Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This is bad. Lila is a liar, but Adrien now knows what it feels like to hold all the truth of the world in his hands while also teetering over the abyss of The Fool Who Dug His Own Grave. Sirens of panic blare through his mind. His heart thumps and sweat slickens his palms. How the heck is he supposed to explain why he knows with a hundred percent certainty that Lila has most definitely not been kissing Chat Noir without exposing the fact that he is Chat Noir?

"Well?" Lila demands.

He swallows. Glances to the left, glances to the right. Catches sight of blue-black pigtails. The sirens get louder in his mind and become a messy clash of words like, IDIOT, SAY SOMETHING! DON'T JUST STAND THERE! SAY SOMETHING!

"Because Chat Noir is dating Marinette."

Lila's jaw drops. Adrien wants to clamp his hands over his mouth. Why had he said that?

He risks a glance to the right. Marinette stares at him with wide eyes, a croissant halfway to her lips. It slips from her fingers and hits the desk. The sound shatters whatever spell has kept Lila frozen. She rounds on Marinette, but the rest of the class are already crowding on Marinette and their voices pile over each other as they demand if it's true. Alya and Nino are especially vocal.

"U-um," Marinette says, leaning back from everyone, "I d-don—"

"It's obviously not true," Lila says, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "You just have to look at her face to see that she lied to Adrien."

Marinette meets Adrien's gaze. He bites his lip, gives her apologetic but pleading eyes.

"It's true," Marinette says firmly. "I'm dating Chat Noir."

oOo

"I am so sorry, Marinette," Adrien says once they're alone. "Thank you for going along with that."

"It's okay." She shuts her locker. "But, uh, why did you say it?"

He sighs and leans against the lockers. "I'm just so sick of Lila's lies, and when she asked me how I knew she was lying, I panicked and—"

"You … panicked?"

His eyes widen. He goes very still, like an animal caught in the headlights. "Um …"

The abyss of The Fool Who Dug His Own Grave looms before him again. He really should have stayed home today. Maybe he should just put sellotape over his mouth.

Her head tilts. He can almost see the cogs working in that clever mind of hers.

"Oh, look at the time," he speed mumbles, glancing at his wrist (where there is no watch). "I've gotta go. Got a photoshoot. Thanks again, Marinette!"

He waves quickly to her and flees, even as he wants to bash his head over and over against a wall. He is such an idiot.

Chapter Text

"Girl, I can't believe you've been holding out on me like this!" Alya sits next to Marinette on the chaise and latches onto her shoulders. "You have to tell me everything! When did you start dating? Wait, do you know who he is under the mask? How—"

Marinette leans back, holding her hands up in a warding gesture. "Alya, you've got it all—"

There's a tap from the window. Marinette freezes. Chat Noir is outside, waving. Her eyes go wide. Wider than wide. They are golf balls about to pop from her head. Alya looks from Chat to Marinette with the hugest of delighted grins on her face. Then an elbow pokes Marinette in the stomach—several times.

"It's your boyfriend." Poke, poke, poke. "So, he comes to visit you often, does he?"

"Uh …"

"Damn, girl, you really have been holding out. How did Adrien even find out about this?" Her brow furrows. "You didn't tell him over me, did you?"

"No, but—"

"Ah, never mind that right now. My best friend is dating a super hero! How did it start? Did he save you? Did you meet when he wasn't suited up?" She claps her hands. "Oh, do you think you can both do an interview for the Ladyblog? I mean, the fans will be disappointed, but this is news. You're dating Chat Noir, and—"

"Alya."

Alya closes her mouth (though her arms are still in the air from all her excitable movement).

"I really need to talk to Chat. Alone."

"Aww, you call him Chat."

"Alya!"

Alya lowers her arms. "Right, right. Got it. I'm already leaving. No one will accuse me of third wheeling your date."

Marinette casts a glance at Chat Noir, who is now pointing up as if to say he'll meet her on the balcony. Yeah, this is so not a date. It's the milk splattered on the floor that adages tell her not to cry about.

"But, girl, you've gotta tell me everything later, okay? I have so many questions! I mean I totally thought you were still hot for Adrien."

"Alya!" Marinette stands up, her whole face burning. "Can we please not do this right now?"

"Right. Leaving." Alya backs for the loft hatch, unsubtle grin printed all over her face, and even does finger guns. "Call me later!"

Marinette groans and covers her face with her hands. The moment the hatch clicks shut, she casts a glance towards the computer where Tikki is hiding and then dashes up the ladder to the balcony. Chat is leaning against the railing, all swagger and smiles. Marinette pauses. The suspicions that have been prickling her spine since Adrien ran off to the non-existent photoshoot (she is good at keeping track of those) falters.

Is this really Adrien Agreste? He just seems so … not.

"Hi," he says with a wave.

"Hi …"

"So, I heard about what happened in your school today. You know, with Lila and the whole"—a wink—"you and me dating thing."

"How?"

He blinks.

"How did you find out?" She folds her arms. She is not going to make this easy for him. (Especially because this idiot cat she cherishes as her partner and friend might also be the love of her life. Her heart stutters and flutters at the thought.)

"Adrien told me."

Now it's her turn to blink.

He smiles widely, confidently, as if he has nothing to worry about. "You could say he's a really … close friend."

Another blink. "Um, what?"

"We're close." He shrugs. "But he's not that great under pressure. Sorry about today. He panicked. He does that."

"You're … close?"

This is the thing she is stuck on. Chat Noir and Adrien are close. Not the same person. Close friends.

What on earth does that mean?

A spike of jealousy flares and settles like a lumpy, ugly rock in the pit of her stomach. Oh no, are they dating?

"How close?" she demands, stepping forward and grabbing his arms.

His eyes widen. "Um—"

"I thought you like Ladybug!"

"I do?"

"Then you're just being greedy! You can't have both. It's not fair to Adrien." A frown. "Or Ladybug for that matter."

Or so she says. Mostly, she just can't believe the boy she loves is dating this stupid cat. She thought Kagami was her only competition, but it's her own partner! The same who flirts with her every odd second when she's transformed as Ladybug. The betrayal!

There is confusion in his eyes. Then his mouth forms a small O and he starts laughing. "Wait, you think … you think I'm …"

More laughter. He's laughing and shaking so hard that he has to lean on her for support. Marinette doesn't push him off, but she does frown and pout, tapping her foot. (Her feelings are not to be mocked.)

He straightens and wipes stray tears from his eyes. "Marinette, I'm not dating Adrien."

"You're not?"

"Definitely not. He's more like family."

"Ohhhh."

Well, now she feels like an idiot.

He squeezes her shoulder, smiling with that rare sweetness he sometimes shows. "But I'm sure Adrien and Ladybug would be happy to know you're concerned about their feelings."

Warmth spreads over her cheeks. "Right."

She needs a hole to go crawl in. A really deep one. It's winter. Winter is hibernation time. She could go hibernate for the next few months. Maybe the next few years.

"There is something I wanted to ask you," he says.

She blinks and glances up at him. "Hrm?"

He bites his lip, and for the first time he looks uncertain. "Um, the lie that we're dating …"

"What about it?"

"Could we … would you mind … playing along with it still?"

Her expression goes dead. A plank of wood would have more life. "What?"

"It's just … I've been getting a lot of, uh, awkward attention from fans of late." He rubs the base of his neck and looks the other way. "Unfortunately, no matter how many times I say my heart belongs to Ladybug, they still keep …"

"Oh, Chat." She touches his arm. "I'm sorry. I had no idea."

He forces a weak laugh. "Part of the parcel of being famous, right?" A sigh, and his next words are soft and spoken more for himself. "Probably deserve it after complaining girls were giving all their attention to Adrien."

"Is it really that bad?"

"Let's just say I'd appreciate a break."

Marinette considers him. Now that she thinks about it, ever since he got a little taller and fuller in the muscle department, the fans have been directing their attention a lot more to him. Poor kitty. He's a terrible flirt, but he's a good boy at heart. Maybe she could help him out for a bit. It'll be awkward, but at least it'll stop Lila from spreading more lies about Chat. That's a bonus.

"Okay," she says. "I'll pretend to be your girlfriend."

"You will?"

A nod.

He smiles like sunshine and scoops her up into his arms. Her feet dangle, but she laughs and lets him hug her. It's easy to be close to him like this.

"Thanks, Marinette! You're the best!"

Chapter Text

Adrien, still suited up as Chat Noir, examines the pictures on her bedroom wall. There used to be a whole array of his modelling photos, but most of those have gone. She's replaced them with photographs of her and her friends. There's one from the Hero's Day picnic, a few of the girls dressing up in her designs, her and Alya pulling silly faces. So many casual moments of smiles and laughter. He's in a few of the pictures, at least as his civilian self, but it really is only a few. No need to guess why. His father hardly lets him out of the house except for school and fencing.

"We need rules," Marinette says.

"Huh?"

"Rules. Boundaries." She grabs a notebook and pen from her desk and sits on the chaise. "If we're going to make this fake relationship work, we need a clear list of what we're comfortable doing with each other."

Adrien nods. That's probably a good idea.

He joins her on the chaise. She flips open the notebook and the words "The Rules" are soon written at the top of a page in her neat handwriting. It's kind of cute how serious she's being about this. Then again, this is Marinette. She puts a hundred percent into everything.

"Okay," she says in a business-like tone. "First, physical affection. Couples usually display some kind of physical affection towards each other."

"Hugs are okay with me."

"Me too." She writes that down, then frowns and taps the tip of the pen to her chin. "Though I wonder if hugs are enough …"

She gives him a speculative glance—no, his mouth. The look is like a nudge, a little string that tugs his gaze down to her own lips. Soft. Her lips look so soft and a bit shiny with lip gloss. Does she wear the flavoured kind? Fruit? Something else?

Their eyes meet. Warmth tickles his cheeks. Pink dusts on hers. They both quickly glance the other way.

So awkward.

"Um." He clears his throat. "I don't think we have to go too far. How about we stick with hugs, handholding, and kisses on the cheek?"

"That works for me."

The rule is written, and they both exhale in relief as the I Caught You Staring at My Lips and Know Exactly What You Were Thinking moment is allowed to be forgotten. (Because as much as he's almost kissed her before for Nino's horror film, the thought of kissing her for this pretend relationship, a kiss that would be of their own choosing and not something written in a script, just feels … different.)

A few more rules are added to the list, including when and how they can contact each other. (For obvious reasons, he can't give her his mobile number.) It is also agreed that, aside from his civilian self, no one but Ladybug and Alya are allowed to know the truth. (This is a relief, since he's not sure he could have lied to his partner, especially not about this.)

"Then we're agreed on the rules?" Marinette asks.

He nods and can't help but smile when she gets him to sign the page as if it is a proper legal document. They're officially fake dating now.

She presses the inky tip of the pen to the paper. "Alright. Next is—"

"Pet names."

Her nose scrunches. "Pet names?"

"You've gotta have pet names, Marinette."

She sighs and mutters something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like, "Of course you'd say that." He chooses to ignore this.

"I'll call you princess," he says.

Her nose does that little scrunch thing again. "Princess?"

"It's either princess or maribun."

The look she gives him is the flattest of flat. "That's what you're going with?"

He grins. "Take your pick."

She gives him another of those looks, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek so he doesn't laugh. It seems Marinette, much like Ladybug, does not like being given a pet name. (Of course this means he's going to call her one whenever he can.)

"Fine," she says, sitting up straighter. "You can call me princess, but I'm calling you pookiebear."

"Pookie … bear?"

"That's right. Pookiebear."

The slight curve of her lips and the little gleam in her eyes tells him she thinks she's won this Battle of Pet Names. That attached "bear", that has been done on purpose. The obvious choice is to go cat themed with him, like kitkat, kitty, or even pookiecat if she wants to keep the pookie part. He's a boy in a cat suit. It just makes sense. But no. She chooses pookiebear, because somehow she knows it will grate at his soul every time he hears that tagged-on bear and the missed pun opportunity.

Oh, Marinette is good. Much better than he's given her credit. But she has no idea who she's up against.

He leans closer until they're almost nose to nose. "Why, princess, I pawsitively love it."

Her eye twitches, but she doesn't blink. They hold each other's gaze like two duellists locked in a standoff, staring, staring, staring. His eyebrow quirks. Her lips purse.

"So glad you like it, pookiebear," she manages to say with an impressive attempt at sweetness.

He laughs, unable to hold it in anymore. "Alright, truce. Let's save the pet names for when we're in public."

"Agreed."

The note is added, and they move onto the next big task: figuring out how they started dating.

He loops his arm around her shoulders. "Obviously I swept you off your feet with my good looks and debonair ways."

She slips out from under his arm and presses the tip of her pen to his forehead, pushing him back. "I don't think so. I'm not that shallow."

It's such a Ladybug move that he instinctively leans back in, mischief-grin fixed in place. "Oh? You mean to tell me you're not even a little bit mewved by all this?" He gestures at himself with an elaborate sweep of his hand.

She looks him up and down. "Nope."

"Meowch."

A reluctant smile is teased out of her. "New rule. No more cat puns when you're with me."

"That's like telling me not to breathe."

"I'm sure you'll survive."

Adrien is delighted. His cheeks actually hurt a bit from smiling so much. He had no idea Marinette could be like this. Yes, she's a dear friend and he's always found it endearing the way she stutters and flusters, but now it's like he's seeing a whole new side of her.

"So, how did we fall for each other then?" he asks.

"Hrmm. We can say we met when Evillustrator targeted me. It's true, so it'll be easy for us to remember. After that"—she shrugs—"we ran into each other a few more times, got to know each other, and decided to date."

He rubs his chin. "Simple and arguably true. I like it."

"Right. That just leaves all the rest of the details. We both know people are bound to ask us a lot of questions, and the last thing we need is to contradict each other."

His smile softens. "You really think of everything, don't you?"

"You asked for my help, Chat. I want to make this work for you."

Warmth stirs in his chest. There's no guile in her eyes. Only earnestness and sincerity. She really is his everyday Ladybug.

When he later prepares to head home, he pauses as he passes near the wall with all the pictures.

"Ah, there's one more thing we need to do," he says.

Her brow creases. "What?"

His grin flashes.

The next moment he's standing close to her, one arm looped around her waist and his cheek pressed to hers as they both smile into her Polaroid camera. A couple's photo to celebrate their first day as fake boyfriend and girlfriend. The picture joins the others on her wall, finding a place among snapshots of friends and happy memories.

He's still smiling long after he leaves.

Chapter Text

"I thought it seemed weird you were suddenly dating Chat Noir," Alya's voice says through the phone. "Makes sense now."

Marinette flops back against her bed, clutching her phone to her ear. "Yep, I'm now Chat Noir's fake girlfriend."

"Could be worse. At least he's hot."

"Alya!"

"What? He is."

"You have a boyfriend."

"It's like window shopping. Just because I don't buy doesn't mean I can't appreciate the wares."

Marinette groans. "Nope. No more. Change of subject, please."

A laugh. "Why, Marinette, you're sounding pretty flustered right now. Could it be that you actually—"

"Ugh, no. I know what you're going to say, and the answer is no. I do not like Chat Noir."

"You suuure?"

"Yes! Chat is … he's like …."

"Like?"

An image pops in her mind of him offering her the red rose and leaning in close to kiss her cheek. Warmth spills over Marinette's face. Fine, so he can be charming sometimes, but he's still just a friend. A really good friend.

"Look, I'm just helping him out," she insists. "It's not what you think."

"Uh-huh."

"It's true!"

"Alright, alright. I'll take your word for it. You're always drooling over Adrien anyway."

Marinette's blush darkens. "I don't drool over him."

"Girl, you drool. Like need to mop it up off your chin with a napkin drool. I'm just impressed he hasn't noticed. That boy is oblivious with a capital O."

