Work Text:
“I’ve just been feeling weird about Marinette”.
The statement is absorbed by the rocking walls of the houseboat, and it gently dissipates out into the waves beyond it. Luka is fiddling with Adrien’s keyboard, which awkwardly lays across both their laps. He knows it’s not broken, they both do. It’s just an excuse.
“Weird? In what way?” Luka pries, his gaze not lifting.
Adrien stutters: “Well it’s just… I- well… I thought that— it's— I- I just—”
“It’s not going as smoothly as hoped?” Luka finishes for him.
Adrien sighs. “Yeah. That.”
Luka exhales softly, a polite laugh.
“Why do you think that is?”
“Well, I-”.
Adrien can’t find the words. His face just scrunches up in thought. He draws his knees out from under the keyboard, Luka considerately pulls it out of the way, over to his own side of the bed. He then turns to face him, placing a reassuring hand on his thigh.
“Hey. Adrien”, he says, his thumb starting to swirl in gentle patterns, “Just get the main bits out, yeah? Doesn’t have to be coherent. I’m listening”.
Their eyes met, and Adrien suddenly felt surrounded by the deep teal of them, completely enveloped, like a barrel wave of dappled sunlight he was surfing inside of. He couldn't look away. It was like they were glittering, brilliant and intimidating in their depth, but glinting with something darker that Luka wasn’t telling him, like he might drown in their currents, in their wisdom, in Luka—
"Are you okay?"
Oh god. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears. His throat was tightening, his head was... Swimming in dizziness, spinning... Around, and around, around- thumb... spiralling- It... It was too much, everything was too much, it was all—
So Adrien closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, and,
“I- thought that at first Ladybug was— I mean I really liked her.
This gorgeous, funny, talented, BEAUTIFUL girl with the sweetest smile… She just... Appeared one day. Like the world needed her. Like she was always meant to be there. and... She always knows what to do in a fight. She's so incredibly clever, and somehow manages to figure out how to beat even the most stubborn of opponents using literally nothing but her awesome brain and whatever her 'lucky charm' burdens her with! Or so I see on TV. Um. And I knew she was a superhero, but, I thought I had a chance because I—", he pauses.
"—I mean. Uh. I mean. Well, I guess I didn’t. It was stupid.”
Adrien still had his eyes shut. Luka kept tracing shapes with his thumb.
“I don’t think that it was stupid. What did you do?” He asked, hushed and dulcet.
“My feelings changed. Or I tried to make them change. For her. Because, um, well— ” he falters.
Luka catches the hesitation and goes to open his mouth but,
“— I started to like Marinette.” Adrien continued, “And then I really, really, liked her. She’s. Wow. Funny, cute, SO smart, Y’know? Hah.”
Luka’s thumb stills suddenly. Adrien’s eyes fly open.
“Shit. Sorry. Of course you’d know, you and her— I didn’t mean— ”, A strong hand squeezes his thigh.
“Hey. It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Keep going.”
“I…” He looks down, at the hand, feels how firm it is, feels something weird, feels hot, feels weak, wants more— He shuts his eyes again.
Breathes.
"Please.", Luka coaxes. "Go on."
Reluctantly, he does.
“Well… um. Now... I’m half dating her. And it’s great for the time we do get to spend together, but she just— It’s—It’s like there’s something inside that she can’t get out. Like a secret side, that wants to remain hidden.” Adrien’s brow furrows.
“...And that scares you?”
“What scares me is that this might be making her feel upset, and I wonder also if you can love someone fully… When you don’t know them completely."
They’re quiet, just for a second. Then, Adrien feels a warm hand embrace his cheek.
His eyes flutter open to see Luka's are closed, opposite him. They’re both sitting cross legged, Adrien’s keyboard laying discarded, but neatly placed, on the floor— having been abandoned in favour of whatever was happening now. Luka’s hands emanated heat, and he could feel his heartbeat in the places they were making contact. He suddenly realised how close they were. That Luka’s eyelashes were really pretty. That his hair was really pretty. That he was really close. And smelled nice. And they were touching. His heart rate sped up.
