Hazily blinking down the road from the park one day, Tikki muttered something about apologizing to Alya. Somehow appearing on her balcony after an Akuma attack, Tikki said Chat Noir helped her home. Returning to class with a gap of memory blank, Tikki divulged it had something to do with Adrien.
There came a knock. Marinette checked her trapdoor below. "Maman?" No one. Because no one's home? She thought. They left to deliver an order. Knock again. Above? Marinette opened her balcony door.
Chat Noir dropped inside. "Hey."
Her eyebrow scrunched together. "Hi?"
Whatever she planned to say next was lost in a kiss. Struggling for good footing atop her bed, Marinette couldn't comprehend the situation to even pose a question. But there was the blaringly obvious—
He tripped her. Purposely. Hitting the bed knocked out what little breath she had left, but with what remained she glared up at the cat, and asked, "what are you—!?"
His heavy lidded gaze hovering closer allowed a deep rooted confusion to take up residence in every cell in her body. He wants her. Given only a second, she looked to Tikki, who shrugged apologetically then hid her eyes from what would follow.
Oh, that bug is getting words.
Whatever happened... Marinette needed to straighten this out. Now.
Their lips reunited. And she fully intended to yank his faux ear for a talk.
Then he bit her lower lip, pressure agonizingly precise, and she melted. Instead sinking her fingers into his hair. Dragging nails along his scalp, encouraging him along. Messaging at his own pace, Marinette drowned in the rhythmic tempo of her heartbeat singing his every move praise, missing her own moan until after he pulled away.
"Wow."
That's her line.
"A-any reason you're showing off lip tricks?" Not that she's complaining. At the moment...
He pecked the corner of her mouth. "It might be-" cheek. "-a budding addiction of mine." He followed down to her neck. And licked.
"Hey!" She yelped. scooting away.
He frowned. "That's not right."
"Who taught you how to kiss?"
"You."
Marinette attempted to hide her distress. "Me?"
"My first kiss," he distantly reminisced. "In the park." Newly determined, he sat up, tail curling. "Speaking of, I asked a friend. Random acts of kissing doesn't happen."
"You asked?" Her heart squeezed. "About me?"
"Not specifically."
She scrubbed a hand down her face. "Thank goodness."
"So?"
"Uh," she sat up. "Right." Her eyes darted about. She kissed him. She kissed him. Tikki didn't explain enough, how many of those yarrow trances involved lip to lip contact—
Alya!
Oh god, Alya.
No wonder she's been such a mess. And they haven't addressed it! What could she possibly be thinking?
"Marinette?"
"Practice!" Marinette blurted. "I, uh, wanted to practice... kissing. I mean, who better to ask for help than Paris' own hero?" She forced a laugh, anything but smiling, and a touch desperate. "It is okay with you... right?"
"Of course!" He smiled and she wanted to shoot herself. In the face. "I've been wanting to try it out more."