A sigh. "I think it's more my bad luck. Every time I try to tell him how I feel, something goes wrong. Sometimes I wonder if this is the universe's way of telling me we're not meant to be. Maybe we're just meant to be friends …"

"Have to admit, you do have terrible luck when it comes to him."

"I know, and now even if by some miracle he decides he wants to date me, I won't be able to because I'm pretending to be Chat Noir's girlfriend."

"At least he's in the know. I mean, he's the one who first said you're dating Chat Noir."

"Doesn't that just make it seem even more that he doesn't like me in that way? He basically pushed me onto his friend."

Silence.

"Alya?"

"Sorry, girl. I don't know how to salvage that one for you."

Marinette groans and drapes her arm over her eyes. "I knew it. There's no hope. Adrien will always see me as just a friend."

"You never know. I never thought I could like Nino, yet here I am dating him. Maybe Buttercup just needs some more time, or maybe we should get Ladybug to lock you two up together for a couple of hours."

"I doubt even that would work. Someone would probably free us in a minute."

Alya laughs. "Okay, girl, you're going to gloom yourself into a funk if you keep worrying about this. Let's get back to you and Chat Noir. You'll be using the Ladyblog to go exclusive to the public, right?

"Of course." Marinette switches the phone to her other ear and rolls onto her side, tracing her fingers over the long cat pillow on her bed. "We already agreed we'd do an interview for you. The whole point is to get the more overeager fans to lay off him."

"Perfect. This news is gonna explode."

"Yeah …"

A slight pause. "Hey, you sure you're really up for this?"

Marinette's brow creases. "What do you mean?"

"Chat Noir is hot stuff at the moment. There'll probably be a lot of upset fans who are going to turn their disappointment and jealousy on you."

"It's fine. I can handle it."

"If you're sure, but if things get tough, you know I'll always be here for you."

Marinette's lips curve. "Thanks, Alya."

"No problem. Oh, and Marinette?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry I didn't believe you about Lila. Looks like you were right. If she lied about kissing Chat Noir, she's probably been lying about other things as well."

"It's okay," Marinette says with a shake of her head. "Lila is pretty good at what she does, I'll give her that. She even had me fooled at first."

"But you still saw through her. You tried to warn me as well and I didn't listen. I'm really sorry."

"I was upset you didn't believe me," Marinette admits, "but I'm over it now. I just hope this whole Chat Noir thing will make people think twice about believing everything she says."

"I'm sure it will. Either way, she's been pretty quiet since her lie got exposed. Maybe she's finally learnt her lesson."

"Doubt it, but I hope for her sake she has."

It's the one thing Marinette can never understand. Why does Lila always lie? What's she hoping to gain? Doesn't she understand that people always find out eventually?

"Anyway," Alya says, "about the interview with you and Chat Noir. I was thinking …"

Marinette smiles and listens to Alya chatter about possible questions and whether they should do the interview live or not. It's nice to have her best friend with her for this.

oOo

The next day, the three of them meet on Marinette's balcony to film the interview. Both Marinette and Chat approve all of the questions Alya wrote up for them. One of the good things about having her in the loop is they don't have to worry about unexpected questions.

"Ready?" Alya asks, one finger click away from starting the live stream.

Marinette and Chat share one of the chairs on the balcony. He has his arm around her waist, his body warm against her side. Their eyes meet.

"Well, princess?" he murmurs, quirking his eyebrow.

She snuggles closer. "Ready when you are, pookiebear."

He laughs and turns to Alya, still smiling. "We're ready."

The interview starts. It's easy to answer the questions since they've already rehearsed their answers. He can't resist going off script here and there to make one of his usual cheeky comments, but she rolls with it and throws in a few teasing comments of her own, liberated by the fact that right now she's not Ladybug and they both know this is all an act anyway. He's her partner, one of her best friends. Still, when he tilts her chin up and looks down at her with those green, green eyes, claiming that she's the only girl for him and he wants all of Paris to know it, she can't help the colour that blooms on her face.

Chat's lips curve and his clawed thumb brushes her heated cheek. Her heart stutters. This is not in the script.

"Well, there you have it," Alya says. "Chat Noir is no longer single …"

He lets his hand fall from her face. They both turn to look at the camera as Alya wraps up the interview. Marinette's heart thuds a bit faster, and she's conscious of Chat's thigh pressed against hers and the arm he still has wrapped around her waist. Which is silly. It's just Chat. More importantly, it's all just an act.

"Well, I think that went well," Alya says, putting her phone in her pocket. "You two were really convincing."

Marinette stands up and adjusts her jacket. "Of course. The whole point of this is to make it look real."

"I'd say you succeeded. If I didn't know better, I'd think you're dating."

Chat gets languidly to his feet, stretching like a cat in the sun. "That's because Marinette is an excellent actress."

"You're not so bad yourself," she responds, nudging him in the ribs.

He smiles. Unfortunately, it turns out he can't stay to talk, so he thanks Alya for helping out, places a kiss on the back of Marinette's hand, and then he takes his leave. Marinette's expression is soft as she watches his silhouette get smaller and smaller over the rooftops.

"Girl, you are so in trouble."

"Huh?"

Alya raises her eyebrows. "Don't give me that 'huh'. You two totally have a thing for each other."

"What?" Colour flames on Marinette's cheeks. "We do not."

"Mmhmmm."

"We don't!"

"So you say, but it seems to me like Adrien has competition. Honestly, I think I'm rooting for the cat."

Marinette just groans.

Chapter Text

The school is buzzing with gossip about Marinette and Chat Noir. Swarms of people follow her from class to class like bees, never giving her a moment's peace. Adrien is quick to step in and disperse them, reminding them with his best model smile that class is starting soon or simply asking them to give her some space.

"Thank you," Marinette says as she slings her bag over her shoulder.

He falls into step with her, leaning in close. "It's the least I can do after getting you in this mess," he murmurs in her ear. "Especially with the way this has all blown up."

Pink blooms on her cheeks and she fidgets with one of her pigtails. "Oh, n-no it's fine. I'm the one to agreed who—ah, I-I mean who agreed to date him. It's not like you forced me into it."

He tilts his head, taking in her vivid blush and skittering gaze. "Are you okay?"

"What?"

She looks so panicked and strained, her big blue eyes gazing up at him like a startled rabbit. It's hard to believe this is the same girl who boldly called him pookiebear.

A rueful smile curves his lips. He has no idea what he's done to make her so agitated, but he wants her to be comfortable, so his smile widens and he gives her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Nothing. Just … I'm here."

Her brow creases. "Huh?"

"I know what it's like to be in the spotlight and have attention on you all the time. So, if all the questions and people get too much, let me know." His eyes spark with warmth and a hint of mischief. "I'll get you away from them. Promise."

Her face goes several shades of pink and a dopy smile touches her lips. "You're perfect." The startled rabbit look reappears. "I-I mean that sounds perfect. Thank you."

Except her tone and expression sounds as if she wants to die. He bites the inside of his cheek so he won't laugh. That will probably upset her more.

"That's what friends are for, right?" he says, giving her shoulder another squeeze.

"Right." She slumps and some of the light dims in her eyes. "Friends …"

Adrien's brow furrows. He is really hitting the wrong note with her today.

oOo

The akuma strikes during his final class for the day. Mr Pigeon at it again.

"So, I hear you have a girlfriend," Ladybug says once everything has been set back to normal and it's just the two of them left on the rooftop. "Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

Adrien's cheeks warm, much to his embarrassment. He's not even sure why he's blushing. "She's … she's not really my girlfriend."

He explains the situation. Ladybug is sympathetic and asks why he never said anything to her about the crazy fans.

He sits on the edge of the roof, tail swishing. "I … found it too awkward, I guess."

"Why?"

He shrugs and hugs his knee to his chest. "Kind of seemed like boasting."

A tiny giggle escapes. "Wait, you were worried about sounding as if you were boasting? You, Chat Noir?"

The giggle turns into bubbling laughter, and while he would normally melt at the sound, right now he throws her an irritated glance.

"That's what super heroes do! They boast and make jokes and—stop laughing, Ladybug!"

"Okay, okay." She holds her hands out in an appeasing gesture and sits next to him. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't laugh."

His tail swishes faster and he pouts at the view of rooftops and sky.

"Kitty."

More pouting.

"Kitty, I'm sorry. I'm listening. I won't laugh anymore."

"Forget it. It's obvious this is just a joke to you."

She touches his arm. "It's not. Honestly, it's not. If I had known the fans were distressing you this much, I … I would have helped."

His eyes widen. For a wild moment he imagines what would have happened had he said her name in the classroom.

"Because Chat Noir is dating Ladybug."

Would they be the ones fake dating now? Would he be able to hold his lady, give her cheek kisses, tell her she meant the world to him, and … have her respond back?

Oddly, the thought doesn't fill him with pleasure. Not really. It's more like a puncture to the chest. He loves Ladybug, but he doesn't want her to say those words to him unless she means them. He doesn't want her to hold him or kiss him unless she wants to, not because she feels obliged.

Besides, he's having fun with Marinette. There are no entangled feelings of love and rejection, and he likes spending time with her. Likes seeing new sides to her. (Because he's only caught her sassy spark in glimpses.) A smile tugs his lips when he thinks of their fake dating contract, and the way her eyes gleamed when she told him the pet name she'd given him.

"Kitty?"

He blinks and looks at Ladybug. A distinct beep comes from his ring. "Guess that's my cue," he says, standing.

She also gets to her feet.

"Don't worry, M'Lady. Marinette is helping me out, and I won't let this interfere with work." A slight crease forms on his brow. "Though there is one thing that worries me …"

"What?"

"Hawkmoth. What if he tries to target her?"

Ladybug slaps her palm to her forehead. "Stupid. I didn't think of that."

He blinks. That was not the reaction he had expected.

She catches his eye and quickly lowers her hand. "Ah, well, you know after what happened with Chloe's family, you probably should have been more careful. There's a reason we keep our identities a secret."

"I know, I know. If I had thought of it sooner, I wouldn't have asked her to help me."

Ladybug's expression softens. "Well, she seems like a tough girl, and I'm sure between the two of us we can protect her. Besides, it's too late to take it back now. The video is out there."

"Yeah." He rubs the base of his neck. "I guess it is."

Another beep, and this time her earrings join in.

"I should probably get going," he says, pulling out his baton. "Until next time, M'Lady."

There's no wink, no kiss on the hand. It doesn't feel right anymore, even if his relationship with Marinette is fake.

"Kitty?"

He glances back at her.

"I … I just want you to know that you can talk to me about anything. I know we're partners, but you're my friend as well."

He smiles, gives a cheerful salute, and jumps off the roof.

Chapter Text

"Why'd you come?" Marinette says, hugging her arms around herself as she shivers against the icy breeze. "It's freezing tonight."

Chat Noir smiles and tucks his baton into its holster. "Just wanted to check in. See how you're going and all."

"You could have messaged me."

He leans down so he's closer to her level. "Ah, but then I wouldn't get to see you."

Her cheeks warm, but she rolls her eyes and pushes him by his back towards the ladder. "Fine, but come inside. It's too cold out here."

There's scrunched up bits of paper left on her floor where she'd been tossing rejected designs. She hurries to pick them up, apologising for the mess. He bends down to help and sneaks a peak at one.

"Nice dress," he says.

She snatches the paper off him. "It's not nice. It's terrible."

A hint of sympathy enters his voice. "Having a rough time with the designing?"

"Yes, I—" She blinks. Wait, since when did Chat Noir know she does fashion design? They've never spoken about it.

"If it's you making it, I'm sure it'll turn out amazing," he continues, heedless to her growing confusion. "You're really talented."

"How?"

Now it's his turn to blink.

"How do you know I do design?"

"Oh." He rubs the base of his neck, looking off to the side. "Well, uh, I mean you designed Jagged Stone's album cover, and, uh, Adrien might have told me some things."

"Adrien?"

"Yeah."

Her heart stirs in a fluttery rush. "Adrien talks about me?"

"Of course." Chat Noir winks. "He's one of your biggest fans. I mean, that hat you made for the Gabriel show was on point."

She wants to melt into mushy goo. Adrien talks about her. Even praises her.

"Uh, Marinette?" A clawed hand waves in front of her face.

She shakes her head. Right. Focus. There are more important things to discuss.

"Can I ask you something?" she asks as she dumps the scrunched up designs in the bin.

"Sure."

"Does … Adrien know who you are?"

His teeth flash in a smile and he leans in so he's nose to nose with her. "Why? Curious to know who I am underneath the mask?"

She pushes him back with a finger to his forehead. "No."

"Meowch." He throws his hand across his heart. "The princess is cruel tonight, and after I came all this way in the cold …"

Her lips twitch. "Be serious, Chat Noir. Does Adrien know or not?"

He drops the theatrics and looks at her with a slight frown. "Why?"

"I just … I'm worried, I guess. He's my friend, and wouldn't it put him danger if he knew about you? Hawkmoth might make him a target."

The smile returns to his eyes and he places his hand on her shoulder. "You know, he's really lucky to have you as a friend, Marinette. But you don't have to worry. I know better than to spill that secret." He lowers his hand back to his side and his tone turns wistful. "I wouldn't want to disappoint Ladybug."

"Ladybug?"

"She doesn't want us to reveal our identities. Not with each other, not with anyone. I know why it has to be this way, but …"

"But what?"

He shakes his head with an odd smile, almost self-deprecating. "It's nothing. Anyway, I didn't come here to talk about Ladybug. How is everything going for you?"

She joins him on the chaise and they talk—about the attention (good and bad) she's been receiving since the interview, about simple every-day things like her designs and school. It's easy to talk to him. Even better, it turns out he's a genius at physics and is more than happy to help her with her homework.

They shift to sit on the floor, her books spread out in front of them. He twirls a pen while she looks through the homework to find the questions that are giving her particular trouble.

"You really don't have to stay and do this," she says in a token offer. (Physics is not her best subject, and she knows she will be here for hours trying to complete everything on her own.)

"It's fine." He smiles and bumps her shoulder. "Besides, I like spending time with you."

"But what about your family? Won't they be worried if you're gone too long?"

His expression closes off. It's like watching a veil fall down, dimming the light in his eyes.

"Chat?"

His lips quirk. "It'll be fine, Marinette. Trust me."

Chapter Text

Adrien clicks on the Ladyblog web page, scrolling down, down, down. His eyes widen and he almost spits out his water. The comments section for the interview is a mess of negativity and bullying remarks, and they're all directed at Marinette.

kittynoir84: Who does this Marinette girl think she is?

chatsg1rl: She's not even that pretty. Chat Noir can do way better.

blondsdoitbetter: this is the girl who went on a date with adrien agreste! what a slut. she clearly just wants a famous boyfriend.

ladynoir4eva: The only person for Chat Noir is Ladybug! This nobody needs to back off!

Adrien's eyes narrow and he places down his cup a little too hard. The comments only get worse the more he reads.

"You alright, kid?" Plagg asks.

"Yeah, fine. I just have some comments to write."

oOo

He finds Marinette later sitting on a bench at the park, bundled up in a coat and a pink scarf. Her sketchbook is next to her, but her shoulders are slumped and she's staring at her phone. Damn. She must have seen the comments, just as he feared. Well, time for some cheering up.

Adrien jumps down from the building and approaches, tucking his baton in its holster. "Hi, Marinette."

She yelps and her phone goes flying. He catches it easily with his heightened reflexes.

"Careful," he says, smiling as he gives the phone back to her.

"Chat. You gave me a fright."

"Not intentional." He places his hand over his heart. "Cat's honour."

Her lips twitch and she makes room for him on the bench. It's a cold day with a sky as grey as concrete, but there are still kids playing on the carousel and a few people walking their dogs. Adrien resists the urge to huddle into himself. Now that he's not moving, the icy dampness in the air seems to sink right through his suit. Still, he's here for a reason and he's not going to let a bit of cold stop him.

