maybe even both, that everyone had gone along with. ‘Giving them the space they need’ was what they liked to say after all, tiresomely so. But hey, it's working out perfectly now.
And he almost thought the group’s mini plan ended with Nino’s dumb ruse earlier; he’s really thankful his friends did not let him down.
But ultimately, it’s all up to the two of them to make the best of it. Rationally speaking, they should’ve knocked on the door, shouted for their friends, and gotten out of this cramped mess to move somewhere entirely more civilized. There was a nearby hotel just across the road, offering an air-conditioned room with a soft bed that would be more than enough for the night. Better yet, his place was only a few streets down with both Nathalie and his driver away — assuming they could manage to keep their hands to themselves the whole walk. But something about how unconventional this setup was made him excited (and, well, aroused). It was the kind of behavior his father would disown him for when he was alive.
To hell with everything else, all the formalities would have to wait until later in the morning because nothing mattered more than her now at the mercy of his grasp, reacting to his every touch. The beads of sweat trickling down — which would normally disturb him — only heightened the heat and slicked the friction of their rubbing skins.
Adrien nipped at her lower lip before releasing her mouth with a wet pop. He trailed a path of soft, feverish kisses across her face, lingering along the slope of her cheeks to behind her jaw, chiseled over the years. After getting enough with it, which was far more addicting than he’d expected, he urged her head back with a gentle tug until the delicate length of her neck was fully exposed. Hovering over her, he felt her muscles tense in anticipation as he dragged his lips down to the sensitive dip of her throat, with both her hands at the back of his head clawing into his hair and nape, demanding more. And who is he to deny her? He shifted seamlessly between the crook of her neck and her collarbone, sucking fiercely at her skin, a pattern of flushed, telltale bruises forming.
“Go easy — mmfh, hah, I don’t want to wear a scarf tomorrow.”
Adrien hummed against her skin. Nothing short of a perfect excuse to travel even lower, to a part of her body he’d always wanted to touch, never so much as looked at. He was getting itchy with the fabric bunching up under his fingers anyway. Not like her top would stay on much longer.
The others were probably thinking that they were still struggling to even touch; little did they know, his hands were already working their way under Marinette’s shirt.
“Ahn… mngh.”
Marinette let out puffy sighs every now and then, and he felt her fingers all over him, some digging into his shoulders and the rest gripping his hair tightly as she pressed him even more to her body. His hands moved akin to his tongue, exploring farther, lower, and unhurried, mapping the shape of her figure to engrave it into his very fingertips.
Well, since their friends even went so far as to lock them together, it would be disappointing if their efforts only ended in a kiss, wouldn’t it?