Coraline, Coraline/Wybie, she climbed up to his window like Romeo did for Juliet
She climbed up his window like Romeo did for Juliet, although she doubted that Romeo tore his pants on the rusted drainpipe in the process. The cat was above her on the roof, smiling down in the way that only cats can - combination of the attitude and will to smirk without all the facial muscles necessary to do so. She flipped him the finger.
Wybie wasn't asleep. He was hunched, probably because he was always hunched, over his desk, fiddling with a mess of tiny electronic wires and metal bits and squinting through a magnifying glass strapped to his head. He didn't turn when she jumped over the windowsill and landed loudly on the floor.
Which was pretty impressive considering all the squealing Wybie had done the first time she yanked his pants off.
She smirked, cat-like, and crept silently towards the working Wybie. In her mind, she was on the African Savannah, a lioness hunting the rarest and sweetest of all meals - the Wybiebeast.
As she closed in, Wybie spun around. The Coraline-cat screeched as a humungous eye stared at her. Wybie screamed as a giant Coraline face screamed at him.
After a moment, they both stopped. Their gazes turned to the door as they listened for the familiar sound of Grandma on the stairs.
"I don't think she heard-"
Coraline took the opportunity to pounce, knocking Wybie off the chair and onto the floor. He grunted in surprise, but didn't have time to respond as Coraline was yanking his jacket off and shoving his t-shirt up over his face.
"Mmmm," she murmured, swirling a finger over the newly-revealed flesh. "Fresh meat."
Wybie's voice was muffled through the fabric. "Coraline, this isn't sexy. It's kind of creepy, actually-"
She crawled over him, straddling his waist. She ran her hands along his ribs, purring to herself. Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to his collarbone.
"If you don't behave," she nipped his neck delicately, "I'll have to rip out your jugular."
There was muffled Wybie-babble underneath the cloth, but Coraline was busy sucking at his pulse. Eventually, the Wybie-babble got too loud and she irritatedly abandoned her quest to give him a hickey in order to sit up and help him remove his shirt. Wybie face, round and flustered, popped free a moment later, followed by a flop of moppish brown hair.
Coraline glared. "What, Why-Born? Still not sexy enough for you?"
"Excuse me, Caroline, but I like a little more romancing before people rip my clothes off."
She continued to frown. "I already climbed through your window in the middle of the night. Do I have to get banished and die too?"
Wybie returned the frown. "No," he said slowly, thinking. "But a little 'Wherefore art thou' and 'you are like the sun' would be nice."
Coraline stared at the ceiling for a long moment. Then she stared at him and cupped his face. "Dearest Wybie, you are such a stud, your hair is like twine and your face looks like mud."
Wybie smiled. "I guess that'll do."
"Good." Coraline pushed him back to the floor. "Now take your pants off."