"Did you see the Ladyblog?" he asks.

She groans and places her face in her hands. He can't make out the words she mumbles into her palms.

"Hey." He rubs her back and leans down so their faces are close. "I know it sucks to have people say mean things about you, but none of it is true. You know that, right? Those people are just jealous and don't know you. Try to listen to the good ones, like SirPawsalot. That guy really knows what he's on about."

Her fingers spread so she can peep at him from between the gaps. "I knew it."

"Huh?"

"You're SirPawsalot."

He stiffens. "What? No, I—"

She lowers her hands and gives him a look.

He scratches his cheek. "Was it that obvious?"

"Obvious and embarrassing."

"Embarrassing?"

She brings up the Ladyblog on her phone. "Are you people blind?" she reads from one of his comments. "Marinette is so pretty. Just look at her. That smile, those bright blue eyes, those cute freckles. Plus, she's one of the nicest girls in Paris. Of course Chat Noir would want to date her. Anyone would be lucky to call such an amazing girl their girlfriend."

He tilts his head. "What?"

"What do you mean 'what'? You went way over the top."

"But you are really pretty."

Her face goes a sunset of colour. "W-what?"

"I mean it. You're really pretty and you're always so nice and—"

She presses her hand to his mouth. "Okay, okay, stop."

His lips curve against her palm. It's cute the way she gets so flustered.

She removes her hand. "Look, you don't have to defend me like that."

"Of course I do. It's my fault you're even being treated this way."

"I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to be your girlfriend. I can handle it."

"Maybe so, but I still can't sit back and do nothing when people make rude comments about you. I won't do it."

"Chat …"

He smiles and holds both her hands. "Every princess needs a knight. Let me be yours for this."

Her blush darkens. "You're as bad as Alya. She's been ranting and deleting comments all morning."

"That's because she cares." He gently squeezes her hands. "Like I do."

Her gaze darts to his. He winks, earning a fresh bloom of pink on her cheeks.

"Alright, fine," she sighs. "But tone it down a little. It's embarrassing having you say all that stuff about me."

"I'm just saying the truth."

"Chat!"

He laughs and holds his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay. I'll try to tone it down, even though I am just saying the truth."

She holds his gaze, lips pursed slightly, but her eyes are like sun rays dappling bluebells, all softness and warmth. It's obvious she's touched.

"There," he says, slinging his arm around her shoulder. "Now we're—oh, you're warm." He snuggles closer and wraps both arms around her. "Marinette, you've been holding out on me all this time."

"You never said you were cold."

"I am, and now I'm claiming fake boyfriend rights to cuddle you and steal all your warmth."

She giggles and slips her hands free of the hug, but only so she can unwind the scarf and wrap it around them both. "Better?"

He grins. "Much better. Thank you for sharing."

There's a distinct whistle. Both turn their heads to see Alya and Nino smiling at them from not far away. Alya, of course, is taking pictures. Marinette flushes and hides her face against Adrien's chest, groaning at Alya to stop.

"No way, girl. This shot is priceless."

"Looking good, Marinette!" Nino calls.

The girl in question just gives another groan and burrows even more into Adrien. "Get us out of here," she pleads.

Adrien laughs, loops the scarf back around her neck, and then scoops her up into his arms. "As the princess wishes."

Then they're off, leaving the park far behind.

Chapter Text

Marinette is surprised when she hears the familiar tap, tap on her skylight door. It's pouring with rain outside. Surely he's not here? She goes up to check (just in case), and there he is on the balcony, tail and ears drooping. His hair is plastered to his face.

"Chat! What are you—you're completely soaked!"

"Sorry," he mumbles. "I … I didn't … I just …"

"Tell me about it inside."

She tugs on his arm, and he lets her lead him down into her bedroom without resistance. He's dripping water everywhere, a fact he doesn't seem to notice. It's like he's not really there with her—not until she shifts her clasp to his hand and squeezes.

"Chat."

His green eyes lock with hers. Awareness breaks through the haze of listlessness, and he looks down at the puddle he's creating. "Ah, I'm so sorry, Marinette."

"It's fine. Wait here, okay? I'll get you a towel."

When she returns, he's still standing in the same place by her bed, looking bedraggled and oddly vulnerable. Protectiveness swells within her. Maybe that's why she pulls on his shoulders to get him down to her level so she can towel-dry his hair. He's as compliant as putty. They're both quiet, standing close. Little drips of water continue to fall from his suit. His head tilts and he looks at her with those green, green eyes.

"What?" she asks, heat grazing her cheeks.

"You're really nice, you know that?"

Her blush darkens and she focuses on his hair. "Did you think I'd turn you away or something? What were you even doing out in the rain?"

"I … had a fight with my father."

Her hands still. "Oh."

"It seems so stupid now. I don't even know why I got so mad when I know what he's like."

"You have fights with him often?"

He gives an odd little shrug. "Can't really fight with someone you barely see."

"Oh, Chat." She lets the towel fall to the floor and pulls him into her arms. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, you're gonna get wet."

She hugs him tighter. "I don't care."

He hesitates for a heartbeat before he crumples into the embrace, holding her like she's a lifeline. It's obvious this is what he needs—basic human touch, someone to hold him. Dampness creeps into her pyjamas, shivers against her skin. He burrows his face into her hair and his fingers press into the small of her back.

That's when the purring starts.

He pulls away, purr stuttering and pink spilling out from under his mask. "Um … I did not mean to do that."

She smiles. "You really are like a cat."

His blush darkens and he bites his lip.

"There's no need to look so embarrassed. I think it's cute."

She reaches up to scratch behind one of his leather ears. Sure enough, the purring starts again.

"H-hey," he protests, placing his hand over his ears so she can't get to them.

"Sorry. I was just curious."

He does that cute little lip bite thing. "I'm still a boy, you know. You can't just pet me."

"You're right. I'm sorry."

His expression softens and he shrugs, lowering his hands. "Well, I have to admit it does feel nice."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's actually pretty relaxing."

"Then … do you want me to do it again?"

He fidgets and blushes and shifts from foot to foot before he finally nods. She bites back a smile and sits on the bed, getting him to lie down and rest his head on her lap. Now it's easy to thread her hands through his hair and play with his soft cat ears. His purr is a vibrating accompaniment to the sound of the rain, low and steady.

He doesn't mention his father again, and maybe that's for the best. The less she knows about his personal life, the less she can piece together his identity. But she's still determined to be there for him in any way she can. It's the least she can do for a friend.

"Thanks for tonight, Marinette," he says as he's about to leave. "I didn't mean to come here, but I'm glad I did now."

"Anytime, Chat."

She pulls him into a last hug. He returns it briefly but readily, then gives her a soft smile and departs through the skylight.

Chapter Text

"So, you're coming to my place after school, right?" Nino asks.

Adrien opens his locker and gets his books for class. "Sorry, Nino. My fa—"

"Ugh, again?"

Adrien's shoulders slump. "He … thinks I've been too distracted lately."

"Distracted with what? He barely lets you do anything outside the schedule he plans for you anyway."

Adrien stares at the inside of his locker. He's asked himself over and over why his father keeps denying him chances to spend time with his friends. No grades have slipped. Piano, fencing, modelling, and language studies are all going well. It doesn't make sense. It doesn't seem fair.

He's been trying so hard.

Adrien puts on a strained smile. "Maybe next week he'll let me."

Nino is not impressed with this answer. He goes on a long, long rant and suggests that Adrien just come over anyway and have fun for once.

"I can't," Adrien says with a sigh.

"Of course you can. Rebelling against authority goes hand in hand with being a teenager. Your dad will be mad, sure, but what's the worst he can do? Stop you from going out? Dude, he already does that."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

"Then what?"

Adrien closes the locker. "He could take me out of this school."

Nino's eyes widen. "He would do that?"

"He's already threatened to."

There's a loud thunk. Both boys turn to see Marinette wincing and rubbing her head.

"You okay?" Adrien asks.

Her cheeks flare pink. "Fine, fine. Just walked my door into locker. I-I mean I just walked into my locker door." She pats the door and flashes a grin too wide to be natural. "Gotta be careful with these things."

Adrien moves closer and examines the swelling on her forehead. "Looks like you hit yourself pretty hard. You've got a bump forming."

"Honestly, I'm fine."

"We'll let the nurse be the judge of that." He grabs her hand and turns to Nino. "Can you let Ms Mendeleiev know I'm taking Marinette to the nurse?"

Nino glances at their joined hands and his eyebrows inch closer to his hat. "Sure, man."

"Thanks."

oOo

The nurse isn't in the sickbay. Adrien guides a pink-cheeked Marinette to sit on one of the beds and rummages for an icepack.

"You don't have to do this," Marinette says. "I really am fine, and you know what Ms Mendeleiev is like. You'll probably get in trouble for coming here with me instead of going to class."

"I don't mind."

"But—"

"Ah, I get it. I'm not a good enough nurse for you, is that it?"

"W-what? No, I'm sure you'd make a perfect—"

He laughs. "I'm just teasing."

A smile peeps out on her lips.

He sits next to her on the bed and holds the icepack near her forehead. "May I?"

Colour dusts her cheeks and she nods. He gently brushes her fringe aside so he can place the icepack against the swollen lump. The dreamy look returns, the same she's been giving him ever since he held her hand.

His brow creases. He hopes she doesn't have a concussion. Her pupils are a bit dilated, but the word scrambling and moments of glazed-eyed absence are things she does quite a lot around him. (He's never figured out why. She's so different when he's Chat Noir.)

Something shifts in her expression and she lowers her gaze. "Um, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Is your dad really threatening to take you out of school?"

His eyes widen. "You heard that?"

"Sorry. Couldn't help it."

"It's okay." He brushes more of her fringe aside in an absent gesture. "Father … he's never liked me coming here. Putting me back into homeschool wouldn't be a big deal to him."

"Then it could happen?"

He forces a smile. "Not if I keep him happy."

He hopes. The rules change so much with Father that Adrien is never quite sure what expectations he's supposed to be meeting.

Maybe Marinette hears the hollowness in his voice. "Does keeping him happy mean you won't be allowed to spend time with us outside school now? Is that why you're no longer in the band?"

Adrien goes quiet. Getting forced out of Kitty Section is what triggered this whole mess. He'd lost his temper, and his father had been quick to seize on that spike of anger and blame it on his friends. The next thing Adrien had known, the threat of homeschool was looming back over his head.

"Adrien?"

He adjusts the icepack. "Probably not at the moment. Father wants to keep me away from distractions and bad influences," he says in an exaggerated tone, trying to joke.

"He thinks we're bad influences?"

"He's like that sometimes, but I know you're not. You, Nino—everyone here. Being friends with you all is the best thing that's happened to me."

Her eyes widen and a soft smile touches her lips. "You mean that?"

"Of course."

He hadn't meant to be so honest, but he's not ashamed of his feelings either. He won't deny them.

"Then I'm glad we became friends," she says.

"Me too."

Comfortable silence settles. He expects that to be the end of the conversation, but her lips soon purse and little creases form on her brow.

"What?" he says.

"It's just not fair your dad is doing this. Nino is right that you haven't done anything wrong. You're like the most perfect person I know."

He's surprised into a laugh. "I'm really not perfect, but thanks, Marinette."

"You're perfect to me." Pink instantly floods her cheeks and her eyes go big like a startled rabbit. "I mean as a friend! You're a perfect friend!" She laughs in a too strained way and doesn't meet his gaze.

His eyes crinkle into a smile. "Thanks."

Chapter Text

"Have to give it to you, Marinette," Nino says with a grin as the gates to the Agreste mansion open for them. "I never thought of doing it this way before."

Marinette clutches her stack of books to her chest, her heart pounding. In truth, she can't believe her plan worked. The old "group project" ploy had seemed kind of flimsy, but Stern Secretary Lady had accepted it without a bat of an eyelash. Now they were in.

"This way," Stern Secretary Lady says.

They head up the stairs, and Marinette can't help but stare at the big, framed photo that dominates the foyer. She's never understood why this one got chosen to feature in such prominent view. Adrien looks so sad in it. It's not a familiar expression on him. (And she has gazed adoringly at many, many photos of him.) He's always so sweet and full of smiles.

Stern Secretary Lady clears her throat. Her cool stare is a reprimand in itself.

"Sorry," Marinette mumbles, hurrying to catch up.

Probably not a good idea to get on Stern Secretary Lady's bad side.

oOo

"I can't believe you're here," Adrien says once the door is shut and the click-clack of Stern Secretary Lady's heels has faded.

"Thank Marinette," Nino says, accepting Adrien's hug. "She's the one who thought we should say we're doing a group project together."

Adrien's arms come around her and pull her in close. Heat blooms on her cheeks. It's a very, very snuggly hug. She hesitates only a second before allowing herself to melt into him. (He smells wonderful, like soap and clean linen and Adrien. His hair is also a bit damp, so she thinks he might have just showered.)

"Thank you," he murmurs in her ear. "I'm really glad you're here."

Marinette's face is so hot she's sure she must resemble a beetroot, but she manages to smile as he pulls back. "Anything for a friend."

His answering smile is warmer than sunshine and makes her knees a little weak. Undiluted Adrien affection (especially after almost two weeks of only getting to see him in class) is some powerful stuff.

"Alya would be here as well," Nino says, "but she had to babysit her sisters."

"But she'll definitely come next time," Marinette assures.

Adrien tilts his head. "Next time?"

"That's the beauty of this plan," Nino says with a broad grin. "A group project means we have to meet more than once."

Adrien looks as if he wants to hug them again, but he settles for placing his hand on their shoulders. "Thank you. I mean it."

oOo

The plan to spend time with Adrien under the guise of homework goes well, aside from the fact Marinette spills juice all over herself and the sofa. She blushes and apologises for being such a klutz. It seems to be her curse to make a clumsy mess wherever she goes.

"It's fine," Adrien says. "I think you got yourself more than the sofa anyway."

She pulls a face at the sticky wetness now seeping through her shirt and pants. He's right about that. Ugh, there's even some in her hair.

"You can use my shower if you want," he says. "I'll get you some clean clothes as well."

Marinette blinks.

"Unless you're not comfortable with that," he's quick to add, eyes widening. "I just figured you'd rather not be covered in juice."

"Yes!"

Now it's Adrien's turn to blink. "Um, yes?"

Her cheeks dust with pink. "I mean, a shower and some clean clothes would be good."

He smiles and pats her on the shoulder before going off to grab some clothes for her. Marinette presses her hands to her mouth to hold back the little squeal of glee that wants to escape. She gets to use Adrien's shower and wear his clothes!

Nino pushes a crisp into his mouth, watching her from the sofa. Her blush darkens and she quickly lowers her hands and looks the other way.

Awkward.

oOo

"Um, they're a bit big," Marinette says, coming out of the bathroom.

Adrien stands up at her entrance and his lips curve. No doubt he thinks she looks ridiculous. He's so much taller than her, so his hoodie looks more like a dress when she wears it. The pants have been rolled up several times and still droop all baggily.

She blushes and chews on her lip, fingering her loose, damp hair. He's still staring at her. It's hard not to feel self-conscious. Then she notices that they're the only ones in the room.

"Where's Nino?" she asks.

"Phone call. He said it shouldn't take long."

"Oh."

She comes and sits next to him on the sofa, facing rigidly ahead. It's impossible to relax. Adrien won't stop staring, and she doesn't know why.

"W-what?" she says, unable to handle it any longer. "Do I really look that strange in your clothes?"

"No. No, of course not. It's just your hair …"

"My hair?"

He touches a lock of her hair, twining the blue-black strand around his finger. "I've never seen you wear it loose before."

Her heart stutters and thumps, and her eyes widen. There's so much fluttering inside her, but her mind gets stuck on a repeat of Adrien is touching my hair, Adrien is touching my hair!