“You don’t know me completely, either. And yet we’re still close friends, right?”
His eyes were so bright. And big. And-
“Yeah.”
He uttered it softer than a whisper. It’s all he could get out. There wasn’t any room left in his lungs.
“Is it… Also that you can’t tell if she likes you? That she doesn’t even seem to know what she wants?” Luka wanted something.
All Adrien could do was get lost in his eyes, and nod.
“Have you two even kissed yet?”
He produced a vague murmur of agreement, his mouth failing him.
“…Properly?”
Silence.
“Hmm.” The hand on his thigh moved to somewhere behind him. The hand on his cheek brushed down to his chin, holding it in a loose grip.
“Would you rather someone... who knows what they’re doing?”
His voice was lower than normal, but misleadingly calm. It was quiet and low like something in the grass is quiet, as to not scare off its prey. Luka was leaning over him, backing Adrien onto the bedspread, laid flat save his elbow-propped torso. He was pinned.
Luka pulled Adrien’s captive chin towards his. Their breath mingled in the small amount of air between them.
Oh god. He was hard. He was so, so hard. Adrien saw Luka’s eyes flick down and back, faster than lightning, barely perceptible. Oh god. He knows. He saw. He… probably felt it.
“You’re easily excited, aren’t you?” Oh god. Oh no. His face went red. He was going to die.
Luka playfully flicked his nose.
“Maybe another time, kitty cat.” He withdrew from Adrien, gracefully sliding off the bed, lifting up the keyboard and dumping it into Adrien’s ashamedly covered lap with no remorse.
Another time?? What did he mean by that? Luka giggled at Adrien, who was trying to both cover his boner and stop the keyboard from falling.
“Luka- I- I didn’t mean… We. Uh,” he coughed, “We should get back to the others, right? They’ll be, uh…” Adrien was struggling not to explode from embarrassment.
“…Wondering where we are?” Luka ever so helpfully suggested.
“Right. Yes. Yeah.”
They should. That was true. They both were still for a moment, or as still as you can be on a boat, and they regarded each other fully.
“Let’s go.” Luka said finally, and made to leave.
Adrien grabbed his arm.
“Luka, Wait,”
What was he doing? What was he saying??
“There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there? You know something, I can tell.”
Luka froze, one hand on the doorframe. Then turned, a small smirk lifting the corner of his mouth.
“Oh?” “And what would that be?”
“I. Before. You called me—”
Wait. What if he didn’t know? The cabin door closed. What if he was wrong and it was just a little nickname? He didn’t want to give himself away—
“I mean. You and Marinette, Y’know, when you were a thing…”,
“Mmhm,”
Luka slowly re-approached the bed. A lock clicked.
“What’s this about, Adrien?”
Luka was checking to see if the curtains were drawn.
“Well, I- Was... um. Was that a... nickname you ever called her?”
Adrien was averting his eyes, trying exceptionally hard to focus on anything other than Luka. Trying not to think about Luka with Marinette, Luka holding her, Luka teasing her— trying not to get jealous. Trying especially hard to not reveal his secret identity, which, if he was wrong about this, he was very close to doing.
“What? You mean when I called you ’kitty cat’?”
Adrien bit his lip. Should he really be bringing attention to it?
“Are you sure that’s what you want to talk about?”, Luka taunted, but his voice was that flat, gentle monotone again. It was almost hypnotising. “Is that what you’re really asking?”
Adrien was panicking. What was he asking? Why didn’t he just let Luka leave?
“I…” Adrien trailed off.
“I know who you are, kitten.”
Adrien’s focus snaps to Luka, stunned, before he bursts out laughing.
“You- pff- You can’t just call someone-”
But Luka was standing over him now, pulling Adrien’s legs to sit either side of his waist. Adrien sat on the edge of the bed, with Luka flush against- well. What was now becoming a more noticeable problem.
“I can’t call you kitten? My apologies, Adrien. Should I have just called you Chat Noir?”
Looking up at Luka, feeling him between his legs, locking eyes with him— Adrien’s mind went blank. Even blanker than usual. All he could think about was the heat, the warmth, the straining hardness that was pressed between them.
