"What's wrong with you?"

Chat freezes at the question, hands tightly gripping the armrest of Marin's chaise. He doesn't meet Marin's eyes and chooses instead to stare at the floor.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Chat responds eventually, visibly forcing himself to relax his tense body.

Marin frowns. He'd noticed as Ladybug that Chat seemed a bit off—tenser, jumpier, more agitated—but when Chat had showed up at Marin's house, which wasn't even that unusual these days, he could instantly tell that whatever was wrong, it needed to be addressed soon.

"Something's wrong. Something is clearly bothering you." Marin carefully looks over Chat Noir. "So what is it?"

Chat purses his lips in a straight line, eyebrows drawn together. He looks embarrassed and sheepish. After a moment, he bites his lip and shakes his head. "It's nothing." He mutters.

Marin's frown deepens and he wheels his desk chair a bit closer to his friend. "It's bothering you so it must be important. Just tell me, I promise I won't judge you."

Chat Noir is silent for a long time, fiddling with the lone pillow on the chaise. Finally, he says, "Promise you won't judge me?"

"Of course."

Chat sucks a breath slowly in through his teeth. "I have not been, well…" he trails off for a moment and bites his lip. What Marin can see of Chat's face quickly turns pink. "I haven't been getting fucked recently."

Marin pauses for a moment, completely sure he misheard that. "Excuse me?" he asks politely.

Chat absolutely flushes and covers his face with the pillow. "I haven't been getting fucked recently." The pillow muffles the words but Chat repeats them loud enough that it doesn't matter.

Marin, meanwhile, is reeling. It feels like his world was just tilted on its side.

Chat Noir, Marin's best friend and partner on the other side of the mask, is not only not a virgin, but having sex frequently enough that the lack of it significantly affects him. The knowledge of it crashes into Marin like a truck.

"You." Marin pauses and clears his throat awkwardly when his voice cracks. "I thought you were in love with, you know, Ladybug?"

Chat straightens instantly, looking alarmed and mildly offended. "Of course I love Ladybug!" He proclaims loudly. "Ladybug is," Chat pauses, eyes going distant and a small, serene smile crosses his features. His entire body relaxes for the first time since he entered Marin's room. "He's the most amazing person I've ever met. Brave and confident and kind and smart and likes me for me." Chat sighs dreamily and slumps back on the chaise, looking lovesick and smitten.

It's Marin's turn to purse his lips as he looks at Chat. While he's aware of Chat's feelings, Marin is still stunned that he could possibly have that sort of affect on anyone. It also makes him feel a bit guilty that Chat seems so hung up on Ladybug when Marin can't return those feelings.

Chat sighs again, sounding dismayed. Marin instantly focuses back on him. "But alas," Chat says dramatically, "Ladybug does not love me. And me, well," Chat shifts and bites his lip again, cheeks still pink. "Well, I like to be fucked."

Marin swallows because, alright. He asked the question and insisted on getting an answer. This conversation is definitely happening. "But it hasn't been happening recently."

Chat pouts, flipping onto his stomach and clutching the pillow close. Marin watches his tail flick agitatedly about. "No."

"Is that—is it really that big of a deal?"

"For me it is!" Chat cries, looking over at Marin. "Okay, look, you're a virgin right?" Marin nods. "Well I'm not. Very much not. And after so long of being a not-virgin and," Chat shivers, "so long of being fucked, not being fucked on at least a bi-weekly basis is disorientating."

Marin stares with wide eyes. "Bi-weekly?" When Chat nods, Marin can only shake his head in disbelief. "How long has it even been since you've…" he trails off and makes an incredibly vague gesture, cheeks flaming and ears red.

Chat's ears droop. "Three weeks."

Marin stares and, before he even really realizes he's doing it, opens his mouth. "You're a whore."

Chat instantly shoots up, eyes dark and intense as they focus intently on Marin. "Say again?"

Marin flushes and pushes his chair back, eyes on the ground. "I'm so sorry I didn't mean to say that it just—"

"Marin." Chat's voice cuts through the rambling and Marin can't help but look up. "Repeat what you just said."