Adrien blinks as if he just realises what he's doing. He pulls his hand back. "Sorry."

"It's okay."

But her cheeks are hot and she can't quite meet his gaze. He's not doing much better. His own face looks a bit pink and he rubs the base of his neck, looking off to the side.

Nino comes back into the room. "Alright, let's get this party back in busine—" He pauses, gaze shifting between the two of them. "Uh, did I miss something?"

Adrien and Marinette share a pink-flushed glance.

"No," they say in unison.

Except she knows that's not true, and it's a long time before her drumming heart and all the flutters settle down for her.

Chapter Text

Adrien spins the green charm on the bracelet, watching it go round and round.

"Seems like someone has a crush."

Adrien almost drops the bracelet. "W-what?"

Plagg grins and pops a piece of cheese into his mouth. "You heard me."

"Don't be ridiculous. Marinette is …"

"Mhmm?"

Adrien closes his fingers around the charm, hiding it in his fist. "Mariette is just a friend. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"I'd believe it more if you didn't sit there staring at that bracelet she gave you like some besotted sop."

Heat crawls up Adrien's cheeks. "It's not like that."

"Mhmm."

"It's not. Besides, I'm in love Ladybug, you know that, and—stop giving me that look!"

Plagg laughs. "I'm just calling it how it is, kid."

Adrien snatches the last bit of cheese from him before he can stuff it into his cheese-vacuum mouth. "Well, you're wrong. My heart only belongs to Ladybug."

"Fine, I'm wrong. Can I have my cheese back now?"

Adrien frowns at the little cat kwami before he sighs and hands the piece of cheese back over. He stands up from his desk and moves to the window. The lucky charm bracelet is warm against his skin. Marinette would probably be working on her designs right now, or maybe some homework she forgot about. She's always up late.

He uncurls his fingers and looks at the bracelet resting on his palm.

"Just go visit her," Plagg says, rolling his eyes. "It's obvious you want to."

Adrien bites his lip. Having her come around with Nino and Alya for the "group project" has been great, but the truth is he does want to visit her. He's missed their late night conversations. He's missed it being just the two of them.

"I'm only going because she's my friend," he feels the need to say.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's just get this over with."

oOo

"Chat!" Marinette says with a bright smile. "I wasn't expecting you tonight."

He offers her a pink rose with great flourish. "What kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn't visit you now and then?"

She laughs and welcomes him inside. The rose is put in a vase and the two of them settle on her chaise, talking with an ease that's as comfortable as sinking into an old, favourite chair. Time is forgotten. When his eyelids start to droop, he tells himself he'll head home soon, but then Marinette challenges him to a game of Ultimate Mecha Strike III, and he can't turn that down. He's still determined to beat her at least once.

She kicks his butt over and over until he finally scores a win.

"Yes!" he says, punching his fist to the air. "Take tha—"

His elation is cut short when he sees the controller is slack in her hands and she's fast asleep. A faint smile curves his lips. He places his controller down, turns off everything, and carefully scoops her up into his arms. She snuggles into him, eyes still shut. Warmth stirs in his chest. A subtle but familiar scent teases his senses: a blend of apple and flowers.

Much like Ladybug's scent.

His eyes widen as he finally makes the connection. No wonder Marinette's scent had always seemed so familiar.

"You and Ladybug have good taste," he murmurs.

He carries her up to her bed and, doing his best not to jostle her, lays her down and pulls the throw blanket over her. Some of her fringe has fallen forward, dangling over her shut eyes. He can't resist gently brushing it aside.

"Goodnight, Marinette," he whispers.

He's barely pulled back when her hand latches onto his. He freezes. Is she awake?

"Marinette?"

Her soft, steady breathing is the only response. Her eyelashes don't even flutter.

Adrien bites his lip. He should go. It's late, he's tired, she's either asleep or half asleep, so there's no point staying here any longer.

But she's still holding his hand.

"Okay, just a little longer," he says, sitting next to her on the bed. "But then I'm going home."

She offers no response except a snuffly little breath. He smiles and leans his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. A humming purr is lulled out of him.

They're still holding hands when he dozes off.

oOo

Adrien wakes to warmth and the scent of apples and flowers. His brow creases. There's some kind of fluffy thing tickling his nose.

"Plagg," he grumbles. "I told you not to sleep near my face."

He tries to push the little cat kwami away, but his hand brushes against something much bigger and less furry. His frown deepens. A few more blind pats result in a very non-Plagg-like groan. Something thumps over his chest and another weight settles over his hips.

Adrien's eyes snap open and he bolts up as if zapped. Marinette's arm slides off his chest with the motion, but her leg manages to remain hooked around him. His eyes go wide like saucers. Hers are sleepy blue and blink up at him.

"Chat?" she says in a husky voice.

"I'm so sorry," he blurts with the speed of water gushing from a broken dam. "I didn't mean to sleep here. It's just you fell asleep and I didn't want to wake you, so I brought you to your bed and—"

"Chat."

"—I swear I didn't do anything creepy. I just was really tired as well and—"

"Chat!"

He closes his mouth, eyes wide and body tense.

"It's okay," she says.

He blinks. "It's okay?"

"Of course. I trust you." Pink dusts her cheeks. "Plus, I think I was the one who, er, latched onto you."

They both glance at her leg, which is still hooked around his hips. He blushes. Marinette pulls away from him and sits up.

That's when the loft hatch is opened and her father pokes his head up. "Marinette, I heard your voice and—" His jaw drops. "Is that … Chat Noir in your bed?"

Adrien freezes. Oh no.

Chapter Text

Marinette holds her hands out in an appeasing gesture. "Dad, this isn't what it looks like."

"It's really not," Chat is quick to assure, jumping off the bed with cat-like speed as her dad advances for the ladder. "I swear I haven't touched your daughter." A pause. "Uh, well, I mean I have—"

Tom's eyebrows rise.

"—but not like that!" Chat adds, blushing and waving his hands in frantic motions. "I have definitely not touched her like … like that."

Marinette slaps her palm to her forehead. "You are not helping," she hisses under her breath.

Chat's leather ears and tail droop.

Tom climbs up the ladder and towers over them, arms crossed. Marinette winces. Chat makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like "meep". Then a smile splits across her dad's face and he's suddenly yanking Chat into a bone-crushing hug.

"Well, it's about time!" Tom exclaims.

Marinette blinks.

"I'm sorry, what?" Chat says. He sounds a bit breathless from the hug. His feet are still dangling above the floor.

"Marinette was too embarrassed to invite you over so Sabine and I could meet you."

"You have met him," Marinette points out.

"Not properly," Tom responds. "Not as your boyfriend."

"We haven't even been dating that long. Why would I bring him over to meet you?"

"Didn't stop you from inviting him into your bed, though," her mum's voice chimes in.

Marinette's cheeks burn. Her mum stands near the loft hatch, but it's hard to tell if her expression is reproving or not.

Chat manages to get one arm free. "Um, hi," he says, giving an awkward wave.

Sabine purses her lips, but a smile glimmers in her eyes. "Why don't you let Chat Noir down, dear, and we can take this to the kitchen. I think we all need to have a talk."

"Oh, right," Tom says, and lowers Chat back to his feet.

Marinette buries her face in her pillow so she can muffle her groan.

oOo

The conversation is awkward. So, so awkward.

Marinette explains that she and Chat sometimes spend time together in her room, but it's never been about kissing or … or that kind of stuff. The only reason he visits is because they don't get many other chances to see each other. (She doesn't think it's a good idea to tell her parents the relationship is fake, and while Chat gives her a surprised look, he offers no correction.) Fortunately, her parents accept the explanation. Unfortunately, it doesn't stop them from giving Marinette and Chat the safe sex talk.

Chat is blushing so fiercely he's starting to look more like Ladybug's red and black combo. His eyes are huge and he keeps tugging at his collar and shooting Marinette awkward glances.

Marinette resists the urge to bang her head against the table. "Dad, Mum, you really don't need to do this. The most Chat and I have done is hug and hold hands. It was an accident he even fell asleep on my bed!"

"You're fifteen, Marinette," Sabine says in her calm way, "and when two people like each other and are alone—"

"Ugh, no!" Marinette groans, and this time just lets her forehead thunk against the table. "Make it stop."

Her parents smile at her antics but don't stop the torture. Only when Marinette and Chat can barely look at each other without burning up into twin beetroots do her parents desist with their helpful advice and warnings.

"Well," Chat says, bolting up from his chair, "that was, uh … that was something." He gives a stiff bow. "Mr Dupain, Mrs Cheng, it was nice to meet you again, but I really need to get back home now."

It's like he's become wooden. He turns rigidly and marches for the door, his face bright red. Marinette mouths an apology to him as he passes.

"Wait," Tom says. "I have something for you."

Chat freezes. "Oh?"

Tom bustles off and comes back, slipping something small into Chat's hand.

"Just in case," Tom says.

Chat opens and closes his mouth like a goldfish, just staring at the thing resting on his palm. The poor boy is positively glowing with his blush.

"I think you broke him," Sabine observes in an amused tone.

Marinette stands up to get a better look at what he got given, and lets out a shriek. "Dad! You gave him a condom?"

"Better to be prepared than take chances. I remember what it was like to be a teenager and—"

She clamps her hands over her ears. "Nope. Not listening. La, la, la, la."

"I-I really go have to now," Chat says, scrambling for the door handle. "I m-mean have to go now."

"Yes!" Marinette says. "He has to go. Now."

Their eyes meet in a mirror of pure panic and mortification. He scrambles for the door handle again, fumbling and half-tripping over his feet with less grace than her on her clumsiest days.

"Come again!" Tom calls. "Let's have breakfast together next time."

"But maybe use the front door," Sabine advises teasingly.

Chat nods at them several times—too fast. "S-sure. Uh, bye, Marinette."

"Bye," she says, and thunks her head against the table.

Chapter Text

Adrien is lucky that he gets back home just as Nathalie is threatening to open the door to his bedroom and wake him. Getting scolded for sleeping in is infinitely better than having his father discover he stayed over at a girl's house. Not that the rest of Adrien's day goes well. He's distracted during his Chinese lessons, messes up his piano recital, and even the photographer complains about his lack of presence during his modelling shoot.

"Still thinking about the baker's daughter?" Plagg teases as Adrien changes back into his usual clothes.

"Shut up," Adrien mutters.

"Ohh, you're going red."

"What? No, I'm not."

"Are too."

Adrien folds his arms. "Well, it's not because of what you think! I'm just … it's just …"

"Yes?"

The warmth in Adrien's cheeks spreads to the tips of his ears and down his neck. "Her parents really thought we … I mean they gave me a …

"A what?" Plagg's teeth flash in a sly grin.

Adrien groans and grabs at his hair, disrupting the style to give him more of his Chat Noir messiness. "I'm never going to be able to face Marinette again."

oOo

In the end, she's the one who messages him. He panics and almost throws his phone across the room when he sees the alert, much to Plagg's amusement.

"You gonna respond to that or keep staring at your phone like it's an akuma?" Plagg asks.

Adrien glances from his kwami to the phone and then back again. He takes a deep, deep breath and unlocks the phone. It's just Marinette, he tells himself. There's no reason to get so worked up. Marinette is a friend. A wonderful friend. Just because her parents assumed that he was getting hot and heavy with her in her bed (or that he was planning to) does not mean that he has to make things weird.

"Be cool," he murmurs.

"Be cool for who? For her? Pretty sure you ruined that when you tripped over your own feet just trying to leave her house."

"Ugh, shut up, Plagg."

Plagg cackles before flying off to find cheese. Adrien sighs and opens the messenger app. Marinette's smiling face looks back at him from her icon. He dubbed her Princess for her contact name, a fact that normally gets a grin out of him whenever he sees the nickname, but tonight he can only swallow and look at the little bubble with her words.

Princess: Hey

His body tenses as he stares at the three dots that indicate she's typing.

Princess: Sorry about this morning. My parents can be pretty full on

Me: No it's my fault for falling asleep on your bed. That was a stupid mistake. Did you get in too much trouble after I left?

Princess: Nope. Guess they thought embarrassing us was enough

Me: Can't deny they succeeded there

The conversation goes dead. Maybe she's feeling just as tongue-tied (finger-tied?) as him.

He waits. And waits. When he does start to type, her three little dots flash. His breath catches and he erases his half-started word, but she must have done the same. They repeat this three times, then a fourth with a much longer pause. Adrien doesn't know whether to laugh or groan. The whole thing is so awkward and ridiculous.

Princess: Maybe let's not do any more accidental sleepovers

Me: Agreed

The little dots come up again to say she is typing. He waits but then the dots vanish. There's another long pause.

Princess: I have to go. Night Chat

Me: Night

Adrien sighs and flops against his bed, smooshing his face into the pillow.

oOo

Monday arrives. He's so sure he's got over his embarrassment and that he'll be able to speak to her normally.

He is wrong.

All it takes is one look at Marinette for him to remember everything her parents described about urges, safety precautions, and all the other things he would rather forget right now. His face burns. It burns so hot that he's sure he has to look like the reddest of tomatoes.

"You alright, bro?" Nino asks.

"Fine. I'm totally fine. Why wouldn't I be fine?"

Nino raises his eyebrows. "Okay …"

Adrien represses a wince and sits down gracelessly at his desk.

"Morning, Adrien," Alya says. "You up for another group project gathering tonight?"

"Oh, uh …" He makes the mistake of catching Marinette's gaze. Everything fizzes out of his mind and becomes a messy scramble to formulate words. "I, uh … I wish we could, but I can't tonight. Sorry."

They make the suitable sounds of disappointment. He determinedly faces the front of class. He really needs to get a grip.

oOo

"Alright," Miss Bustier says, "please go stand in the middle with your partner when I call your names. Nino and Juleka, Kim and Ivan, Adrien and Marinette, Lila and …"

Adrien blinks and twists around to face Marinette. She's got her hands crammed near her mouth as if to hide her expression or smother a sound. When she catches his gaze, her cheeks go pink and she awkwardly lowers her hands.

"Guess we're partners," she says, and gives him one of her strained, extra bright smiles.

He immediately feels bad. She's such an amazing person, and here he's been avoiding talking to her because he can't stop his thoughts from straying and making things weird between them. She probably thinks he's a huge jerk and doesn't even want to be his partner. Time for some damage repair.

He smiles and offers his hand. "Shall we?"

She blushes and stutters something incomprehensible. Her touch is tentative as she takes his hand, like she's afraid it's going to bite her. That won't do. He squeezes her hand, gentle and reassuring, and guides her away from their desks. Fresh pink blooms across her cheeks.

That's when she trips.

He quickly tugs her to him, looping his free arm around her waist. Now she's pressed all up against him, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. His breath catches in his throat.

"I can't believe Marinette," Lila says with awful clarity. "She's dating Chat Noir, but now she's trying to flirt with Adrien. Just look at her."

Marinette's startled expression shifts to flushed anger, and she breaks free of his hold. "I'm not trying to flirt! I just tripped!"

"Right into his arms?" Lila laughs and flicks her hair over her shoulder. "Yeah, sure."

"It's true," Adrien says. "Anyway, shouldn't you go to your partner? Max is waiting."

A smile of razors and silk curves Lila's lips. "Always so quick to defend her. Makes me wonder if there really is something going on between you two. Wouldn't that be a story?"

Chloe snaps out a laugh. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng cheating on Chat Noir with my Adrikins? As if. Adrien has much better taste."

"Alright, that's enough," Miss Bustier orders.

Mercifully, the conversation is dropped as everyone is called to stand opposite their partner. For this activity, Miss Bustier wants them to do trust falls. Adrien and Marinette share an awkward smile.

"Ladies first," he suggests.

"Oh. S-sure."

