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“Like…like that?”
Luka was dreaming.
He had to be dreaming.
It took everything in him not to reach over and pinch his arm, just to make sure he wasn’t actually dreaming.
Because Marinette was sitting on his bed next to him, her leg pulled up and bent between them, one of her hands gently gripping his shoulder to balance (and God, was it shaking or was that him?) as she leaned in. She was so close, her warm, shaky breath fanning against his parted lips an almost painful reminder that she had just been so much closer. She was watching him with nervous, glassy eyes, so bright and beautiful and…
He wasn’t breathing. Was he breathing? He wasn’t sure if he was breathing.
He definitely wasn’t reacting.
And he definitely hadn’t been reacting just a second too long, judging by the nervous way she was nibbling on her lower lip (no no no that was his job now he wanted…). Judging by the way her face was starting to fall, her beautiful over-anxious, over-thinking brain clearly starting to spiral with all the ways she could have possibly messed this up, and he felt the breath he definitely wasn’t breathing catch in his throat. His hands moved without his permission, ghosting along her neck to slide up into her hair and thread his fingers through the tied-back strands. He swallowed, his throat feeling dry and thick and…
“…no,” he choked out, gently tugging her mouth back to his. “Like this.”
…how the hell had they wound up here, he thought desperately as she gave a startled little squeak seconds before his lips crashed down onto hers.
“You want me to what?” he asked, blinking as he looked up from his guitar. He was pretty sure he’d fumbled the last chord, but he wasn’t sure if that was why she was giggling or if it was the gobsmacked look on his face.
“Teach me how to kiss,” she said bluntly, as if there was no problem at all with her asking something like that from someone like…well, him.
“…why?” he asked, shaking his head. She rolled her eyes, closing the door behind her before she walked over to his bed. His eyes widened a little as she dropped down onto the mattress, bouncing him a little with the force of her fall. She hummed thoughtfully as she looked down, smoothing out the skirt of her dress. This wasn’t the first time they’d been like this: alone, on his bed, the door closed, his guitar usually on his lap…but usually they were just…hanging out. She’d be sketching while he noodled away. She’d never asked him…something like that before.
“So you don’t want to?” she asked, glancing over at him. He pursed his lips, biting down the exultant God yes for ages now that wanted to bubble up.
“That’s not what I said,” he sighed, reaching up to shove a hand into his hair. She smiled as she reached over, pulling that hand from his hair to run her fingers along his knuckles. His mouth went dry at her touch, at the gentle little circles she massaged into his skin.
“So you’ll do it, then?” she asked, peeking up at him from under her lashes. “Teach me how to kiss?”
She was going to be the absolute death of him.
“I don’t think…Mari, come on,” he sighed, hanging his head with a small little shake. “It’s me. Do you really think that’s the best idea?”
“That’s why it’s the perfect idea, Luka,” she said, rolling her eyes fondly. “Who better than you? You’re my best friend. I know we never actually got to kiss before, but…you wanted to, right? And I was just thinking…I don’t know. Maybe if I’d had a little more experience or something. Maybe you actually would have…”
“Your experience had nothing to do with why we never actually…God, Mari…” he groaned, shaking his head again. “You know that. You know how much I…what even sparked this?”
Her cheeks pinked as she looked away, her fingers stilling on his hand. She bit down on a nervous smile, and a niggling feeling of dread began to crawl up his spine.
“Well, if you must know…there’s this guy…” she said, her lip pulling back between her teeth again as she tried to hide a warm smile. The dread was starting to feel like ice – or a lead weight, dropping right in his gut.
“O-oh?” he choked, his fingers curling around hers and squeezing. She glanced at their hands, her smile slipping. “That’s…that’s great, Mari. I’m glad you…I’m glad you found someone.”
She hummed, her thumb pressing firmly into his knuckle as she rubbed.
“He’s kind of amazing, actually,” she said, nodding. “Super sweet, kind, a bit of a dork…dashing good looks…just my type. We’re going out tonight, you see, and…well. I was really hoping…if the date went well…but it occurred to me I’ve never actually kissed someone before. Like…kiss-kissed. And what if I’m awful at it? I don’t want to ruin things just because I’m a bad kisser, Luka.”
“You’re not a bad kisser, Marinette,” he said quickly, despite the uncomfortable lump in his throat. Stomach. Everything.
“Well, how do you know?” she huffed, squeezing his hand. “You never kissed me, remember?”
“Hey,” he chuckled weakly. “It wasn’t for lack of trying.”
“Well, maybe you should have tried harder,” she mumbled with a roll of her eyes. His gaze snapped up at her, but she was grinning at him, a teasing glint in her eyes. He didn’t think that made him feel any better. “Or maybe I should have.”
“Marinette…” he sighed. She scooted closer, tugging on his hand as she did so.
“Come on, Lu,” she said, leaning closer. “It’s just me. It’s just you. I just…really don’t want to mess this up again.”
He glanced up at that, his brow furrowing in confusion.
“…again?” he asked. Her eyes widened just a bit, a light flush coloring her cheeks.
“I-I-I mean…generally speaking, you know,” she said with an exaggerated shrug. “Given my track record. With guys. Don’t want to scare off another one.”