Luka took in this mess below and only smiled, with a warmth that ended at his eyes. He pushed Adrien down by his chest, and started to kneel next to the bed, coming to rest his hands on Adrien’s inner thighs.
“Luka-”, Adrien whimpered, drunk at the contact. He knew? Was he bluffing? Was it a guess? Luka went to lift Adrien’s shirt, just to get it out of the way, black nails ghosting over the lightest of happy trails. As his hands travelled he could feel him trembling underneath, every touch eliciting a subtle shiver.
“Are you okay, Adrien?” He wasn’t. Of course he wasn’t! Luka knew? Did he know who Ladybug was, too? As Luka pops open the button at the top of his jeans Adrien gasps, balling Luka’s bedsheets in his fists.
He couldn’t think.
Luka starts to pull the zip down at an agonisingly slow pace, enjoying the squirming it receives from Adrien, straining, fucking against the remaining fabric left between him and the air, him and Luka. He was grinding on cotton. He wanted to grab Luka’s hands and do it for him, to hurry him up, to just,
Please-
Please—
“Adrien?” Luka thumbed at the elastic hem of his boxers, waiting for permission.
Adrien thought he would die if Luka didn’t touch him right then and there.
“Please.”
It was almost a sob.
Luka pulled him towards him, helped him shed everything below the waist down to his ankles, and watched, bemused, as Adrien lay twitching, visibly leaking, achingly hard in front of him.
“May I?”
Luka hovered, tongue open, eyes expectant. Adrien just guided Luka’s head down with his hand and whined.
His mouth was wet, and warm, so warm— warmer than his own hands had ever been. Adrien has never felt anything so good before. He takes him in, starts to move, suck, lick. Luka’s agile tongue dances in the shape of a caduceus, snaking around, slithering up, and down, and up again— It’s so much. It’s so good. He wants to cry. Tears start to form in his eyes.
“L-Luka—”, his voice broke, quietly. Luka merely carried on, cruelly unfazed, still unbelievably warm, and soft, and wet, his magical tongue ensuring not a single tooth scraped him as he went.
“H-have you done this,” he panted, “Before?”
Luka merely hummed, “Mmhmm”.
“Hhah— D-did…”, a small wave rocks the boat, and his hips stuttered forward, “F-fuck—”
He’s trying so, so hard to form a coherent thought.
“Did you and Marinette ever…? Ah—”
Luka removes himself from the top of Adrien’s dick with a subtle “pop”. a string of spit connects to Luka’s tongue as he teases,
“Ever what? Do this stuff?”
He slides back down to the base, allowing it to hit the back of his throat before Adrien can even try and form a response.
“Luka- nghh- ffuck-” He grips the sheets.
“Do you think I ate her out? Like this?”
Luka starts licking just under the head, catching pearls of pre, then lapping at the slit as though tonguing a clit.
“You’re like a- a snake or something.. Ah… h-hhah- how… h-how do you move your t-tongue like that? I-”
If Marinette had done this with Luka already, then surely what was happening now was only fair. He needed the experience, didn’t he? To make her happy?
And. Luka seemed…
“Ah- f-fuck—”, his tongue was moving in tiny circles as he gripped Adrien’s thighs, “Luk—ah- nhnngh—”
….Well, Luka seemed experienced.
His kitten licks sped up. Instinctively, Adrien grabbed a fistful of black and teal hair, forcing himself to the hilt with a buck of his hips, letting out an actual moan. Luka didn’t even flinch, taking it all at once like a hungry python engulfs an egg.
“SHIT-Shit-shit— I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you stop, I- you just felt so good, it- I just—”, Adrien tries to pull out, so Luka could do his tongue swirls again, but he’s only forced further back down Luka’s throat with every attempt to move.
“Luka- fuck- you’re gonna—” Luka knows.
He buries his face into Adrien’s crotch, which oddly smelled of musk, and Agreste Cologne (God, it was like he was made to be their poster boy.), fluttering his throat around what he could, and speeding up his bobbing.