She turns her back to him without any hesitation. It's easy to catch her since she's so small and light. The scent of apple and flowers teases his senses, though it's much subtler now that he's not in his suit. Is it her shampoo? A perfume? He's tempted to sniff her hair to check, but that would be weird, right? Ladybug hadn't seemed to appreciate it when he'd sniffed her …

Marinette tilts her head back to look up at him, all shyness and soft pink. "Um, Adrien?"

"Mm?"

"You're still, um, holding me."

"Oh." He steadies her back on her feet and rubs the base of his neck. "Right. Sorry."

A touch of concern enters her eyes. "Is everything okay? You seem a bit … distracted."

He can't help but smile, touched that she cares enough to ask. But then that's Marinette. She's always looking out for everyone.

"I'm fine," he says, and this time he means it.

Sure, the whole sex talk and bed sharing thing had thrown him. He'd also be lying if he said hearing her parents say all that stuff hadn't put some confusing, guilt-inducing thoughts in his mind. (Because Marinette is very pretty, and he hadn't known how to handle those unbidden thoughts when he also knows with a hundred percent certainty that he's in love with Ladybug.) But Marinette is still his friend. He cherishes that friendship, cherishes her.

He's definitely not going to let a silly bit of embarrassment come between them.

"So," he says with a hint of his Chat Noir cheekiness, leaning in closer to her level. "You ready to catch me now?"

Her blush darkens, but her eyes twinkle. "I don't know. Do you trust me to?"

"Yes."

His response is instantaneous and his tone more serious than he intended, but it's the truth. He trusts her just as much as he trusts Ladybug. He always has.

She smiles and gestures for him to go ahead. Adrien turns his back to her and let's himself fall. Her hands are small but firm against his back, and though she staggers a little under his weight, she keeps him steady. Just as he knew she would.

"See," he says, stepping away from her. "I knew my faith in you was justified."

A soft smile tugs at her lips. "Of course I wasn't going to let you fall. You're my friend."

His heart warms. Friend. He will never get tired of that word.

oOo

Later, Adrien settles on his bed with his phone. He clicks on the conversation thread he (or at least Chat Noir) shares with Marinette and starts typing.

Me: Hey I know I've been kind of silent, but I just wanted to thank you. You got the raw end of the deal with this fake relationship, but I really do appreciate all you've done and put up with for me. As far as fake girlfriends go, you're the pawsomest

It's only a few seconds before her reply pops up.

Princess: Pawsomest? Really?

He laughs and settles more comfortably on his bed.

Me: What? It's a compliment

She sends him a rolling eyes emoticon. He sends her a wink back. They back and forth like this for a while before he gets serious again.

Me: I mean it though. Thanks

Princess: No need to thank me. You know I'm always happy to help

He does know it, which is why he smiles softly at her icon. She really is the best fake girlfriend a guy could have.

Chapter Text

Marinette spots Alya near the lockers and practically falls into her arms. "This is a nightmare!" she exclaims.

"I take it you saw the article," Alya says, patting her on the back.

"They think I'm cheating on Chat Noir with Adrien! With Adrien, Alya!" Marinette shakes her friend by the shoulders. "Do you know what that means? His dad is bound to hear about this, and then Adrien will probably get pulled out of school because I dragged him into a scandal, and then I'll never see him again, and then—"

"Girl, calm down. I doubt Gabriel Agreste would take his son out of school just because of some silly tabloid article. Chat Noir and Adrien's fans on the other hand …"

The colour drains from Marinette's face. "Oh no. They're going to hate me even more. I'll probably get hate mail again."

"Probably."

"What am I supposed to do?"

Adrien comes up behind them. "I might have an idea."

Marinette jumps a good foot into the air and almost whacks him in the chest as she spins to face him. "A-Adrien!"

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

"Or eavesdrop?" Alya asks, raising her eyebrow.

He gives a sheepish shrug. "That one was intentional, but since this concerns me as well, I figured you wouldn't mind if I cut in."

Alya looks him up and down. "Alright, Buttercup. You say you've got an idea?"

"Uh … Buttercup?"

Marinette wants to crawl into a hole and die. "Alya," she whisper-hisses, and gives her friend a pleading but pointed look. The last thing she needs is for Adrien to find out about Operation: Secret Garden.

"It's a nickname," Alya says, ignoring Marinette. "You've heard of those, right?"

An odd gleam enters his eyes, but his smile is politely confused. "Of course. I'm just unsure why you would call me that."

"Oh, I have my reasons."

Marinette covers her face with her hands. Maybe the floor will open up and swallow her. That would also be great.

"Anyway," Alya says, finally taking pity. "What's this idea of yours?"

"Well, one side of the story is out there, so why don't we put out our own? Set the record straight. You are the owner of one of Paris's most popular blogs, after all."

Alya rubs her chin. "Hmm. Getting the truth out is a start, but I don't think that's going to cut it for this. People are already going crazy with speculations, and they'll be expecting some kind of damage control from the Lady Blog, whether it's truth or not …"

Marinette's shoulders slump. "Then it's useless. I'm so sorry, Adrien. This is all my—"

"Hey." He squeezes her shoulder. "This isn't your fault. If anything, it's mine. I was the one who dragged you into this mess with my big mouth."

"Actually, I'm pretty sure it's Lila's fault," Alya says bluntly. "Remember in class the other day?"

Marinette's eyes widen. "You're right! It would be just like her to start a rumour like this!" A growl escapes her and her hands ball into fists. "Just wait till I get my hands on that liar and"—she freezes, suddenly remembering Adrien Agreste is standing right next to her—"and tell her how much I disapprove of her actions. Very calmly, of course."

He laughs, eyes twinkling. "It's okay, Marinette. I understand you're frustrated."

She melts into a smile. He's so wonderful.

Alya is still rubbing her chin and making humming noises. "I think what we need is proof."

"Proof?" Adrien and Marinette say in unison.

"Uh huh. We can claim in an interview that Adrien is just your friend, but to really convince people we need proof that Marinette and Chat Noir are still very happily in love and doing their couple thing."

Adrien's expression brightens. "Well, that's easy. Chat Noir and Marinette will just have to start going on more public dates."

"Yes, that's it!" Alya cries, grabbing his arms.

"What?" Marinette says, feeling like she just lost hold of a whole lot of threads. "You want me to what now?"

Alya rounds on her with a grin. "Message your boyfriend, girl. It's time for you to step up your dating game."

Chapter Text

"Everyone is staring," Marinette grumbles.

Adrien, clad in the leather of his superhero persona, loops his arm around her waist and tugs her against his side. "Having them stare is the whole point of this, isn't it?" he murmurs in her ear.

"It's still awkward."

He makes a humming sound of agreement. It's not like he's unaware of the blatant stares being directed their way. Some bold souls have even approached to ask tactless questions about his relationship with Marinette and the lurid cheating article. Adrien is grateful for all his father's strict discipline and public image training. It's the only thing that's stopped him from whacking said people over the head with his staff. Poor Marinette hasn't been faring much better.

This won't do. If they're going to go on these dates, they might as well have fun.

"Hey," he says, pausing so that she's also forced to stop.

She looks up at him questioningly.

"Wanna ditch the romantic walk?"

Her lips twitch. "Are you suggesting we ditch our own date?"

"More like switch it up a little. Alya's idea was nice and all, but I'm sure we can do better."

"Oh? And how do you suggest we do that?"

"Well, there's this café I've been wanting to go to. Have you heard of Extra Life Café?"

Her eyes light up. "The gaming one?"

"That's it. We could get some food and—"

"Yes!"

He laughs and pulls her closer, bringing out his baton. "Alright. Next stop is Extra Life Café."

oOo

She sits opposite him at the little table and sips her strawberry milkshake. Adrien twirls his straw between his fingers, watching her with a half-smile. It's not like he can help it. Her hair is different again tonight—a sleek bun adorned with a pink ribbon. She's removed her coat and scarf to reveal a high-collared tunic dress with tights. It's very cosy, very cute, and very Marinette.

"What?" she says, tilting her head.

"Your hair looks nice like that."

Colour dusts her cheeks. "Oh. Um, thanks."

"Though I like the pigtails as well," he adds with a wink.

She leans forward and points her straw at him like a sword. "You, Chat Noir, are a terrible flirt."

"Is it so wrong for a guy to compliment his girlfriend?"

She opens and closes her mouth, no doubt realising that she can't point out she's only his fake girlfriend. Too many people watching, too many ears listening in. Her lips purse for a split-second before she plasters on a brilliant smile and even flutters her eyelashes at him. "Of course not. Thanks, pookiebear."

He bites the inside of his cheek so he won't laugh. That would give everything away. Marinette, sensing her victory, smiles smugly and sucks the cream and strawberry milkshake off the straw. Some of the milkshakey cream gets stuck to the corner of her lips and drips down her chin.

"Oh," he says. "You've got, ah, on your face …"

"Huh?"

"Cream."

"What? Where?"

He leans forward, close enough to count the tiny freckles on her nose. "Here, let me."

Gently, he wipes the cream and milkshake off before licking his finger clean. Her eyes widen to the size of saucers. Pink blooms on her face, matching her ribbon, and a few camera flashes go off in the background. Adrien goes very still. Only now has he realised what he has just done, what it must have looked like.

More flashes. More pictures being taken.

His face heats and heats and heats.

"Um, it's all gone now," he mumbles, and jerkily sits back against his chair.

"Th-thanks."

They both avoid looking at each other. He's painfully conscious of the strawberry taste lingering on his tongue. Pink and sweet. His shoulders tense and he grabs his straw and takes a long drink of his chocolate milkshake, letting any hint of strawberry blend and fade away. Marinette mirrors him. Their date has suddenly become a competition to see who can finish their drink first, even as they sneak glances at each other from under their lashes.

A unified, slurpy crescendo signals a draw as they both get to the dregs of their milkshakes.

"Alright!" Marinette declares, standing up with her hands pressed against the table. "Enough wasting time. You ready to get your butt kicked at video games or not?"

His smile trips into life. He could have hugged her then. Her cheeks are still a bit pink, but she's determined to press on from the Milkshake Incident, and he's more than happy to help her. So he stands up and looks down at her from his greater height. "You're on, princess."

oOo

They play games for as long as they can. There's laughter and smiles and silly taunts. She does better on the multiplayer and fighting ones, but he finally gets to one-up her score on some of the old one-player arcade games. Not for nothing has he spent most of his life shut in his house with only Chloe for the odd bit of company. Still, the true battle is the dance off.

A crowd gathers around them, cheering on or taking pictures, but it doesn't feel as intrusive and stifling now. Adrien is having fun, and he can tell that Marinette is as well.

"Alright, I admit it," she says, leaning against him and trying to catch her breath once the final song is over. "You're a good dancer."

"Told you."

She pokes him in the chest. "But don't think you'll hold the title of rhythm champion for long. Next time I'll be the winner."

"I'm sorry, princess, but this is one title I don't plan on handing over to you."

"Like you'll have a choice." She smiles and flicks his bell. "Pookiebear."

He leans down so he's closer to her level. "Oh, I dunno. You'll have to learn to keep up with me first."

"That won't be a problem."

"You sure? I mean I am a superhero."

"Yet this ordinary girl still kicked your butt at all those other games."

They're so close now their noses are almost touching. So close he can smell apple and flowers and a hint of strawberry. His heart beats faster (just from the dancing, of course), and he has an odd urge to keep teasing, to keep leaning into her space.

A camera flash goes off.

Adrien blinks and pulls back, even as she does the same. Right. They still have an audience. A growing one, in fact. The speculative chatter is a constant hum, as are the expectant and curious looks cast their way. When a few dare to approach to ask more unwanted questions, Marinette tugs on his arm.

"Do you want to get out of here?" she mutters.

"Definitely."

He scoops her up bridal-style and grins at the crowd of onlookers. "Sorry, folks. Show's over. I've gotta get my princess home."

A groan escapes Marinette and she thunks her head against his chest as he carries her out of the building. Phone cameras follow them every step of the way.

"You're so dramatic," she complains. "Did you really have to do that?"

"A good show always needs a good ending. At least now they'll have something to talk about."

She thunks her head against his chest again. "Just take me home, you silly cat."

He laughs and holds her more securely. "As the princess wishes."

Chapter Text

Marinette leans against the balcony railing and huffs at her phone. "Alya says it wasn't enough."

"Well, it was only one date," Chat points out. "What did you expect?"

"I don't know. I thought they'd at least drop the cheating thing, but it looks like a lot of people think our date was just some damage control publicity stunt."

"I mean it technically was …"

She ignores this input. "Alya suggests I post pictures of us doing couple things on my Instagram. She thinks it'll make the relationship seem more real."

"Couple things, huh?"

"I'm not exactly sure what she's expecting there, but—"

He snatches her phone, pulls her closer, and swoops down and kisses her cheek. Marinette blinks. Chat's teeth flash in a grin and he waves the phone at her. There's now a selfie of him kissing her cheek on the screen.

"I'd say Alya probably means something like this," he says, handing the phone back to her.

Marinette's cheeks warm. "You … you just …"

He holds his hands up in an appeasing gesture. "Hey, cheek kisses were in the rules, remember?"

"That doesn't mean you can kiss me without warning!"

"Sorry." He leans closer so he's more at her level, his green, green eyes gleaming in a cheeky smile. "I'll ask for permission next time."

Her heart stutters and thumps. Oh, that flirty cat is so going to get it.

She tugs him down by his bell, holding him a hairsbreadth from her so their breath intermingles. His eyes widen and widen. Her finger trails down his leather-clad chest.

"U-um, Marinette, w-what—"

"What's the matter, kitty cat?" she taunts. "Can dish it but can't take it?"

Pink spills out from under his mask. "I c-can take it."

"Oh?"

"I can."

Her lips curve wickedly and she curls her fingers into his sides. A half yelp, half laugh escapes him.

"I knew it!" Marinette crows.

She tickles him ruthlessly, bringing him to his knees. He laughs and gasps and pleads for her to stop. Marinette pounces on him when he tries to flee. Her thighs settle comfortably on either side of him as she straddles his hips, fingers still tickling and tormenting all his weak spots. Tears leak from his eyes.

"Mercy," he begs. "Please … Ma-Marinette. Can't … can't … breathe."

She pulls her fingers away. He goes limp like a deboned fish underneath her and takes big gulps of air.

"You are evil," he croaks.

She smiles. "Only gave you what you de—"

He flips them over so she's the one trapped under him. Luminous green eyes brim with wicked intentions. Her heart stutters, and then he's the one tickling her, and all she can do is laugh and laugh and laugh.

"S-stop," she pleads.

"Nuh-uh."

"Chat!"

"Payback is payback, princess."

She tries to wriggle free, but he's got her firmly pinned. It's only when she can't take it anymore, when her stomach hurts and tears blur her eyes, that he desists the tickle attack. His hands shift to hold her arms as he looms over her, and that damned mischief smile flickers back to life.

"Now what was that you said about being able to dish it but not take it?" he asks.

She rolls her eyes with a breathy laugh. "Fine. You got me. Happy?"

Something shifts in his expression and his arms come around her so he's hugging her instead.

"Um, Chat?"

"Thanks," he murmurs.

"For what?"

"My mum and I used to have tickle wars like this. I thought it would hurt more to do it with someone else, that it would just make me miss Mum too much, but …" He nuzzles his face into the nook between her neck and shoulder. "It was really fun."

Her eyes widen. Poor Chat. The more she learns about his family, the sadder his life seems to be.

She holds him closer, fingers lightly running through his hair and along his back. The low purr that hums through him brings the smallest of smiles to her lips. Still, she's not prepared for when he sits up and stares down at her intently, face inches from hers.

"What?" she says, cheeks hot and her pulse quickening.

He slow blinks.

"You're planning something, aren't you?" she asks suspiciously.

