“I would have married you if I could, you know that, right?”
He looked at her face, watching her hair, red and curly behind her ears, and also her pink lips, now rippling in an angry grimace, which, in the end, suited her a little. She would have been exactly like the day he last saw her if it wasn’t for those angry eyes, for that hateful expression. Beverly fell silent, lowering her face to her feet, hugging her own shoulders in an attempt of comfort; Ben desired with all of himself to be able to do something, anything. But he couldn’t, not after everything he had done.
He heard the roar of Mike’s car engine and it was almost relaxing, therapeutic for the sudden headache he was suffering from. The ignition of the bottom engine involved an escape route closer to this fucking situation.
Then the noise stopped abruptly.
And it started again.
And it went out one more time.
It resumed.
And the silence fell again.
“… Shit.” He heard Mike murmur, Stan turned in his direction to find an unreadable expression on his face. Mike looked up at him, denying. “It’s not working, must be broken.
“I asked for a coffee but I got a chocolate.” repeated Eddie, flying over the name he received. Richie smiled at him, resting his arms on the counter confidentially. “Yeah… but you’re studying, you have Mrs. Fernandez, right? That Latina makes you work like a mule I also had her, and they always told me that chocolate helps memory.”
Eddie blinked twice before having a real reaction, making the other guy lose confidence and sending him, unknowingly, into a panic. “So you purposely got my order wrong?”
Stan felt his back slam against the shelf behind him, briefly worried about the books he would have to clean up later, before gazing up at his boyfriend. Mike stared down at him, his warm eyes so shockingly dark, his breath causing Stan’s skin to prickle. Stan heard himself gasp when Mike began to kiss and nip his neck, hands moving to cup his ass through his khakis.
“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you lamb,” Mike whispered hotly into Stan’s ear, his hands running up and down Stan’s legs.
“I prefer the way you’re looking at me right now,” Stan said, daring to look up at his partner with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Mike resisted the urge to do something utterly sinful right there in the middle of the nonfiction section of the library, but he knew better.
“Backroom,” he whispered, dragging his boyfriend back to the front of the library, swiftly grabbing his leather messenger bag and a set of keys, before waltzing downstairs and hastily unlocking the ‘employees only’ filing room that no one ever went in.
“What if Greta hears?” Stan murmured, grinding slowly on the back of Mike’s ass as his boyfriend struggled to unlock the door, rotating through the different keys. Mike let out a groan, resting his forehead against the door.
“Fuck Greta,” he said, turning around to pull his boyfriend in for a kiss. Stan nibbled on Mike’s bottom lip, running a hand up his chest before letting it rest at the back of his neck, pulling them closer.
“Lemme try,” Stan murmured against Mike’s lips. Mike nodded, handing Stan the keys who opened it instantly.
“What the fuck,” Mike said shaking his head, a dreamy smile on his face. Stan let out a humorous breath through his nose before tugging Mike into the room. Instantly Stan was backed against the door, causing it to slam shut. Stan looked up at Mike through lidded eyes and fluttering eyelashes. Mike dipped his head slightly to meet Stan’s lips, a hand intertwined with his partner’s.
Kissing was always a dance between the two of them. It could be as soft as swaying slowly under the stars in their backyard or as intense as the music video for Christina Aguilera’s ‘Dirty’. Today it was the second one.
Mike tugged Stan desperately closer, in search for more contact. Stan pushed himself off of the door and began to back up Mike instead, taking him closer to the filing cabinets throughout the room. Mike’s hands began to unbutton Stan’s polo, which Stan quickly pulled over and folded as if it were second nature. Mike pulling his own shirt off as well. Stan’s hands were on Mike’s fly as soon as he finished, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans and tugging them to the ground before teasingly running his hand over Mike’s hardening bulge.
A/N: Y’all wanted a twist??? It’s a Miraculous Ladybug AU motherfuckers!
“Chat Noir, can’t you focus for just once!” Eddie said as they jumped over the rooftops in Paris.
“No can do bugaboo,” Richie replied before vaulting over a chimney. “I’ll make puns even in the most dire situations.”
“Chat, seriously,” Eddie said, coming to a stop. “Hawkmoth has made another akuma, we need to focus on the task at hand!”
“I believe you mean the task at wing, Ladybug,” Richie replied, twirling his leather tail in his right hand.
“Chat!” Eddie said, folding his arms. “People are in danger, what if your father was akumatized?” Richie winced at that, despite the fact that the two didn’t know each other’s civilian identities, that didn’t stop them from communicating about their private lives.
Ladybug knew all too well about his home life, from his cold isolative father to his dead mother. That didn’t stop him from loving his father though. The man may be private, but he cared enough to make sure Richie was safe at all times.
“Sorry bugaboo… “ Richie murmured. Eddie’s eyes softened at that.
“It’s okay kitty,” he replied, placing a hand on his partner’s shoulder. “I’ve just had a busy week is all.”
“You’re quite the busy bee, aren’t you Ladybug?” Richie said with a wink.
“Enough with the puns!” Eddie called before swinging with his yo-yo again. “We’ve got a city to save!”
…
Soon enough, Ladybug had de-evilized the akuma and everything was back to normal. The two of them sat on top of the Eiffel Tower, their legs swung over the guard railing, staring down at Paris below them.
“Do you ever wish Master Fu hadn’t chosen us?” Eddie whispered. Richie looked up in surprise.
“… Sometimes,” Richie replied slowly. “Why? You-you aren’t thinking about giving back your miraculous are you?”
“No!” Eddie said defensively. “No, no, no,” Eddie laughed softly. “I just … .”
“Just …?”
“There’s got to be someone more qualified to do a job like this than me.” Eddie whispered, pulling at the latex of his super suit.
“Ladybug,” Richie said, cupping Eddie’s cheek. “There isn’t a single person I could think of more qualified to save Paris than you,” he whispered.
Eddie stared back at his partner, crinkles highlighting the dark circles under his eyes. Eddie placed a hand onto Richie’s knee before murmuring softly;
“Thank you …”
“It’s okay,” Richie said, looking back down into his partner’s dark brown eyes. “We all need to be reassured about it sometimes.” Then, the sound of beeping interrupted their tender conversation causing the two of them to look away from each other hastily. Richie let out a sigh before brushing a hand through his hair.
“I’m about to detra-”
“Detransform,” Richie finished. “I know.” Eddie felt himself choke on air, wanting so desperately to open up and help the boy he didn’t completely know, but that he loved so dearly.
“I’ll see you at the next patrol Chat Noir,” Eddie said, placing a kiss onto his partner’s cheek before swinging over Paris’ skyline. Richie brought a hand up to his cheek, his jaw slightly dropped before a smile stretched across his pale face.
“I’ll see you around bugaboo,” he whispered to himself.