Marin swallows and flexes his fingers. "I said you're a whore."

Chat inhales sharply, loudly, through his nose and licks his lips. "Yeah," He says, eyes glazed, voice breathy and cheeks coloured. "I really am."

Marin watches as Chat falls back onto the chaise and lets out a long, drawn out sigh. Marin lets out a shorter, quieter sigh of his own. "So," he says hesitantly, trying to move past whatever just happened. "Why don't you just try and live without sex?"

Chat snorts and shakes his head. "Oh ye of little deflowering, you know not of how impossible that is. You see Marin, as I am a whore, I can not live without getting fucked. And you, being a virgin wouldn't understand why.

"You don't understand what it's like to have someone's hands on your waist and hips and everywhere else. To have someone kiss your lips like they need it to live. Have someone ravish your body like it has the secrets of the universe." Chat shudders, eyes glazed and voice breathy. His lips are red and swollen from how much he's bitten them. "Never had someone wrap your legs around their waist and fuck you right there up against the wall because they have to have you right now. Or pressed you into a table so hard the wood leaves marks on your hips. Had someone push you to your knees and then shoved their cock down your throat. Been made to beg just so you can cum. Been fucked so wide open and thoroughly that you can't walk or remember where you are. Been spanked so hard that you can't sit down for a week. Been tied up and tortured so long that you go insane." Chat Noir throws his head back and moans, legs spreading and erection very obvious.

"You," he says, gasping the word and hips briefly rutting against air, "Haven't been fucked, and filthied, and used like a slut. So you wouldn't know how addictive it is."

Marin swallows around the lump in his throat. He's not turned on. He's not hot and bothered by watching Chat. He's not straining against his pants by imagining Chat letting some guy do all those things. He is not imagining doing all of those things to Chat and more.

(He so is).

"So," Marin says, voice strained. Chat blinks at looks over at him blearily, like he'd forgotten Marin was actually there. "That's what's been bothering you them?"

Chat sighs again and nods. He flips over onto his stomach and pauses a moment. He lets out a groan into the pillow and Marin watches as Chat Noir grinds into his chaise. The noise he makes seems the snap Chat out of his daze.

"Shit, sorry." Chat mutters as he sits up. The bulge only becomes that more obvious and Marin does his best to look away. "I'll just leave."

"No!" Marin shouts, grabbing Chat's wrist before he can escape. They both freeze and all Marin can think is I did not mean to do that I should not have done that oh no. "I mean, you just need to, um, get fucked right?"

Chat is staring at him, carefully observing. "Are you offering?" That is a very good question that Marin honestly does not know the answer to. Chat seems to be aware of this and smiles kindly at him. "Just because I'm having this issue doesn't mean you have to force yourself to help me. I'll be fine."

Chat is giving Marin an out. Marin should probably take it and hope this hasn't destroyed Ladybug's view of, and future interactions with Chat. Marin should flee. But.

But.

Marin is a good friend who always wants to help his friends. And if Chat isn't Marin's friend, no one is. So, if Chat wants—needs—to be fucked, well, Marin is just being a good friend.

He pulls Chat close and wraps his arms carefully around his hips. Chat hesitantly places his hands on Marin's shoulders, staring at him curiously. "So," Marin says, purposefully meeting Chat's gaze. "You wanted to be treated like a slut then?" Chat's eyes darken and he instantly pulls Marin in for a searing kiss.

About two hours, half a bottle of lube, and no more than five condoms later, Marin is laying on his bed staring up the ceiling. He's sticky and sweaty and heaving for breath but, most importantly, very much deflowered. He's also pretty sure his dick is broken. Chat lets out a laugh when he says as much.

"Let's test that theory shall we?" He whispers in Marin's ear before diving down, past hickies and claw marks covering Marin's skin. Marin groans and fists a hand in Chat's hair as a mouth engulfs his dick again.

Well, his dick isn't broken. Good thing too since Marin has a feeling he'll be using it a lot more often now.