His lips twitch, but all he does is lean down and boop his nose against hers. A giggle is startled out of her.

"Did you just boop me, you silly cat?"

"You're my fake girlfriend. I can give you all the nose boops I want."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Uh huh."

He gets off her and holds his hand out to help her up. Marinette smiles before taking his hand. He doesn't release it immediately once she's on her feet, but instead raises it to his lips to press a soft kiss to the back of her hand.

"I have to go now," he says.

"Flirt."

He winks and flips off the rooftop with extra flair, clearly trying to show off. She laughs and watches his silhouette get smaller and smaller. He really is a silly cat.

Chapter Text

"Took your time," Ladybug says.

Adrien—or Chat Noir, as he appears to her—knocks down the giant wad of post-it notes that just came for his face. He grins, spinning his baton and leaning on it with easy grace. "Sorry. Only just got the memo."

Her lips twitch.

His grin widens, but any follow up puns are ruined as a masked woman riding a flying, motorbike-sized stapler appears and he and Ladybug are forced to avoid an onslaught of very sharp, very fast staples. Ladybug's yoyo flashes into a spinning shield. He grabs her by the waist and launches them both to a safer rooftop.

"Phew," he says, releasing her and seamlessly shifting with her into a run. "That staplermobile is dangerous."

"What's the matter, kitty? Afraid of a few staples."

"I am when they're bigger than my head. Also when they come for my head."

Ladybug tugs him down by his arm so they're both crouching behind a part of the rooftop. "Well, I'm pretty sure the akuma is inside that stapler Inventoria is riding," she says. "We'll have to be careful approaching her. Not only can she attack with rapid-fire staples, but she can turn you into office supplies if she hits you with the glowing, purple staples."

"That would explain the giant pens and folders I passed on my way here."

He sneaks a glance over the side of the building to see Inventoria—sleek in her skin-tight, grey and black suit, but still very visible thanks to her highlighter-pink hair—firing off purple staples at a couple of unfortunate Parisians who had managed to catch her attention. A bottle of ink and some paperclips are soon bouncing around the street.

"This is your last chance, Ladybug and Chat Noir!" Inventoria yells. "Give me your miraculouses or watch as all of Paris becomes part of my inventory!"

Adrien raises his eyebrows. "You know, that staplermobile is breaking some serious occupational safety rules. Not to mention vehicle rules. I bet she doesn't even have a licence for it."

A smile peeps out on Ladybug's lips. "Well then, shall we inform her that her law breaking ways won't be tolerated?"

He grins and gestures for her to go ahead. "After you, m'lady."

Ladybug spins her yoyo into the air. "Lucky charm!"

A clipboard complete with a bulldog clip drops into her hands, but he doesn't bother to question how it can be used to defeat Inventoria. Ladybug will figure it out. She always does. All he has to do is protect her, provide distractions when needed, and be ready to use cataclysm.

Time to inventorise this stationery-obsessed akuma.

oOo

"Glad that's over," Ladybug says.

He bumps fists with her, as is their custom. "A job well done, m'lady. Let's just hope her manager is nicer to her from now on."

"Right. Can't say I really want to fight stationery again."

"That would be difficult. Can't fight when you can't move."

She rolls her eyes and swats him lightly on the chest, but the twinkle in her gaze betrays her. His lips curve. And then freeze. He stares and stares.

"What?" she says, brow furrowing.

"N-nothing."

He shakes his head, trying to regather his thoughts. For a moment all he had seen was Marinette's twinkling eyes, Marinette's threatening-to-sneak-free smile. His insides twist, but he can't place if the sensation is unpleasant or not. It's shifting and confusing, a gossamer thing.

Has his lady's eyes always smiled like that?

Why can't he remember?

Her earrings beep, followed quickly by his ring.

"I guess I should get going," she says.

"Yeah." He swallows thickly. "Me too."

"See you next time, kitty."

He nods and watches her swing away.

oOo

His father is waiting for him at home. Or rather looming at the top of the staircase with a storm-cloud frown. Not a good sign. Did he hear about how distracted Adrien had been during the last photoshoot?

Gabriel walks down the stairs and shoves a clipping from a tabloid magazine into his hands. Adrien's chest tightens and his stomach clenches into knots as he sees it's an article about Marinette supposedly cheating on Chat Noir with him.

"Explain," his father orders.

Adrien wants to sink into the floor. His father has never cared to interrogate him about articles like this before. (He's a famous teen model; of course speculation and sensationalist pieces sometimes get publicised, regardless of how hard Nathalie and his publicity manager work to maintain his perfect image.)

"It's nothing," Adrien says in a small voice. "Just a false rumour."

"You must have been doing something to cause this false rumour."

"I wasn't, Father. Honest. Marinette is just a friend."

His father's stare is cool and sharp. "This isn't the first time you've been involved in a scandal with this Marinette girl."

Adrien's chest tightens even more. All the breath is being squeezed out of him and can't get back in. "Please don't forbid me from seeing her."

"You care for her that much?"

"She's one of my best friends. Of course I care about her."

There is no emotion in his father's eyes. Only ice and steel. Adrien's shoulders creep higher to his ears and he rubs his left arm, tense and wanting to recoil into himself like a snail seeking the safety of its shell. He wishes he could bold, wishes he could say he doesn't care what his father says, because he's going to keep seeing her anyway. But he's scared. Scared it will be one display of unapproved behaviour too many. Scared he'll get pulled out of school and never get to see Marinette or anyone else as himself again.

Being Chat Noir gives him some freedom, but it's not the same as being able to spend time with friends as Adrien Agreste.

"Father, please," he practically whispers. "It was all a misunderstanding. We've done nothing wrong."

Gabriel looks down at him, still no trace of sympathy or warmth. "Very well," he says coolly. "Invite this Marinette of yours to dinner. I shall see for myself whether she is fit to be your friend."

All the breath whooshes back into Adrien's lungs. "Thank you," he says, throwing his arms around his father. "I know you'll like her."

Chapter Text

"Is Chat Noir a good kisser?"

Marinette blinks as she's suddenly trapped by a swarm of students not from her class. "Uh …"

"What's he like under the mask? Is he as hot as he seems?"

"Did you really cheat on him with Adrien Agreste?"

"What? No!" Marinette exclaims. "For the last time, I would never do that to Chat!"

"But you do like Adrien, right?"

Her cheeks burn. She opens and closes her mouth, panic sticking her tongue. She loves him, loves him, loves him. It's a looping shout in her mind, a truth tattooed to her heart. But she cannot say that. She absolutely cannot say that. And that is a bad thing. Whatever words spill out of her are going to be a mess, she just knows it.

"Look, an akuma!" someone shouts.

Everyone turns away from Marinette. Some scream and run in panic. She's about to whip into action when a hand grabs hers and she finds herself meeting bright green eyes.

"Adri—"

"Shh." Adrien smushes his finger to her lips. "This way."

She's too dazed to protest. He just touched her lips. Her lips.

He drags her down the corridor and pulls her with him into a supply closet, closing the door behind them. Everything goes black. Her heart thumps and thumps and thumps. She's very conscious of the fact he's still holding her hand, of how close they're standing together. (A necessity thanks to the cramped space.) Just one tiny step forward and she'd be touching him.

"Um," she says, and swallows hard. "W-what's going on?"

"You looked like you needed some help."

"Huh?"

He releases her hand, and then there's a bit of fumbling before his phone's torchlight shines between them. Now she can see the mischief dancing in his eyes. "I did say I'd come save you if the attention got too much."

Her jaw drops. "Wait, it was you! You were the one who said there was an akuma!"

"Guilty. Though, uh, maybe you should lower your voice. Don't want them to find us here."

She clamps both hands over her mouth. "Oops. Sorry."

Inwardly, she wants to squeal for joy. She's in a closet with Adrien.

…

Okay, that actually sounds kind of odd, but still. Any romantic worth their grain of salt knows that being shut in a closet with the person you like is something to squee about. Though now that she thinks about it, she can't remember if she put deodorant on this morning. Oh no. What if she stinks? What if he can smell her?

Would it be too obvious if she tried to sniff her armpit?

Adrien tilts his head. "Marinette?"

She jumps and almost knocks over a mop. "Y-yes?"

"Are you okay?"

Her entire body freezes. Oh no. Now he thinks she's acting weird. Abort! Abort!

He bites his lip. "I just … you seem kind of on edge, and I just realised maybe this was too much, and, um, I'm sorry if I overstepped or—"

"No. No, no, no. You didn't overstep anything. I'm really grateful you saved me back there. Honest. I love you." A squeak of panic. "I mean being in this closet with you. Just the closet. Not you. I definitely don't love you."

He blinks. "Um, okay …"

"Not that I hate you either," she's quick to add. "I mean I do like you, but I don't love you, because that would be weird, right?" Nervous giggles. "Yeah."

His eyes crinkle into a smile. "So, you're okay with this then? Hiding here with me, I mean."

"Yep. Definitely. Super okay." She gives him double thumbs up.

"Phew. That's a relief. I really wanted to help, especially since you did so much for me when my fans chased me all over the city."

"Oh, that? That was nothing."

"Not to me." He places his hand on her shoulder. "You're an amazing girl, Marinette. I'm glad I can return the favour in this small way."

A melty little sigh almost escapes her. He's so sweet and warm and—

"Wait," she says, snapping from her daze. "The others! They all think there is an akuma. They're probably still in a panic."

"Uh, yeah …" He lets go of her shoulder and rubs the base of his neck. "I didn't really think that one through. Guess I'm not as good at this as you are."

She bites her nails. The responsible thing would be to go out and check that everyone is okay, but if she does that then she'll lose this moment with Adrien. Also, people might get the wrong idea if they find out he wanted to get her away from all those questions.

What to do, what to do, what to do …

"Um," he says, not quite meeting her gaze. "Since we're alone, there's actually something I wanted to ask you."

Her heart stutters. "Th-there is?"

"My father saw the article that said you cheated on Chat Noir with me."

"Oh no."

Everything in her plummets. This is it. This is when he tells her that he's being taken out of school.

"So … did you want to come over to my house for dinner?"

She blinks once. Twice. Her mouth is hanging open and all she can do is stare. "What?"

"Father wants to meet you again. He's … he'd like to get to know you better and, um …"

"Decide if I'm worthy enough to stay his son's friend," she pieces together.

He bites his lip. "Pretty much. Sorry. If it's any consolation, I don't think you'll have much trouble winning him over, and I know I'd love to have you there. Dinners are kind of quiet at my house."

That doesn't seem hard to imagine. Every time she's gone over to his house with Nino and Alya, Gabriel Agreste has been nowhere to be seen. It's Stern Secretary Lady who seems too handle everything.

"I'll come to dinner," Marinette says.

"Wait, you will?"

She nods.

His face splits into a smile and he pulls her into a hug.

Of course that's when the door to the supply closet opens.

Adrien's grip tightens and there's an awful moment where they just stare at the faces peering back at them. A few of the students hold up their phones to take pictures.

All the colour drains from Marinette's cheeks. She really has the worst luck.

oOo

"I can't believe you two," Alya says, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Adrien and Marinette wince.

"Judging from the way this little love triangle of yours is trending, those pictures are going to go viral. You'll be all over social media by the time school is out."

"Sorry," Adrien mumbles.

Alya waggles her finger at him. "Uh-uh. Sorry isn't going to cut it, Buttercup. You gotta promise me that you won't get any more bright ideas to help Marinette. Trust me when I say you're only making things worse."

Marinette frowns. "He didn't know we'd get caught."

"Yeah, but you did. In a closet. Canoodling."

Marinette's cheeks warm. "We were not canoodling. It was just a hug between friends."

"You think Paris is going to believe that?"

Her shoulders slump. Adrien looks just as dejected.

"What can we do?" he asks.

"You? Not much," Alya responds frankly. "It's Marinette and Chat Noir who will have to do all the work. Either that or call it quits on this whole thing and live with the fact most of Paris is going to think you both went behind Chat Noir's back so you could have a romance on the side."

Marinette represses a groan. "That is what they'd think, isn't it?"

"Pretty much."

She sighs. "Alright. I'll message Chat."

Chapter Text

"Chat Noir!" a woman calls from the street below. "Chat Noir, can you tell us how you feel now that it's confirmed your girlfriend has been seeing Adrien Agreste behind your back?"

Adrien sighs and jumps drown from the roof, landing gracefully in front of her. A cameraman is next to her, filming the whole thing.

"She hasn't done anything behind my back," Adrien says.

"But your girlfriend was found being pretty intimate with Adrien Agreste in a school closet. Surely you can't—"

"Adrien is Marinette's friend. He was trying to help her hide because, believe it or not, not everyone likes to be hounded twenty-four seven about false cheating accusations and their relationship with a superhero." He bares his teeth in a hard smile. "You can understand that, right?"

The cameraman flinches and takes a small step back. "Uh, I think he's mad, Patrice."

"No one asked you, Darrell."

"No, Darrell is on the right track," Adrien says with feigned friendliness. "You want to know how I really feel?" He looks directly into the camera. "I want you to leave Marinette alone. She doesn't deserve this kind of harassment, and frankly I'm glad that Adrien has been looking out for her when I can't. I trust them both. I have never doubted her, and if you knew her like I do, you wouldn't either."

He vaults himself back onto the roof with his baton, even as Patrice shouts for him to wait.

"Sorry," he says, and gives a careless salute. "Paris is calling."

oOo

"No one believes us, Chat," Marinette moans, pacing up and down in her room. "They're calling you an idiot for thinking you can trust me, they all hate me, and—"

"Hey," he says, grabbing her arm to still her pacing. "This is going to blow over. Adrien has made his public statement, we've made ours, and all we have to do is just keep going out in public and acting like everything is fine."

"How can you be so calm? This is so much worse than before, and now Adrien has been dragged into it again, and I just know his father is going to hate me because I keep getting his son into scandals, and then I'll be forbidden to see him again or maybe Adrien really will get pulled out of school, and—"

"Woah, woah." His hands move up to clasp her shoulders, eyes seeking hers. "Marinette, that isn't going to happen."

"How do you know?"

"Because I'm not going to let it, okay?"

She blinks. "But what can you do?"

"I, uh …" Right. He is Chat Noir. He forces a smile and makes a big show of flexing. "I can do more than you think."

She sighs, clearly unimpressed. "Right."

"Wait," he says, grabbing her shoulders before she can turn away. "Look, I know you're worried and this whole situation is … well, it sucks. But Adrien is going to be fine. And his father is definitely going to love you."

"Yeah, sure. Gabriel Agreste will be so impressed with me that he'll give me that internship I've always dreamed about. Oh, and of course he'll think it's great I ruined his son's perfect public image."

"You didn't ruin anything. Adrien wanted to help you, and I know he doesn't regret it."

Her lips twist in a cute, pouty way, and she looks up at him from under her lashes. "Did he tell you that?"

"Yeah, he did. He also said he'd let all of Paris think him the most scandalous of scandalous if it meant helping you."

She giggles, cheeks dusting with pink. "Now you're being ridiculous."

"I'm not." He squeezes her shoulders and looks warmly into her eyes. "You mean a lot to him, a lot to me, and I won't let anything bad happen to either of you. Promise." His mouth curves. "Now are you ready to go on that date Alya assigned us or not?"

She smiles and hugs him tight. "Okay."

oOo

They're having a romantic picnic lunch. (Public, but not so public that it's obvious.) Little candles secured in glass jars are dotted around the blanket, and he gives her a red rose and snuggles with her under the winter sun. It's easy to cuddle since they're so comfortable with each other, even if there are people (not very stealthily) watching and taking pictures of them.

"Alya wants us to feed each other all romantically," he reminds her in a whisper.

"Ugh. Not that. It's too embarrassing."

He laughs and picks up one of the pastries she got from her parents' bakery. "Come on, princess. Say ahh."

