Marichat interlude! While reading about the real hidden apartment inside of the Eiffel tower I was inspired to write a little more instead of jumping to the next pair. In my headcanon I feel like Adrien/Chat is the kind of person who would be able to speak multiple languages besides French and Chinese, Spanish being a specialty because it's one of the three romance languages. Who knows. So enjoy and look foward to some Adrienette next :)
Warning: Full M rating on this one, though I'm saving the catastrophic stuff for the last chapter. Haha.
Time is the devil, and waiting his hell.
Chat Noir counts the days one by one, a prisoner in an intangible cell of his own invention.
"We're going to go visit my Uncle in China. I'll be back in six days," Marinette had sighed. "That's less than a week, kitty."
"That's too long." He'd whined and wound himself about her in a tangle of black and the rosy mink fabric of pajamas.
"It'll fly by. You'll see. It's not as though you'll die the minute I step out of France."
The devious cat sighed dramatically. "I die everytime I leave your side, Princess." And though Marinette simply huffed at the playful wink that followed, she'd responded to the hold upon her waist by tightening the grip she had on his own.
"It's fine." Marinette- princess, seamstress, seductress- promised softly. "I'll just bring you back to life when I get back."
And so he'd held her, pretty features aglow in dim lamp-light as the scent of her embalmed them both. Until pats to his hair and strokes to her chin drew them together... and their lips apart.
Chat Noir had waited patiently (feelingly oddly more canine than feline all the while). He'd known days to blur into an inseparable mass of activity, but these seemed determined to drag and crawl and embed their individuality into his aching heart. Even the usual akuma-possesed villains declined to make an appearance. Which was fortunate, he supposed, but also gave him nothing to do but prowl longingly.
Waiting for his Princess was an unrelenting agony. The broken melody that he imagined would echo if he ran his claws across a harp and watched each string snap apart. It wasn't until the fifth day that it began to evolve into anticipation, an excitement that sat in his belly like a flock of purified butterflies. By the sixth and final day it had fermented into an incurable ailment that warmed his blood. An urge. And electric itch on his flesh.
The date of Marinette's return finally arrives.
As soon as the day begins to melt away in a puddle of coral and orchid over the horizon Chat Noir darts across Paris like a shooting star. As he scales and bounds the night begins to shroud him. His shortness of breath isn't from physical effort, but the shallow exhalations of exitement that he can only barely contain. It's been awful without her. Boring. A black and white world.
The balcony he knows so well awaits the silent tread of his feet as he reaches her. Opens the door. Inhales. Sees raven hair and adorable macaron printed sweatpants. Aquamarine irises as she turns to face him.
"I'm home, kitty cat!"
Fireworks.
Chat holds his arms wide open and feels home rush into him. Wholeness pour over his heart. "I missed you." She laughs simply, as if it were the easiest feat. Marinette smells like lillies and spice and chamomile. The purr in his throat conveys how much he likes the newness of it
"Put a jacket on, Princess." The dark hero murmurs into her silky hair.
"Why? Are we going somewhere?"
"If you'd like."
"If I say yes will you unglue yourself from me?"
"Only minimally."
That giggle. Spun sugar.
"Alright. Give me a moment."
Marinette moves like a dancer, he swears. Such long, toned legs should be illegal for anyone but him to admire. A navy parka secures her upper body that's currently clothed in a simple white shirt and a mint bralette playing peekaboo along the hems. Chat's nocturnal eyesight misses no detail.
"Before I forget!" She decides suddenly and nearly trips on her way to a drawer. After a moment of rummaging she faces him with hands clasped suspiciously behind her back. "I got you a souvenir." The feline approaches cupped palms to find... another feline. A small keychain of a beckoning cat, black and gold and eternally smiling.
"You're a bad luck cat, so I got you a good luck one. If you don't like it I can-"
He snatches the trinket and lets it dangle before his eyes. It's heavier than expected and quite shiny. It's possible that the little creature is carved from onyx or polished stone, but it could just as well be plastic and he'd adore it all the same
"I love it. You can't take Little Noir back. He belongs to me now."
A delicate brow rises incredulously. "Little Noir?"
"My lucky counterpart." Chat grins as he waves the keychain languidly before tucking it into a pocket.
"Do... you really like it? You don't have to pretend."
"I finally have something to keep that will always remind me of you, Marinette. Of course I like it."
