I originally posted this on tumblr, but now that it's multiple parts, I felt I should collect it all into one story. I hope you enjoy!

The first time it happens is on a roof overlooking the Eiffel Tower.

If he had been given the chance to plan it, he would not have done anything differently. The lights are going off on the Tower, sparkling and crackling behind them, and as Ladybug turns to him, they glitter in her eyes, reflected back at him. Her hands are clasped at her chest and she is biting her lip; she looks uncharacteristically nervous. His heart skips a beat as she says, "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he says, stomach doing a weird cartwheel.

She breathes in through her nose, as if steeling herself. "There's been something I've been meaning to… to practice. I… really want to be better at it. I don't know who… I just need help. You'll help me, won't you, Chat?"

He grins widely. "Of course. Anything for you, My Lady."

Her eyes grow soft, looking at something he can't see. "There's this boy that I really, really like. I want to ask him to a dance in the future and I want… I want to kiss him. After the dance. In front of the fountain. That will go off in a thousand beautiful directions and make an arch over–" She puts a hand over her mouth with a slight smile. "The point is, I want to be good at it when it happens, and I've never kissed anyone before. I know it might be too much to ask… but could you help me practice? I know you must have kissed plenty of girls, and well… what's one more?"

Chat feels the smile slide off his face. His stomach, previously filled with butterflies, now is like lead, sinking lower and lower with every word. He's actually never kissed anyone either, and he's not sure what hurts more: the fact that she thinks he has, or the fact that she want to kiss him in preparation for another boy.

He's never felt more torn. The moon is full in the sky, the air smells sweet, and Ladybug wants to kiss him, but it feels so wrong–

The hopeful, pleading look on her face breaks his resolve.

He pins the grin back into place. "Well, if that's what My Lady wants, how can I say no? I'm happy to share my expertise."

Ladybug drops her hands to her hips, looking much more like herself to chide him, "Don't rub it in, Kitty Cat. Not all of us are so lucky in love, you ladies' man."

He wants to blurt out that he'd trade for an ounce of good luck for the one Lady that matters, but he swallows the words because she's in front of him now, hands on his shoulders, and she slams their lips together.

Despite their collective inexperience, despite his conflicting feelings, fireworks explode behind his eyes, because she is kissing him and her lips are soft and she smells a little like vanilla and his arms rise like a sleepwalker's to wrap around her waist.

He tilts his head and things fall into place, and his grip tightens on her hips. They stay that way for what might be hours, might be days, until she pulls back with a pink glow to her cheeks and slightly swollen lips.

"So how was that, Chat? Am I any good?"

A million things he wants to say run through his head. "I think you'll need more practice."

The second time it happens is at the end of a routine patrol.

Though the way she stops swinging across the rooftops and turns to him looking a little sheepish makes him wonder if there was anything 'routine' about this patrol at all.

"Chat, I… really appreciated your help before. I trust your advice, and I really don't want to embarrass myself with this guy. Would you mind giving me my second lesson?"

Chat is still too focused on imagining his rival – who is he? what does he have that Chat Noir doesn't? – that he barely notices Ladybug until she is right in front of him.

"Chat?" she asks, hand on his cheek.

He looks into her eyes, then moves forward to close the gap between them.

If he can't be this boy that has won Ladybug's affections away from him, he can at least steal as many kisses from him as possible. He puts his hands on her shoulders, drawing her a little closer, and pretends that's enough.

The third, fourth, fifth, and sixth times it happens leave him reeling, drunk off of the feel of her lips and the taste of her tongue and the sounds of her soft moans.

The seventh, eighth, and ninth times it happens make him desperate for more.

The tenth, eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth times it happens twist his stomach up in knots.

Every time, when she circles her arms around his neck and plays with the hair at the nape of his neck, he forgets it isn't real. Every time, when she curls her hand against his chest, he manages to push the thought away. Every time, when her breathy giggles ghost across his neck, he falls further in love.

And every time she pulls away and says, "Just for practice."

He's addicted. Her lips are like a drug, and like a drug, he knows he shouldn't, knows he's only hurting himself more, but like a drug, he goes back every time. There is a part of him, a small voice in his ear, a whisper in the back of his mind, that tells him with just one more kiss, just one more, he can make Ladybug forget this boy and fall for him.

He's gotten so good at lying to himself.

The last time it happens is when his heart breaks.

She pulls away with a light gasp, flushed and exhilarated. Chat leaves his eyes closed for another minute; his heart is racing and he is hungry for more. Ladybug's technique has improved radically in the last few weeks.

"Chat, I really can't thank you enough. I feel so much more confident than I did before. I've been so shy in front of this boy before, but at least I know now that if he says yes and we go to the dance, I won't be terrible at kissing."

"Yes," he says, opening his eyes and licking his lips, "what a relief."

She stands up from the small ledge they had been sitting on, folding her hands neatly in front of her. "I really appreciate it. I think I'm ready."

Ladybug turns to him, eyes shining behind her mask.

"I don't need to practice anymore. Thank you, Chat."

The bottom falls out of the world and he feels every word like a needle. His veins are like ice.

He'll never kiss her again. He wants to cry.

But he manages a smile and says softly, "Anything for you, My Lady."

He's always had such bad luck.