She pouts, but her eyes twinkle. "Fine."

Her mouth opens and he carefully slips a part of the pastry inside, allowing her to take a bite. She licks the stray crumbs from her lips, drawing attention to the glossy softness. He swallows against the sudden dryness in his mouth.

"Good?" he asks.

"Of course it's good. My dad made it." She takes the pastry from him and holds it towards him. "Here, try it."

He opens his mouth, but her smile turns into a wicked grin and she smushes the pastry against his face. Just a big old smush. Pastry and custard smears all over his mouth and chin. His face scrunches as he futilely wipes at the mess. Of course Marinette is laughing her head off.

"Oh, you're asking for it now," he growls.

She lets out a little squeal and tries to wriggle away from him, but he's much faster in his suit. He pounces and rubs his face against her cheek, smearing the pastry and custard right back on her.

"S-stop," she gasps between laughs. "Chat!"

"You brought this on yourself." He shifts to the other cheek and moves down to her jaw. "Now suffer!"

She laughs and squirms, and somehow they end up with her flat on her back underneath him, his hands planted on either side of her face as he holds himself up. Something fluttery stirs in his stomach. Her eyes are brilliant bluebell-blue, and her lips slightly parted. Their breath intermingles as they stare at each other.

Adrien scrambles off her, cheeks warming as he looks the other way. "W-well," he says, and has to cough to clear his throat. "I hope you've learnt your lesson now."

"Gross, you got some in my hair."

He glances back and a snort escapes him. Her nose is scrunched and she's picking bits of pastry and custard out of her pigtails like they've personally offended her. She looks ridiculous. (And adorable.) It's easier to look at her again, easier to tease and get back in her space now that all those confusing flutters have gone.

So it's a huge pain in the butt when a group of his fans approach and start going off at Marinette and demanding how he can be with her so happily when she's cheating on him.

"She's not cheating on me," he says, trying very hard not to lose his temper. "There's nothing going on between her and Adrien."

The fans are not impressed. One even claims she's heard their whole relationship is a ruse, that he and Marinette are not even really dating.

Marinette blinks. "Um, you do realise we're on a date right now …"

"Yeah, but you just muck around with each other. No one has even seen you two kiss. Not properly."

Adrien and Marinette exchange a glance.

"We just prefer to keep that for when we're alone in private," he says, "and, uh—"

"Chat."

He glances at Marinette just in time as her hands find his cheeks. Her lips touch his.

Her lips. On his.

Kissing.

Oh.

He goes still. Her lips are so, so soft and taste like pastry. She brushes her lips against his again, sweet and light. A teasing thing. A nudge as if to ask what he's waiting for. His heartbeat stutters and he closes his eyes, kissing her back. When they pull away from each other, both are blushing and it's like there's a hundred wings fluttering inside him.

"You were saying?" Marinette says, looking back at the group of fans in an embarrassed but very determined way, as if she'd kiss him again and again if that's what it took to make them shut up and leave.

His heart stumbles on its rhythm. Wow. She's … she really is something. All he can do is stare, even as his fans huff and grumble and finally walk off.

"You broke the rule," he says once they're alone.

"Don't get too excited." Her cheeks darken to plum and she averts her face. "It's not going to happen again."

"R-right. I mean I agree."

She bites her lip. He fidgets with his hands.

"Um … do you think we can end the date now?" she asks. "We both need to clean up anyway."

"Sounds good."

They pack up awkwardly. Adrien's heart is still beating unsteadily when they part ways.

Chapter Text

"Girl!" Alya exclaims, practically bouncing onto the chaise and grabbing Marinette's hands. "Give me the deets!"

"Uh, deets?"

"Don't give me that innocent face. You kissed Chat Noir!"

A groan escapes Marinette and she stands up to slip away from Alya. "It was nothing, okay? It meant nothing."

"Ooh, you're blushing."

Marinette clamps her hands over her traitor cheeks. "That doesn't mean anything. People can blush about—about anything!"

"Mm-hmm."

"They can!"

Alya's eyes twinkle. "You enjoyed it. Admit it."

Marinette's face burns hotter. "It was a strictly professional act to make his fans leave us alone and—"

"Nuh-uh, you enjoyed it." Alya leans in, eyelashes fluttering. "You think he's hooooot. You wanna kiss him again. You—"

"Stop! Stop!" Marinette clamps her hands over Alya's mouth, her face impossibly red. "My parents will hear you."

Alya tugs her hands away. "I thought they know about Chat Noir. Honestly, at this point how could they not?"

"Oh, they know, but that doesn't mean I want to invite them up here."

No one needed a repeat of the condom incident. No one.

"Anyway, I don't want to talk about Chat," Marinette says. "I need to figure out what to wear to dinner with Adrien and his dad."

"Ugggh, you're still hung up on Buttercup? Girl, you've got a hot cat boy right in front of you who is clearly into you—"

"Correction. He loves Ladybug. He told me so himself."

"Maybe he says he does, but he is still definitely into you."

A fresh wave of warmth sweeps over Marinette's cheeks. She remembers the kiss. The softness of his lips, the way his gloved fingers had skimmed her cheek as he'd kissed her harder.

The mass of butterflies and tingles that had stirred within her.

"W-well, that doesn't matter," she says, turning away to fuss with a pile of clothes she had laid out, "because I love Adrien and only Adrien. Now help me figure out what to wear."

Alya sighs. "The white shirt and the blue pinafore dress."

"Oh, you're right! That'll be perfect."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm amazing. Should remember that next time I give you dating advice. You know, like when I say Chat Noir is—"

"Oh, look at the time! I better hurry and change!"

Marinette tugs off her top and tries to pull on the shirt, only to flounder as her head and arm gets trapped awkwardly. Crud. She blindly seeks the proper gaps. (And trips and crashes against the partition, almost knocking it over.) Her head pops free. Alya stares back at her as if she's resisting the urge to facepalm.

"Did it," Marinette announces.

"Girl," Alya says with a slight shake of her head.

"What?"

"Oh, I thought that spoke for itself."

Marinette's shoulders slump. "Ugh, you're right. I'm such a mess. I'm going to ruin this whole dinner, I just know it."

"No, you're not."

"But—"

Alya stands up and grips her shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. "You're going to be fine. Gabriel Agreste picked your design for the competition, right? See, you already have a foot in the door with him. He respects your designing skills, and I'm sure he'll respect you."

"You really think so?"

"Of course. Plus, Adrien will be there to help with conversation, and you're doing better at talking to him, right?"

"Ehhh." Marinette moves her hand in a seesaw.

Alya's smile becomes a bit more strained. "Well, that's still progress." She gives Marinette a friendly slap on the back. "Anyway, you'll be fine. Trust me."

oOo

Marinette is not fine. Her smile cracks as she stands in the foyer in the Agreste mansion and looks up into Gabriel's stern, all-too-knowing eyes. That is the look of a man who has not forgotten the last time they spoke. (But, oh, how she wishes he had. She'd given the grimoire back to him and lied about how she'd got it in order to help Adrien stay in school, but that hadn't made it any less humiliating—or this reunion any less awkward.)

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng," he says, scrutinising her from head to foot. "So, it is you."

Her stomach sinks faster than a bowling ball dropped off a cliff, but she still manages to piece together her smile and thrust out the pink-wrapped box in her hands. "I made cookies."

His eyebrow rises.

"For you," she adds.

His eyebrow rises higher.

"And Adrien. They're, um, a gift. I baked them myself."

He stares at her for a good three seconds before he waves his hand to the bodyguard, who takes the cookies from her with no expression. She makes her smile go wider. (And hopes she doesn't look constipated—that balance is always thrown when nerves kick in, and right now her nerves would be kicking her all the way back out the front door were it not for the fact she believes Adrien's happiness is on the line.)

"Nathalie," Gabriel says, turning to Stern Secretary Lady. "Go tell Adrien our guest is here."

Nathalie dips her head and walks off up the stairs, her sensible heels click-clacking with every step. It's a tense silence that settles in the foyer. Gabriel makes no effort to break it. Neither does the bodyguard. This does not help Marinette's peace of mind. She squirms and fidgets until she can't take it anymore.

"I'm really sorry about dragging your son into all these scandals!" she blurts. "I never meant anything like this to happen, I swear! Please don't take Adrien out of school!"

Gabriel gives her that scrutinising look again. "The fact this is the second time you've had to beg me not to do so, Miss Dupain-Cheng, does not work in either you or my son's favour."

She winces.

"However, Adrien and I have already spoken about the matter. He will continue to attend public school—"

Her eyes light up.

"—but whether you are a suitable friend for him remains to be seen."

She swallows against the sudden dryness in her throat. She is very, very relieved when Adrien comes down the stairs and greets her with a warm smile and hug. At least someone in this house is pleased to see her.

"I'm glad you could make it," Adrien whispers in her ear.

She smiles (much more naturally this time) and pulls back from the hug. Gabriel watches them both with an inscrutable expression. Her heart thumps faster. Oh no, is he upset that Adrien hugged her? Is that against the rules? Has she screwed up already?

"Come," Gabriel says, and walks off to a side door without a second glance.

Marinette bites her lip and follows.

oOo

The dining table is huge. Gabriel sits at one end while Adrien is at the other. Fortunately, she is allowed to sit on the side seat next to Adrien, but it still feels like Gabriel is about to lead an interrogation. Even the bodyguard lurks in the background as if waiting to drag her away should she say the wrong thing.

This is officially the most awkward dinner she has ever had.

She wriggles on her seat and shoots glances at them both. Neither Agreste says anything. (Wow, Adrien wasn't kidding when he said these dinners are quiet. Though, to be fair, Adrien has been opening and closing his mouth for a while, like he wants to say something but thinks it's best to let his dad start the dinner interrogation.)

She picks up her spoon and takes a sip of soup. A slurpy sound escapes—too loud in the very silent, very big dining hall. She winces and tries to sink more into her chair, shoulders hunching and her cheeks warming.

So, so awkward.

A warm touch rests on her knee. She jumps and her gaze darts to Adrien, who gives her a sympathetic look. Holy heck, he is touching her knee. A secret, under-the-table touch on her bare knee. Her cheeks burn. (Skin contact, her mind screams. We have made skin contact!)

"Miss Dupain-Cheng," Gabriel says.

She jumps so hard she drops her spoon. "Y-yes?"

"How well do you do in school?"

A blink.

"Marinette is one of the best in my class, Father," Adrien says, quick to come to her rescue. "She always gets the top grades in Ms Bustier's class. Right, Marinette?"

"U-um, I try?"

Gabriel makes a humming sound. "I see. So, you take your studies seriously."

A frantic nod.

"Hmmm."

She squirms under Gabriel's penetrating stare. His glasses are surely just glasses, but they feel like mind-reading, x-ray devices.

"What kind of extra-curricular activities do you do?" Gabriel continues, after he's satisfied he's made her squirm enough.

"U-um, well, I'm the class president, so I have to attend meetings for that. I also am a member of the art club, and I make costumes for my friends' band and—"

"Ah, yes, you enjoy design. I remember the hat you made. Quite ingenious."

Heat spreads from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. "Th-thank you."

Adrien smiles at her, warm and pleased. See, he seems to say with his eyes. Told you you'd win him over quickly enough.

Marinette dares to let out a breath. As they eat their soup, Gabriel continues to pepper her with questions about her designs, her parents, the bakery, her hopes for the future, and why she turned down Audrey Bourgeois's offer to intern in New York. He seems impressed enough with her answers. Adrien's proud expression certainly bolsters her.

The empty soup plates are taken away and the next course is brought in.

"Well, it seems like you live a varied and busy life," Gabriel observes. "And of course now you've become quite the celebrity since you've started dating Chat Noir."

Her grip tightens on her fork, still half-speared into her fish. "I-I guess. I mean he's the real celebrity. I'm just his girlfriend."

"You must know him well," Gabriel prods. "How long have you two been dating?"

"Almost a month."

"And do you know who he is under the mask?"

She chokes on her drink, coughing like she's trying to hack up a lung. Adrien thoughtfully leans over and pats her back.

"She doesn't know, Father," Adrien supplies. "Chat Noir thought it would be too dangerous to share that kind of information, even with her." He gives Marinette an innocent look. "Right?"

"Y-yeah."

Gabriel makes the humming sound again. His expression is much more inscrutable now. "That doesn't seem like a good relationship."

Her brow puckers. (She has finally got her coughing under control, though she misses Adrien's touch on her back.) "What do you mean?" she asks.

"Well, Chat Noir obviously knows all about you, but what do you know about him? You don't know his real name. I'm guessing you haven't even seen his face without the mask."

"I-I'm okay with that," she says. "Sure, I don't know everything about him, but I do know enough to like being with him. Besides, I understand that he's just trying to protect me, especially with Hawkmoth targeting him and Ladybug."

"Yes," Gabriel says with an odd gleam in his eyes. "It would not be good if you caught Hawkmoth's attention."

She squirms in her seat and shovels fish into her mouth. Maybe if she looks busy with her food, he'll stop asking her questions. Fortunately, Adrien steps in to keep the focus off her for a while and the topic of Chat Noir is allowed to drop. She's still relieved when they finish the final course and Gabriel stands up.

"Well, Miss Dupain-Cheng, thank you for joining us for dinner. I see now you are a good friend to my son, despite your unfortunate habit of dragging him into trouble."

Her eyes widen. "Th-then I'm still allowed to …"

"Yes," Gabriel says. "I see no reason to forbid your friendship."

She and Adrien share a bright smile.

"Thank you, Father," Adrien says.

Gabriel merely gives a nod and says he'll have the bodyguard drive her home. Adrien insists on riding in the car with her. When they reach her house, he gets out as well so he can give her a proper hug. Her entire body thrums and flutters with each second that passes. This is the longest hug they've ever shared.

"Goodnight, Marinette," he murmurs in her ear.

Her knees almost buckle. "N-noodgight," she squeaks. "I-I mean goodnight!"

That soft little laugh of his slips free. She wants to melt. In fact, she's pretty sure she's already melting. His laugh is beautiful.

Adrien smiles and waves as he gets back in the car. She places her hand to her chest, conscious of the rapid drum beat. Oh, this boy is terrible for her heart.

Chapter Text

Adrien bites back a grin as he approaches the bed, leather tail swishing with playful anticipation. Marinette is sprawled half on top of the blankets, one leg dangling over the side and her arm bent at a funny angle above her head. Half of her face is mushed into her pillow. Soft snores issue from her mouth.

"Wakey, wakey, princess," he says.

She doesn't stir.

His grin widens and he leans over to poke her awake. She rolls over, almost whacking him in the face, but that's not what makes him freeze. Now she's on her back. Her eyes are shut and her hair tangled around her. (Some strands are even stuck to the drool smears on her cheek.) It's hardly a fairy tale moment, but his gaze is still drawn to her lips.

He knows very well how princesses are usually woken in stories.

Adrien's heart thumps and thumps. He quickly tears his gaze away, but that just draws his attention to how part of her pyjama top has ridden up. An eyeful of bare stomach is right there. He stares. His mouth goes dry.

He turns the other way.

"Nope," he says, shaking his head. "Nope, nope, nope."

Time to abort mission.

He takes a deep breath and faces her, intending to bid her goodbye. (It's only polite, even if she is asleep). Her eyes snap open. She shrieks, startling him into a yelp, and throws her phone at him. It hits him in the nose.

Hard.

"Ouch!" He touches his throbbing nose.

"Chat!" she cries. "You little—ugh, don't do that! You gave me a heart attack!"

"You gave me a heart attack!" Something wet brushes his upper lip. He touches it and sees a darkish spot on his glove. "And I think you made my nose bleed. Is it bleeding?"

Her eyes widen. "Oh my gosh. Hold on." She jumps off the bed and rummages in the bedside cabinet. "Tissues, tissues, tissues. Ugh, where are you?"