Adrien pushed him down as far as he could go. He felt bad about suffocating him, but in a more real way, he felt really good about suffocating him. And anyway, Luka was going faster than before, letting himself, his perfect mouth, be fucked up into, softly grunting with each thrust.
Both of them were trying to keep relatively quiet— but Luka could feel a pressure building, and “Luka— please— Fuck, please, pleaseplease, don’t stop, please Luka, Luka, Luka, I’m—”, was starting to ramp up in volume. Whatever was about to possibly happen was going to echo out, loudly.
Luka, with great difficulty, pried himself off of him just as he was about to finish, earning himself a writhing blubbering heap that was scrambling to pull him back down, get him back, needed him back.
Luka leant forward, up, over Adrien, and silenced him with his hand.
Adrien wanted to bite him and his stupid hand. He wanted to hiss and scratch and to bite him, he NEEDED to cum he needed to cum he needed to—
Luka then brought Adrien’s own hand to cover his mouth, in a universal gesture of “Hold it there yourself, doofus”, before returning to relentlessly sucking in seconds.
It was terrifying how fast he was, Adrien thought, like he was some sort of semi-time-traveller or could teleport or something— Then his mind turned white noise. He melted into the feeling, the rush, the heat that was building and building, his hand found its way back to Luka’s hair, his other hand was firmly muffling his own whimpers as he fucked and fucked and
“Ohgod oh f-fuck- LUKA—” came out more like “MMpHfh mmFgCmph mmphkKA”, and he thrust one last time, and he came.
It shot down Luka's throat, throbbing, hot, and again he seemed somehow completely content to swallow, and swallow, held in place by a hair-gripping strength from Adrien so inhuman that he wouldn't really have had a choice anyway.
“MMmphmh”. Adrien articulated most intelligently.
He then slumped down, hand falling from Luka’s mussed hair to collapse at his side.
Having been freed, Luka climbed onto the bed, pulling Adrien’s lips to his roughly. He slides his tongue in with ease, building spit, allowing the last unswallowed bit of cum to transfer over in the kiss.
Luka pulls away quickly.
"Wh-"
“Swallow, mon chaton.”
Adrien audibly gulped. More in pure shock than from being told to, but he still did what he was told.
“Good kitty.”
Luka thumbed away some spit from the corner of his mouth, looking down at his tongues’ victim, laying flat, breathing soft, skin dewy with sweat and its usual perfect Agreste Glow.
He then got up, apparently satisfied.
“Well. You know where to find me.”
He meant it, genuinely. But Adrien could only lay there.
The curtain was reopened. The door was unlocked. Luka took a quick look at the mirror, readjusting his hair and tidying himself up to look presentable.
“By the way... To answer your question?”
Luka dusted his shirt, and was inspecting the sleeves of his hoodie.
“…My question?”
Adrien was gazing at the ceiling.
“No, we didn’t. We only ever kissed.”
“Only ever…?”
Luka took him in one last time, with a quizzical pity.
“C'mon, Adrien. Like you said: the band will be wondering where we are.”
Luka slipped out of the cabin, and as the door clicked shut— it finally hit Adrien and his cum-addled brain.
“Oh.”
“OH.”
His whole face was red. His pants were still unzipped, around his ankles. His perfect hair was not that. The flush went to his ears and he covered his face with his forearm in the flustered silence.
“Fuck,” he thought to himself, turning into a fetal position on the bed. As he did, he spotted the now twice-discarded keyboard, laying on the floor. He did not remember it getting there.
“Fuck,” He thought again, snatching it up off the ground and examining it for damage haphazardly.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuck”, he turned on the keyboard— “Okay, at least it works,”—
Pressed some of the preset buttons at the top— “Okay, good,”—
Started to do some basic scales— “Phew, thank go-”
A note was off.
Did he skip one of them? No, no, of course not. He tried again, going up, totally fine, and then—
Silence where there should have been a middle D.
“FUCK.”
Luka was tuning his guitar when a bedraggled Adrien emerged at the top of the stairs, carrying the damn keyboard. He was still flushed, and his fly was unbuttoned.
“Adrien? What are you—”
“Luka, I think something is actually wrong with the keys this time”.