She believes him.
And then looks at him with wide eyes as he tells her to wrap her arms around his neck and hold tight.
No, he won't drop her. They won't fall. Where are they going? She'll just have to wait and see.
Marinette amazes him even more with peals of laughter that ring like a bell. "This is insane!" She declares as he catapults them across buildings with his silver staff. It's like having a cloud strapped to his back, his precious girl's weight. The night air is cool and sweet on their faces as he approaches their destination-
"The Eiffel tower?" Marinette asks against his ear. Her breath is warm as it sends a chill up his spine.
He lets his pole touch the ground and pulls her off into the air, crouching to clutch at it with only the soles of his feet and settling her onto his thigh.
"You aren't scared?" Chat Noir asks as a breeze plays between them.
"No. You won't let anything happen to me. And this view is beautiful."
The parisian glow of city lights surrounds Marinette like a halo. The polished black of his leather gleams in the night. He leans his head towards her and croons. "Absolutely gorgeous," in accented drawl.
"Wait, you speak english?" His lap-warmer inquires with some shock.
"Among other things. To be honest my strongest foreign language is spanish at the moment."
"Say something to me. In spanish, I mean. Please?"
He smiles, unable to deny her anything before purring softly:
"Sus ojos el cielo
La luna en su piel
La noche en su pelo
Y labios de miel"
The way her head tilts in question is absolutely endearing. "What's that mean though? I can't understand it, silly kitty."
"It means 'Your eyes are the sky, the moon on your skin, the night in your hair, and your lips made of honey."
Was it a foolish thing to say? Chat nearly swallows his heart as Mari's expression grows blank, and then wide eyed before she leans in very carefully to press her mouth to his. Chat Noir wonders is all of the world beneath them can see it happen. If Paris is watching him fall in love.
"Am I hurting you?" Marinette asks as limbs begin to shift.
"No. But there's something I want to show you."
And that is how the pair find themselves covertly scaling the side of perhaps the most famous tower in the world.
Revealing the third floor to be their destination, Chat Noir quickly undoes a lock with the flick of his claw and squirrels them away inside.
Inside.
Oh.
"Is this-?"
"The apartment built into the tower by Eiffel himself."
"Won't we get... I don't know, a life sentence, if we're caught here?"
Chat chuckles richly, waving his claws around as explanation. "Took care of that. I'll just let the Mayor know that I happened to come across a security flaw tomorrow. No harm done."
Marinette sees a world of strung lights curling around her like half-opened flowers, plush blankets lain across the historic carpeting of the secret home. The chairs and decor are rustic but charming. She can't help but marvel at how absolutely inpossible it seems for someone to have made themselves a haven tucked into the very symbol of France's city of love.
"Come, Princess." Chat falls into his customary bow and then motions at the nest he's made on the ground.
Slowly, as if she can't be sure if this is a dream, Marinette follows. Sheds her jacket and joins him on the mismatched fabrics at their feet. They splay themselves and giggle and make false snow angels in a world all their own.
"Did you miss me this much Chat?" His princess asks with a smile.
"I missed you pawfully. Promise." He chortles when she hits him playfully, knowing his puns are by far the easiest way to rile her up.
"Ugh. Me too. So much." Blue eyes peer up at the ceiling. "This feels familiar. Maybe I'm having de ja vu."
"Have you been laying with other cats on blankets lately?"
"No." Delicate hands take hold of him as Mari rolls over to face him. "Just been in another country pining for a stray who comes and goes."
"Stray?"
"You're right, excuse me. A distinguished alley cat."
"What did you think about?" Chat asks softly.
"Meaning?"
"Did you think about me holding you?" Chat embraces her gently.
"Y-yes."
"Telling you how beautiful you are?"
"Maybe." Marinette giggles and then quiets as he brings his face closer to her level.
"Dream of my kisses?"
Eyes become lidded as they hold each other close. Her breath is mere inches away, her pretty mouth...
She whispers. "Yes."
The word bleeds magic into the night.
Chat Noir sits up, cradling the most wonderful person he's ever known in the width of his lap. Pressing wind chilled lips to Marinette's collarbone with a silky growl. "So cold!" She squeaks as he pulls back.
"Warm them for me then, Princess."
