#chrwrites

The first time it happened was purely an accident. It was unintentional. Luka had just been having a tough week, and was really stressed out, and he’d been carrying all of that stress in his shoulders – so Marinette had done what any kind, considerate girlfriend with a passing knowledge of massages would do.

She’d offered him a backrub.

And it had been perfectly innocent. Luka was tense, and she’d wanted him to release some of that tension. So she’d laid him down on his bed, crawled up next to him, and began kneading the palms of her hands into his painfully tight shoulders. She hadn’t even had him take his shirt off – there had been no ulterior motive, honestly!

Except…

Maybe two minutes in…

His head had flopped to the side, his cheek resting on the arms bent over his pillow, and…moaned.

She didn’t even think he’d realized he’d done it.

Her hands had stilled against his back all the same, freezing in place as he melted against his mattress. She watched, wide-eyed, as his brow furrowed. He popped open an eye and glanced back at her, frowning.

“Why’d you stop?” he asked. She swallowed thickly and forced a smile, shaking her head as she bit her lip and pressed her hands back into his shoulders.

“N-nothing,” she said, her cheeks warming as he laid his head back down. “Just relax, ok?”

“O…oooooh,” he moaned, pressing his face into his bicep as she continued to work. She nearly slipped, her hands pushing a bit harder then she meant to in her shock – not that he seemed to mind. “God, you’re good at this…”

“Th-thank you,” she squeaked, and once again he was popping open an eye to glance at her, but she just smiled and continued the massage. And he just dropped his head back against his arms, moaning again as she worked out a particularly tense spot, and she was definitely not getting turned on by that, no way, no how, no…

“Oh my God, Marinette, what the hell are you doing to my brother?” Juleka’s disgusted voice came from the door, and Marinette squeaked as she leapt away from Luka and flattened herself against the wall. Luka’s eyes were open again and glaring at his sister, who just glared back from the door. Beside her, Rose was silently squealing into her fists. “Fucking gross. In my own room.”

“My room,” Luka said, as if they didn’t share and that fact needed clarifying. He nodded towards her side. “That half’s yours.”

“I-I-I was just giving him a m-massage!” Marinette rushed out. “B-because he’s so tense!”

“He didn’t sound tense,” Juleka sniffed. She grabbed Rose’s hand and pulled her from the room. “C’mon, Rose. We don’t need to be here for this. Disgusting.”

“Have fun, you two!” Rose called, and Marinette groaned as she dropped back against the wall. She cracked open an eye when she heard Luka snickering, and she glanced down to find he was watching her, his eyes dancing in delight. She could tell he was smiling, even though his mouth was pressed against his bicep to muffle his laughter. She lightly kicked at his side, though that just made him laugh more.

“Hey, darning?” he asked after a long moment, after they were certain the others weren’t coming back. He reached out and curled his fingers around her ankle, rubbing soothing circles along the top of her foot. “Can…can you keep going? I was really enjoying that.”

“Actually, you know what?” she said, her voice a little higher and faster than normal. She cleared her throat and slapped a too-bright smile on her face. “I think I would like some coffee.”

When he lifted his head and looked at her through half-lidded eyes, her heart almost stopped entirely. It was almost enough to make her rethink her plan – almost. She swallowed and looked down, her cheeks warming under his gaze. She was eighteen now, damn it. A legal adult. She could handle something as simple as having sex with someone without letting feelings get in the way.

…she hoped.

“One coffee, coming up,” he said, grabbing his own mug before heading to the counter along the wall.

“Th-thanks,” she said, wincing at her stutter. She cleared her throat, and he hummed in response before taking a sip of his own coffee.

“So what brings you over, Ma-Ma-Marinette?” he asked, reaching into the cabinet for another mug. She rolled her eyes at his gentle teasing and took a deep, steadying breath. It was now or never. “Not that I’m not happy to see you – I’m always happy to see –”

“I want to lose my virginity,” she said in a rush. The mug slipped from his fingers and fell to the counter, bouncing off the ledge before it smashed on the floor.

“O-ok?” he asked. He almost sounded like he was choking. His back was to her, but she could see his fingers flexing as they gripped the counter. His shoulders had become suddenly tense, his arms stiff as he leaned forward.

“And I want you to help me do it,” she continued. Her voice was steadier this time, firmer. More certain.

“…o-ok?” he repeated, and he was definitely choking that time. She bit her lip and looked down at her hands. She picked at her thumb while she waited for him to respond. When it seemed like he wouldn’t, she looked back up to find he was cleaning up the broken mug. His back was still to her.

“Luka?” she called. She cleared her throat when her voice came out too quiet. He stopped picking up shards of mug. “It would…be kinda great if you said something.”

“Sorry,” he sighed, dropping the pieces of mug he’d been picking up and bringing his hands up to rub at his face. “Processing.”

“There’s not much to process,” she said with a (slightly nervous) laugh.

“There’s a hell of a lot to process, Marinette,” he bit back, and she winced at his tone. She hadn’t expected him to sound…angry. “Jesus Christ. I have not had enough coffee for this.”

