Viscous Cycle

• This Being My First •

Several days had started and ended, passing along time unceasingly, almost like a line that stretched on for infinity. Mari was still in a civil war of hatred with herself. Why had she faltered so? And it had occurred in front of Creep too. He sure as hell didn't need to see her in such a disheartening state. Marinette was fully positive that Adrien would hold it above her head, always teasing her about her rare vulnerability.

Crunching gravel below her shoes, she was on route to school. The sun was just beginning to rise, giving her an enchanting glow to her cheeks, otherwise contrasting her rather dark appearance. As if on annoyingly perfect queue, an overbearing roar of a motor engine ripped through the air. Mari's eardrums screamed in protest to the loud noise, rolling her eyes at the inhabitant of the parked bike.

"Two words. Restraining. Order. I have not trouble getting one if it keeps you and your stinky, molten stench away from me, Pervert," she growled, rolling her eyes and hostility crossing her arms. "Okay, I get it. You're pissed that I saw you without that disgusting makeup you insist on wearing. News flash, you're gorgeous without that crap," Adrien lectured, drawing closer to her figure after he popped out the kickstand.

"Not one step closer," Mari clenched her teeth tightly, air hardly being able to escape. Adrien sucked in one huge breath, holding it captive and not releasing for the life of him.

"I never intended to hurt you. Lowering down personal walls is a major suck fest, trust me, I know. I just hope you understand that everything that happened between us, ever, has been kept a secret. Never once have I spilled anything about you to anyone. Well... other than the public display of my love for you, Princesse," Adrien lowered his voice, the sun streaming directly to his twinkling green eyes. She was surprised that he refrained from breaking the touch barrier between them, keeping his grimy paws to himself in a refreshing twist of events. He had never been one to grab any super inappropriate parts on her body, Adrien housed a characteristic for being a brushing romantic on her cheek or arms. Respect. He always had respect for her.

Turning to face his bike, Mari caught something new on top of the skin on his left hand. Reaching out, she grabbed it, yanking Adrien's hand, and the body attached to it, toward her. Upon a quick speculation, she noticed it was a freshly applied tattoo.

"Is this permanent?" Marinette questioned, tracing its lines carefully.

"Yeah."

"Are you really that much of an idiot?"

"It was the first impression you ever left on me. I couldn't let it disappear."

"You Dingbat. Why?" she whispered into the warm air, furrowing a confused brow deep into her eye socket.

"I love you. How many more times do I need to tell you before you trust me?"

Dropping his hand, she bore her blue eyes into his, searching for anything that would fabricate any sort of sense.

"I can't believe your first tattoo was of the bite mark I gave you the other day."

"Whoa there! Who said anything about this being my first tattoo?" Adrien inquired, blushing his cheeks a mortifying cherry red. He had allowed too much information to spill out before fully thinking it through. Things like that tended to happen in front of Mari way too often.

"So you have others? Lemme see!"

"Hell no! They're beyond embarrassing!"

"May I quietly remind you that you saw my ugly face with out any product on top. That was just as nerve wrecking."

Adrien grumbled, in disbelief that this was the way that she would see his other inkings. He only complied with her demands for two reasons. One, he could never deny his Marinette. Two, she seemed to be in better spirits, and anything was better than witnessing her blatant discomfort.

Dropping his shoulders and huffing like a disappointed child, Adrien lifted up his shirt, exposing a picture of watercolor wildflowers situated on his right ribcage. It was downright beautiful, but looked wrong on a male's body. Especially this male, as he held the image of a raging bad boy with a communally known good heart.

Marinette's initial response was to point and laugh. Then, she recalled how Creep reacted to her vulnerability with an air of grace, wishing to give the same to him. Instead, Mari traced the tattoo with a polished finger. Adrien sharply inhaled, refraining from kissing her senseless then and there, all from her light touch alone.

"Got any more?" she casually asked, straightening up and tilting her head in questioning. Sighing and running a nervous hand through his blonde hair, Adrien turned around, raising his shirt up high, displaying a single, twisted stand of barbed wire starting at one side of his lower back, moving toward the other side.

Habitually, Marinette brushed her fingers on top of the ink. This time, shivers were noticeably sent down his spine, goosebumps emerging quite prominently under his skin. "How many do you have?" she questioned.

"Four."

"Where's the last one?"

"The only way that you'll be able to see it is if we partake in a certain kind of... activity, per-say." Adrien twittered, embarrassment crawled up his being.

"I'm not following."

He abruptly turned back around, looking at her front. "Are you kidding me? There's no way..." he said, "look, my last tattoo is in a compromising place. I'd have to take off my pants and boxers for you to see it. And that's not happening until we're both in love and feel ready."

"Since when do I care if I'm in a compromising place? Yank 'em down, or I will for you."

"Normally, I would corner with some witty jargon and wiggle my eyebrows or something flirtatious, but I'm putting my foot down."

"Well, pick it up. Or else."

Adrien snickered, wondering what it would be that she could do that would warrant such a vague response. "Or else, what?"

"Or else I'll never show you my tattoo."

"You have a tattoo, too?"

Crap. That was a classified tidbit that not even Alya knew about. Frazzled due to a slip of her lethal tongue, Mari flushed, bugging her eyes out of their socket. "Now you'll never know if I do or not," she poorly recovered. Adrien felt deliciously humored, laughing at her pink and flustered words.

Stepping closer, he placed his marked hand on her lower back, smashing their bodies together. If humanly possible, Mari's eyes grew even larger. "Mark my words. One day you'll fall for me. We'll get married and I'll make endless love to you every single night, no matter how long my shift at the office was. Our many children will grow older and admire our relationship, coveting one of their own.

"I will see all of your inked pictures at some point. If not today, then eventually. Might as well get it over with now, Princesse," Adrien breathed. As he spoke, his fingers fumbled underneath her top, doodling small designs on her the warm skin of her lower back. This almost eased all of her qualms of Adrien's closeness.

"If all of that is true, like you say it is, then why can't I see your last tattoo now?" Marinette tried, wanting to distract him from the last subject. The spark in his eye clued her in that he caught her clever change of topic, but chose ignore it fully.

Taking a step backward and rasing his hands in a sullen surrender, Adrien began to glance around, making sure they were alone. It was odd really, the sidewalk near their high school being as deserted as it was, neither realizing just how much of first period they were missing.

Adrien slid his shaking hands to unbutton and unzip his black jeans. Cautiously, he went to move the band of his boxers down. Marinette was drinking in his skin, reading it to look for this supposed hidden tat. Right next to his most sensitive part, lied a small drawing of two stick figures. She squinted her eyes at it, as if narrowing her field of vision would change the ink in front of her.

It looked as if a child had doodled it. A pale finger extended out, set to run over the image. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he thickly swallowed, "I would not be able to control myself anymore."

She regrouped, instead moving to hastily pull his underwear back up, replacing his pant zipper and button back together.