A dam of yearning overflows. He kisses. She sighs. Chat suckles, and nips, and pulls back to free a moan of his name into the air. Touching her still feels like a forbidden ritual. Her tiny waist, the perky rise of her breasts... clawed fingers knead and pinch softly until a sharp cry unlike any she's made before causes him to clamp and tug in reflex. It only serves to amplify the pleasured call as Marinette begins to undulate against him.
Friction becomes fire trapped between their bodies. It's still so new and yet the rhythm is embedded deep within them in some place that they feel but never quite know. "Marinette." The black cat grits with a groan as her hips rut and slide against the whole of him, the heat between her legs a lascivious invitation.
"Do you want this?"
He looks up at her.
Oh. Oh. Oh.
Disheveled strands of hair, heaving chest, darkened cheeks. Lust-glazed eyes, muscles slack, pink lower lip licked without thought. Marinette looks debauched and he hasn't even had her yet. She nods with a sharp little moan as he bucks into her.
"Tell me."
"T-tell you what?"
Leaf-green sclera seem to glow as Chat burries his fingers into her thick hair, the other tracing patterns of love along her neck. "That you want me to make love to you here, in the sky, until you forget you ever left me."
The smile that crosses her features is unexpected. Awing. Everything.
"Make love to me then, my prince."
Her prince.
Chat Noir knows without a doubt that he's fallen for her all over again. Learns that it feels like trying to encapsulate a cyclone in a jar, the inevitable burst of shards piercing his heart in quick succession like a round of bullets.
Her wishes become his command as he sets to her, moth to flame.
A roughness wrought by need edges his movements, his touches, his words. Her shirt is yanked, soft mint colored straps edged over her shoulders by ravenous teeth. The poor opacity of the fabric only serves to make Chat want her more; he can see her nipples hardening into tight points of need. With a bit of coaxing he is able to remove the delicate cage and then her pants as well. Marinette follows him to the ground where he spoons her close, her back pressing to the warmed resistance of leather.
A princess cries out as hands sear her body with desire. One at her front and the other caressing along the length of her as her back arches to feel the culprit against her backside. So hot, and hard, and burning.
"Chat... Chat, please!" She begs as rough breaths press to the shell of a pierced ear and sharpened nails skate against pale inner thigh.
"I wonder if all I've done is corrupt you Princess." Chat confesses to her. "But then... I see you this way and I can't help but like it. Am I really who you love?" The last time he'd asked she hadn't answered with words. He needs them this time, he thinks as he lays insecutity bare. It's a shivering thing that Marinette doesn't know she could easily fracture.
Marinette faces with him with a tender look that gleams in the pits of her eyes. Traces the line of his jaw with her fingers. The bridge of his nose. Curve of his lips. Whispy points of his lashes.
"I love you, Chat Noir."
"Even though you don't know all of me?"
Something crosses her face- guilt? Fear? Hesitation?- but the smile that replaces it is sincere.
"I love all of you, silly kitty. Even the parts I don't get to see. I know you have your reasons for keeping if a secret. But if I love this much of you already... I look foward to loving the rest, too. I'll cherish it."
Chat Noir adores her in that moment. Wants to unravel her, and himself, and twine everything together so that Marinette can feel the extent of it in her every cell. Instead he settles for removing his outfit in a hushed flourish and pressing skin to skin as close as he possibly can. This time Mari is the one that begins to fumble against him, inpatient little fingers driving him mad. At some point she kicks off her last shred of clothing, and he's sheathed and-
He presses.
She sighs.
He sinks.
They groan.
This is the safest Chat has ever felt, with mind wrapped in bliss and body wrapped in Marinette's. She pulls him into depths he had no idea a person could touch. Places he wants no one else to ever explore with her. It's only their second time, he thinks as the sound of their movements fills the heated air, thick loud and luscious. But it feels like the first, and hundreth, and last. Like Marinette has never not been his.
Everything starts to ache and spark as Chat Noir is yanked down for an unexpected kiss that forces him to drink down Marinette's strangled notes of completion. Just the sight of it- her eyes fluttering and legs wrapped tightly around him- makes joy focus into a blaze that ravages his body in a way he can't contain.
He bursts. Dies a little death. Is blind to the world until he opens his eyes and finds himself pressed to her heart.
"Hear that?" Marinette mutters weakly. Lovingly.
He does.
The beat of it hasn't changed...
In the distance, the devil draws closer.
Soon.
Thanks for the love, bugs! *heart*