“Ok, trying not to be hurt,” she laughed weakly. He slapped his hands on his knees and pushed himself up, forgetting the broken mug and turning to lean on the counter across from her. He folded his hands together and hung his head, taking a few deep breaths. His hands were so tense his knuckles were blanching.

“You want to have sex,” he said, his head still down and eyes closed. She nodded, and when she realized he wouldn’t be able to see that she cleared her throat.

“Yes,” she said firmly.

“With me,” he continued.

“Yes,” she said again. He looked up, an utterly blank and unreadable expression on his face. She would almost say guarded, except there was nothing for Luka to be guarded about.

“…why?” he asked. He sounded absolutely baffled. She blinked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“Um…” she started, trying not to laugh again. How had this become so awkward? It wasn’t supposed to be awkward. It was just Luka. It was supposed to be straightforward, simple, and easy. It was supposed to be…Luka. “Why sex or why you?”

“Yes,” he said. She raised her eyebrows, and he groaned as he dropped his face against the counter. His voice was muffled when he continued. “Both. What the fucking hell, Marinette?”

…ok. She had pissed him off somehow.

“It’s not a big deal –” she huffed. She was suddenly feeling very defensive and a little angry herself. She looked down at her lap, smoothing out the skirt of the dress she had worn.

“It’s a very big deal!” he snapped. He winced at the look she shot him and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I just…help me understand this. I’m not…I’m not saying no. I’m just trying to understand.”

“There’s not a lot to understand,” she snapped. “I’m sick of being a virgin and want to have sex. I trust you, Luka. I trust that you’d show me how it’s supposed to be done. Not just…fuck me.”

The strangled sound he tried to choke down made her raise her eyebrows a bit higher. She looked away and pushed out a breath, crossing her arms over her chest. The move felt defensive, like she was trying to protect herself – from what, though? This was Luka. Her friend. Her good friend. Her good friend that she had maybe been a bit in love with for a long time now, but her good friend all the same. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her – that was part of the reason she had come to him for this! He…he…

“I trust you, Luka,” she finally said, her voice soft. “I want you to show me what it’s like to make love. I just…I want to feel loved. At least once.”

The nerves had disappeared from her gut, replaced by something worse. Something unpleasant and twisted and awful. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Luka was supposed to laugh at her for being dumb, or agree without any argument. Because they were friends, and they trusted each other. Because he was older and wiser and more mature, and he had already done this. He had already had those experiences. So he would get it, and he would have no problem teaching her.

She squeaked when he was suddenly crushing her to his chest. She hadn’t heard him move until he was right beside her, and then he had gathered her up in his arms and tugged her close. His hand cupped the back of her head and gently guided it to his shoulder, and she shivered as he pressed his lips to her crown and stayed there. Her arms found the familiar path around him, winding up his back and fisting his shirt in her hands. She listened to him breathing, following his lead like she’d done so many times before until their deep, steady breaths were in sync. He pursed his lips against her head, kissing her firmly, before he pulled back and dropped his face against her shoulder. He squeezed his arms around her.

“You are loved, Marinette,” he said, his voice thick with an emotion she was too afraid to place. “You are so loved. How do you not know that?"

“That’s not…that’s not what I meant, Luka,” she mumbled. He pulled away, his hand sliding from the back of her head to cup her jaw. He brushed his thumb along her cheek, his eyes moving along her face as he studied her. She swallowed, her eyes dropping from his own, and he sighed.

“Then tell me what you mean,” he said. His hand flexed against her face, and then he was sitting on the stool next to her. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, and watched her. “Explain to me exactly what you mean, because I don’t understand at all. And I…I need to understand before I say anything.”

“You’re going to say no,” she said. She wondered if she sounded as bitter as she thought she did. By the way he rolled his eyes, she figured she did.

“I’m not saying no, but I’m not saying yes, either,” he sighed, raising an arm to rub at his eyes. “I’m just trying to understand.”

“What’s there to understand, though?” she whined. He cocked an eyebrow at that, and she crossed her arms over her chest again. “I want to have sex. I figured it would be smart to do it with someone I trusted instead of some random guy. And…I trust you.”

“I’m glad you do,” he said. There was still an edge to his voice that made her glare at him, and he sighed before hanging his head again. “I want you to trust me, Mari. I just…you want to have sex. I just want to know why. What the hell started this?”

“We were talking about it on my birthday – the girls and me,” she said. She was glaring at the microwave, her entire body stiff. “I’m the only one who hasn’t done it yet. Alya, Mylène, Juleka and Rose, even Alix – everyone but me has done it, and –”

“Ok, wait, hold on,” he groaned, holding up both hands. She looked back to him to find a grimace on his face, his eyes firmly shut. “One. Please don’t talk about Jules, Ro, and sex. I know they’re doing it, but I don’t need to know they’re doing it, ok? Two. If the only reason you want to have sex is because you’re the only virgin left in your friend group –”

“Oh my God, Luka, it’s not just that!” she huffed. She hopped off her stool, and he watched as she began pacing. His eyebrows rose. She was wringing her hands, bending her fingers back like she’d overworked them and was working out the kinks. “I’m not that stupid!”