“You didn’t…if he doesn’t hold onto you as tight as he can, Marinette, he’s the damned fool,” he said, shaking his head. “Not you. Just…be yourself. Don’t overthink…well. I guess overthinking it is being yourself, but…just go with it. Kissing isn’t all that complicated, and if you both want it –”
He never saw it coming. She moved too fast, dropping his hand to grab onto his shoulder with her own and balancing on her ankle with the other as she leaned in. It barely counted as a kiss – just the briefest pecking of lips – but his mouth burned from where hers had touched it.
“Like…like that?”
Their next kiss wasn’t quite as skittish. In fact, it was anything but – and it was quickly turning into more as she scrambled into his lap, pushing him back onto his bed and grunting as his guitar hit her in the stomach. She pulled away, giggling, and he whined as he reached for her again.
“…come back here,” he said, smiling at her. “We weren’t done yet.”
“Of course we’re not done yet,” she giggled, sitting back on his thighs, “but this has to go if you’re gonna teach me anything else.”
Her words were like an ice bucket to his…brain. He watched mutely as she gently set Claire back in her stand by the bed. His breath hitched as she turned back to him, smiling as she placed her hands on his chest to steady herself.
“Now…where were we?” she asked, trying to sound seductive (he supposed) but sounding too giddy for the tone to be effective. She was lying on him again, already reaching for his mouth and another heated kiss, but he closed his eyes and pushed out a forceful breath as he gripped her shoulders to stop her. She blinked at him, confused, and he shook his head.
“Marinette, stop,” he said, his voice sounding weary and strained in his ears. “We…we can’t. This…I can’t do this.”
“You’ve been doing great so far,” she said, frowning. Her eyes popped open, a worried expression quickly replacing the almost cocky grin of moments before. “Unless…oh, no. Is it me? Am I really that bad at this?”
“You are entirely too good at this,” he groaned, reaching up to brush her bangs back. Her lips quirked with a nervous smile, and he sighed again. “But you just told me…I can’t keep kissing you if you’re going out with someone else. I can’t…dammit, Marinette. Do you even realize how unfair this is?”
“Luka –” she started, but he shook his head and pushed her back. She scrambled away as he sat up, the desire and confusion and hurt swirling together until only anger remained. He grit his teeth and looked away.
“I’m not talking about…whoever the hell he is. Or you. It’s unfair to me, Marinette,” he snapped, his fist clenching on his knee to keep his hand from shaking. “Damn it, Marinette. Damn it. I’m still…do you honestly have no idea? Do you honestly not realize I’m still insanely, stupidly in love with you? I can’t do this. I can’t be your practice for some other idiot who’s probably not gonna be stupid enough to let you go. I can be your friend. I can slap on a happy face and support you and be your friend. But I can’t…I can’t do this. You’re killing me, Marinette.”
“Luka, stop!” Marinette cried, and he sucked in a breath as she suddenly tackled him, knocking them both back onto the bed. Her arms wrapped tight around his neck, her face pressing against his chest. “You idiot. You idiot. I’m not…you were never practice, Luka. I’m so sorry if I ever made you feel that way. You –”
“Of course I’m practice,” he huffed. “You just told me –”
“You’re the guy, dummy!” she said, looking up from his chest to glare at him. “I wanted to kiss you! I was…I was gonna ask you to dinner tonight. And…yeah. I wanted to kiss you.”
He blinked at her. He felt like he’d just been doused with another ice bucket.
“Why…why didn’t you just say that?” he asked, shaking his head.
“Because…I wasn’t sure you’d say yes?” she mumbled, tucking her face back against his chest. He frowned.
“But hey, Luka, be my kissing buddy sounded like something I would say yes to?” he asked, shaking his head.
“Well when you say it like that…I mean…yes?” she mumbled. “We have history, Luka. And…I honestly was just gonna ask you to dinner, but…”
She mumbled something he couldn’t quite catch, and he frowned as he shimmied a little to nudge her head.
“Hey,” he called, bending to kiss the top of her head. “What was that last part?”
“You just looked really kissable, ok?” she huffed, lifting her head to pout at him. He blinked at her for a moment before a grin split his face. Her pout turned into a scowl. “Don’t look at me like that, Luka.”
“…you want to kiss me,” he said, a little dazed. She rolled her eyes and dropped her head on his chest, resting her ear above his heart.
“Well, not anymore,” she sulked. He chuckled and pulled her closer, kissing her head again.
“You want to date me,” he whispered, and she groaned as she bumped her forehead against him.
“Shut up,” she whined. “This was a horrible idea. I’ve changed my mind.”
“Oh?” he hummed, a little disappointed. “Too bad. You were actually pretty good at the whole kissing thing. I actually thought you were teaching me a thing or two.”
“Wait, seriously?” she asked, lifting her head to blink at him. He nodded, smiling, and reached up to cup her cheek. She bit down on her lip again, but this time it was to tamp down on her own equally silly, equally besotted grin. “I’m a good kisser?”
“The best,” he said, nodding. He tugged her face closer, enjoying the way her cheeks pinked at the touch. “Care to teach me a few more things?”
She glanced down at his lips, her tongue swiping out to wet her own, but she paused just shy of actually kissing him.
“…so does this mean it’s a yes on dinner?” she asked, and he hummed as he brushed his lips against hers.
“It’s a yes on whatever you want, Marinette,” he whispered. Her answering giggle tasted like all of his favorite things. Like everything he had ever wanted.
“Even if what I want is you?” she whispered back. His hand had slipped into her hair again, and she shivered as his thumb brushed against the shell of her ear.
“Especially if what you want is me,” he answered before pulling her back into another kiss.
And they did make it to dinner that night.
…eventually.