“Good, because it really sounds like you are,” he said with a roll of his eyes. She turned back towards him and crossed her arms. Her eyes were starting to burn, just a little. She fell back on the anger and annoyance to keep herself from crying. That was a whole other level of mortification she was not prepared to deal with right now.

“Do you want to have sex or not?” she huffed. He groaned and pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes.

“That’s not the point –” he started, but she snorted.

“It pretty much is,” she scoffed. He glared at her beneath his hands.

“Could you get off the defensive for one fucking minute and talk this out with me like the mature adult you’re pretending to be?” he snapped. Her lips pressed together, and her hands balled into fists at her side. She sucked in a sharp breath. He sighed and slumped forward. “I’m sorry.”

“I should go,” she said, glancing towards the door. “This…this was a mistake. I’m sorry, too. Can we just forget I ever did this?”

“No,” he said. She jerked her head back to him, eyebrows high. He groaned, rubbing at his face again. “I am not akumatized enough for this.”

She snorted, biting down on a smile. She knew he saw it anyway when he grinned at her.

“Marinette, I just need you to talk to me,” he said. “I…I want to have sex. With you. But I need to understand why you want to do this first.”

“It’s not good enough that I want to lose with my virginity with someone I trust?” she mumbled quietly, staring at her feet.

“No, it’s not,” he sighed. “Not…not if it’s me.”

She frowned, her face scrunching in confusion.

“What…what should that matter?” she asked. “I mean…what, would you feel differently if I was asking Dingo?”

He choked, burying his face in his hands as another groan escaped him.

“You don’t even want to know what I’d feel if you asked fucking Dingo,” he huffed. She tried not to laugh at that, knowing it really wasn’t the time, but a small giggle escaped her when he lowered his hands and she saw he was grinning at her. “Promise me you won’t ask Dingo.”

“I don’t understand,” Luka said, pushing out a breath as he dragged his hands along his face. He looked up at her. Saw the tears in her eyes. Blinked, shook his head, and scrubbed at his face again. “I really don’t understand.”

“It’s for the best,” Marinette said, shuffling from foot to foot. She couldn’t look at him. Guilt was clawing at her insides. She knew this was the right thing to do, but if that was the case why did it all feel so wrong?

“Bullshit!” he snapped, bolting up from his bed. He immediately regretted the outburst when he saw her wince. “That’s…that’s bullshit, Mari. How is dumping me for the best?”

“I’m not dumping you!” she said quickly, holding up her hands in protest. He scoffed and fought the urge to kick his nightstand. His guitar was too close, and it wasn’t the guitar’s fault this was happening, after all (even if a dark part of his mind whispered that it was).

“Please explain to me how saying I think we should break up isn’t dumping me,” he said, clenching and unclenching his fist. His thumb anxiously spun the ring on his finger, and he glared out the porthole. Anything to not look at her.

“I don’t…Luka, Jagged Stone offered to take you on tour,” she said. He raised an eyebrow at her. Yeah, he knew that. That’s what had started this whole mess. “And…you need to go.”

“I already told him –” he started, but she was shaking her head.

“It’s an amazing opportunity, and I could never live with myself if you passed it up because of me,” she said.

“Then we’ll go long-distance – tons of people make that work,” he argued. He didn’t know when he had crossed the room. When he had put his hands on her shoulders, when he had reached up to wipe away the tears spilling from her eyes. “Mari, please. Don’t do this.”

“We’re so young, Luka,” she sighed. It sounded rehearsed, like she had said it in front of her mirror countless times. Preparing for this very moment. Knowing her, she probably had. “It’s…you need to focus on you right now. On your career. I need to focus on finishing lycée, and…”

The unspoken hung between them. The secret she suspected he knew but could never be spoken, for everyone’s safety.

“I don’t have to be older to know I love you,” he said fiercely, pulling her towards him. She accepted the hug too easily for someone who was trying to break up with him. “We can make this work.”

“Maybe one day,” she said, her voice wobbling, “but not now. You need to go. I need to let you go.”

“I don’t want you to,” he said. She pulled away and placed her hands on either side of his face.

“Then let’s make a deal,” she said. He pursed his lips, confused, but she was smiling at him despite her tears. “If, when you get back in a year, you still feel this way…if you’re still single, and you still love me, meet me on this day, at this time, at the observation deck of the Eiffel Tower. And we’ll start again.”

“This is our life, Marinette,” he sighed. He wondered if he sounded as tired as he suddenly felt. “This isn’t some romantic comedy.”

“This is your life, Luka,” she agreed, “and I won’t be the one holding you back.”

Funny. It had never felt like she was holding him back before.

“So you’re going to go with Jagged,” she continued, her thumb brushing beneath his eye, “and I’m going to finish lycée, and in a year…we’ll see.”

“I’ll wait,” he vowed, but she shook her head.

“That’s not fair, either,” she said, but the way she laughed made it sound like she didn’t believe that. Like she’d be waiting for him, too, despite everything she was telling him. “Live your life, Luka. I hope I can still be a part of it someday.”

– V –

A year to the day, Ladybug and Chat Noir finally defeated Hawkmoth.

It was a long battle. The fallout was worse.