"It's okay. It's really not that bad."

"You're bleeding!"

He pinches the bridge of his nose and tilts his head back. "I'll be fine. But you need to get ready."

"Huh?" She looks at him, frazzled and hair wild.

"School, Marinette."

She clamps her hands to her cheeks. "Oh no! I slept through my alarm again!"

"Your parents figured as much. That's why they sent me up here." His mouth twitches. "I guess you couldn't hear them calling out to you either with all that snoring."

Pink spreads in waves over her cheeks. "You heard me snoring?"

"It was actually kind of cute."

She groans and covers her face with her hands. "I hate my life." Her fingers scissor to let her peep at him. "Wait, why are you even here?"

"To walk you to school."

"I live just down the road. You really don't need to do that."

"Ah, but as your fake boyfriend, it would be my pleasure to accompany you on this lovely morning." He sweeps into a gallant bow, but the effect is ruined since his nose is still bleeding and he has to pinch his nose again.

She presses her palm to her forehead. "Fine." Her hands find his arms, turning him around and giving a small shove to the small of his back so he is pushed towards the ladder. "But get out so I can get ready. I'm not getting changed in front of you."

Heat crawls up his face. "I wouldn't expect you to. I'll have you know this cat is a perfect gen—"

"Yeah, yeah. You're a real gentleman. Just hurry up and get out, you silly cat."

oOo

"What are you smiling about?" Adrien asks as he and Marinette leave the bakery.

A giggle escapes her. "You look so stupid."

He gives her a flat look. "Need I remind you that it's your fault I have to walk around with tissues shoved up my nose."

"If you didn't want to get hit, you shouldn't go snooping around girl's beds and startling them when they're sleeping."

"I wasn't snooping! I was trying to wake you up. Plus, your parents let me in!"

"You're right, Chat. You were only trying to help." She leans up on her tiptoes to ruffle his already wild hair. "But you still look stupid."

He swats her hand away, pouting. "You are a terrible girlfriend."

"At least I don't have tissues shoved up my nose."

"Alright, that's it!"

He lunges for her, but she's already running ahead, laughter spilling from her lips. A challenge sparkles in her eyes as she looks back at him. His tail swishes. Well, if she wants to play.

He lets her get ahead—just enough. Then he speeds up and catches her by her waist, swinging her up over his shoulder. A little shriek escapes her, but she's still laughing and her body relaxes into him. His arm is clamped tight over her thighs so she can't slip.

"Caught you," he taunts.

"I can see that." She gives a token wriggle. "You can put me down now."

"Don't think I will."

"Chat!"

He grins and stops at the traffic light, waiting for the pedestrian icon to turn green. Lots of people are staring. Not that he can blame them. He and Marinette probably do look odd since he has bloody tissues shoved up his nose and she's being carried like a sack of potatoes.

He carries her all the way to the school gates before he places her down on her feet. She immediately folds her arms and purses her lips. Some of the students milling about pause to watch or take pictures.

"There," he says, and lowers into a bow. "You have arrived safely."

"You are ridiculous," she declares, though her eyes cannot quite hide her amusement.

"You're the one who wanted to play Cat and Mouse. You should know we cats don't like to let our prey go."

"Oh, I'm your prey now?"

He smiles and leans down so he's more at her level. "Of course not. You're my princess."

She stares at him for a good second before a snort escapes her and she's hugging her stomach, laughing and laughing

"What?" he says, a bit affronted. That had been one of his best lines.

"I'm sorry. I just"—more giggles—"I can't take you seriously when you have tissues up your nose."

He tries to be affronted, he really does, but he ends up joining in her laughter. This makes one of the tissues shoot out of his nose, which has her practically collapsing on him as she struggles to breathe. (He'd like to say it's not that funny, but he knows it is. Plus, the fact he has made her cry from laughter is a sort of accomplishment in itself. He'll take it.)

"Alright, alright," he says, steadying her on her feet. "Much as I love your company, princess, I have to go now. Got my own school to get to."

Her lips tremble slightly as she tries to sober up. "Okay. Oh, and thanks for walking me. Short as it was, I did have fun."

"Any time."

He leans in on instinct, kissing her cheek. Pink blooms on her face and her eyes widen.

"What was that for?" she whispers, touching the spot where his lips had just been pressed.

"Errr. Audience. Thought it would look good. 'Kay, gotta go now. Bye."

He vaults away with his baton, his cheeks warm.

Chapter Text

Marinette is trying to fend off Alya's teasing when Adrien enters the classroom. His eyes catch hers. A faint smile curves his lips and he moves towards his desk, still holding her gaze. Too bad Nino immediately claims his attention.

"Bro," Nino says. "What happened to you? You were gone for ages."

Adrien sits down at his desk. "Oh, I thought I told you. I forgot something at home, so had to call my driver to bring it to me." He swivels to face the girls, and his smile surfaces again as he looks at Marinette. "Nice to see you made it."

"Huh?" she says intelligently.

"Before the bell." A hint of cheekiness flickers in his eyes. "I noticed you've been struggling with that of late."

Alya and Nino snicker.

"Oh." Marinette's cheeks warm in a flooding rush. "Y-yeah, I guess I'm just good mornings with not. I-I mean not mood with gornings. I mean—"

His head tilts slightly, a slight crease forming on his brow.

Oh no. He must think she sounds like such an idiot.

She squeezes her eyes shut, wishing the floor would swallow her. "I'm not good with mornings," she finally manages to get out.

He gives her an odd, unreadable look before his soft smile appears. "I see. Well, I'm glad you made it." A wink. "And I'm sure Miss Bustier will be as well."

She giggles and raises her book so it's half hiding her face, all pink cheeks and shy eyes peeping over at him. He's so sweet and funny and—

"Don't give this girl any credit," Alya says, nudging Marinette with her elbow. "The only reason she's here is because her boyfriend collected her. Literally. He carried her to the school gates and everything."

Adrien's mouth twitches. "Oh?"

Marinette freezes, even as those beautiful green eyes fix on her.

"So he's your new alarm clock, is he?" Adrien asks.

There it is again—that teasing lilt in his voice, the spark of mischief in his eyes. It does funny things to her stomach but, to her flustered confusion, also reminds her of Chat Noir's playfulness. Too bad her tongue turns to gibbering knots when she's around Adrien. She'd know exactly how to respond if it was Chat seated across from her. (Raise her chin and tell him she'd rather be late than have a silly cat wake her up every morning.) As it is, all she manages is a few stutters and blushes.

"Dude," Nino suddenly says, tapping Adrien on the arm. "Your nose."

"Huh?"

"Your nose is bleeding."

Sure enough, a trickle of red seeps onto Adrien's upper lip. He swears under his breath and reaches for his bag, but Alya is already handing him a tissue.

"Thanks," he says, holding the tissue to his nose to stem the flow. "Don't know where this came from. I hardly ever get nose bleeds."

"Maybe it's Marinette," Alya says with a snort. "Chat Noir had a bleeding nose this morning as well."

Adrien's laugh is a bit strained. "Really? Wow. What a coincidence."

Marinette groans and sinks lower into her chair. She is tired of Alya teasing her about Chat, and the last thing she needs is that teasing to happen while Adrien is within earshot. Thankfully, Nino says nothing, though his gaze keeps flickering from her to Adrien. Come to think of it, he's been doing that a lot—just staring at them whenever they interact …

She raises her book so she's hiding behind it. It's a relief when class starts.

oOo

The akuma is an easy one to handle. Maybe that's why Chat's behaviour sticks out so much. He's always joking and flirting, always seizing any opportunity to get in her space, but today he just … gets the job done. Well, no, maybe that's not true. He still jokes and makes some truly awful puns, but something isn't the same and she can't place her finger on it.

"Is something wrong?" she asks, once the cure has fixed everything and they're alone.

He blinks. "What do you mean?"

She chews on her lip, not sure how to explain when she's not even sure what's niggling at her.

"Ladybug?" He leans on his baton and gives her a puzzled look.

A groan almost escapes her as she realises the problem. That name—Ladybug—that's what he has been calling her the entire time. And it's not just today. For a while now, he's been much more professional with her. He's made no attempts to kiss her cheek or hand, made no attempts to derail their akuma-fighting to bust out a little flirting on the side.

And she misses it. (Horror of horrors.) She misses the stupid nicknames, misses his cheeky grins and attempts to be Mr Suave.

Misses what she gets so easily from him now as Marinette.

A groan does escape her this time and she covers her pink cheeks. "Oh my gosh."

"What?" he says, startled and taking a step towards her. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing. I have to go."

She yoyos away, all the while wanting to hit her head against a wall over and over again. How could she have let this silly cat get under her skin so much? It's Adrien she loves. Adrien who makes her world light up and her heart pound faster than she can handle. That is just a fact. She shouldn't care whether the cat calls her Bugaboo or not. She shouldn't care if he prefers to keep their partnership more professional now.

"It's just because you're not used to him acting like this," she mutters to herself. "He's always been so flirty, so of course it's weird when he isn't."

It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't.

Chapter Text

The button on the blade's point digs into Adrien's chest. Again. He blinks. Kagami lowers her sword and removes her mask, her expression unreadable.

"You are distracted," she says bluntly.

He rubs the base of his neck. "Sorry. Guess I'm not being much of a good partner today."

"Correct. Your form is sloppy and you are no challenge to me at all."

Um, ouch much?

Her lips curve the tiniest bit, though her tone remains flat. "But it's okay. I would still beat you anyway."

He raises his eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

"Well, I have won ten matches more than you. The statistics are in my favour."

He bites back a smile and gets his sword ready. "Let's see if I can even it then."

oOo

He loses. Badly. But then of course he does. Kagami was right: he's distracted. Has been all day. It's like his mind is stuck in a loop and all tangled up with thoughts that he doesn't know how to unravel.

"You gonna get dressed or are you gonna stand there looking like an idiot all evening?" Plagg asks from where he's relaxing inside Adrien's locker. He even lets out a little burp that smells distinctly of camembert. Gross.

Adrien glowers at his kwami. "No one asked you. And keep your voice down. What if someone came in?"

"Then I'd hide in this bag and you'd look crazy."

Adrien rolls his eyes and starts tugging on his clothes. His thoughts soon drift again.

Ladybug really was acting weird today. Why had she run off like that? Was it his fault?

His stomach twists. That seems plausible. Though he hasn't liked to dwell on it, he knows he finds it confusing to be around her of late. Sure, he loves Ladybug. She found a place in his heart from the first akuma they fought together. But lately … lately he doesn't always see her. It's something he's tried to ignore, tried to bury deep where he can't examine it, but the truth still creeps out.

He doesn't always see her because sometimes he sees Marinette in place of her.

Marinette's grin. Marinette's laugh. Marinette's smiling eyes. It's too confusing, almost jarring, especially since he can't figure out if they were always similar or if he's just imagining things. (And that in itself is unnerving. Ladybug had once been so bright to him, a permanent basis of comparison for every girl in his life, but now he can hardly look at her without thinking of Marinette. He certainly can't flirt with her like he used to.)

A sigh escapes his lips and he leans against the lockers, resting his forehead against his arm. Maybe it had been a mistake to ask Marinette to be his fake girlfriend. He doesn't want to ruin things with Ladybug. He really doesn't. However, not having all the gross attention from his fans has been a relief. (Sure, he still gets a lot of attention, but it's not the might-as-well-be-sexual-harassment kind.) He doesn't regret the time he's spent with Marinette either.

She's so amazing and funny. He loves spending time with her—seeks it out, can't even imagine not doing so—though he still wonders what the heck he'd been thinking when he'd kissed her cheek this morning. (Seriously, why had he done that? For the audience? Idiot!)

No, the only thing that bothers him about Marinette is that she still refuses to relax around him when he's not suited up as Chat Noir. Hasn't she claimed over and over they're friends? So why does she act so skittish when he's sans mask?

Some of the other boys enter the changing room. Adrien pulls himself together and finishes getting dressed into his casual clothes.

As far as fencing lessons goes, he can't say this was a productive one.

oOo

The next day, Adrien sits at his desk and twirls his pen round and round. Marinette still hasn't showed up. Should he go collect her again? There is still some time. (And it's not like doing so would mean he's betraying his feelings for Ladybug or anything.) It'll be funny to see Marinette's expression as well.

He glances at the clock, jiggles his leg under the desk, twirls his pen faster.

Ah, to heck with it. They're supposed to be making lots of public appearances together anyway.

"Where are you going?" Nino asks. "Class is gonna start soon."

Adrien freezes like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Um … toilet."

Nino nods and turns around to chat to Alya.

Phew.

oOo

Marinette yelps and jumps into a fighting pose when she spots him sitting at her kitchen table. "Chat!" She relaxes her posture, cheeks flushing. "You have got to stop doing that."

He laughs. "Sorry."

(He's not. Her reaction is everything he wanted.)

"There's croissants on the table," Sabine says, smiling at her daughter. "They're still warm."

"And delicious," he adds. He's already eaten two.

Marinette grabs one of the croissants and shoots pursed looks at him. "Why'd you let him in again, Mum? You know what they say about stray cats …"

"Meowch."

She pokes her tongue out at him.

Sabine's eyes twinkle. "He was very polite. Besides, I thought you claimed this stray for yourself, dear. Isn't that why you let him in your bed?"

Marinette chokes on her croissant and falls into a coughing fit. Her face gets redder and redder. Adrien can't say he is faring much better. His cheeks feel like they're on fire. Now he knows where Marinette gets her secret sassiness from.

"Well," Sabine says, dusting off her hands like her job is done now that she's reduced them both to flustered messes, "I have to get back to the bakery to help your papa. You two make sure you're not late to school, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," he says, giving her a salute. "You can count on me to get her there in time."

Marinette rolls her eyes and takes another bite of her croissant, but he's not blind. He can see the slight smile tugging at her lips.

oOo

"Enjoy that toilet break, bro?" Nino asks.

"Huh?" Adrien sits down at his desk, even as Miss Bustier starts the class. Lucky. He almost made himself late trying to find a safe place to detransform.

"You just seemed pretty happy when you came in."

"Oh." Adrien rubs the base of his neck. "Um, I guess?"

Nino gives him a long look that feels like being examined under a microscope. Adrien fidgets and glances the other way.

"Adrien," Miss Bustier says. "Please start us off by reading the first paragraph on page 83."

"Of course."

He flips to the page, grateful for the distraction.

oOo

Nino corners him after class. "You're Chat Noir, aren't you?"

Adrien almost drops his books. "W-what? No, of course not. Why would you—"

"Don't try to deny it."

"But I'm not him."

Nino slings an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in close. "My bro, if you didn't want to make it obvious, you really should have tried to control your feelings more around Marinette."

Adrien's jaw drops. "Marinette?"

"Yeah. I mean Chat Noir starts dating her and suddenly you're all goo-goo eyes, always holding her hand and trying to be close to her and stuff."

"She's my friend. I touch her in friendly ways, thank you very much, and I do not make goo goo eyes at her."

"Yeah, you do. Biggest goo goo eyes ever. It's no wonder everyone thought she was cheating on Chat Noir with you."

"That's ridiculous. Besides, that rumour only started because Lila—"

"And then you always disappear when akuma attacks happen and only turn up again once Chat Noir has gone."

Adrien squirms. "Th-that's not true. I just, um, find good hiding places because Father doesn't like it when I put myself in danger and—"

"But the real clincher is that you left class yesterday and this morning." A nudge. "And when did you come back? After Marinette. And who did she come to school with?"

"Chat Noir," Adrien finishes heavily.

"That's right."

Adrien slips out from under Nino's arm. "But that was just a coincidence. Honest."

Nino raises his eyebrows. "Right. A coincidence, like the fact you and Chat Noir both had a bleeding nose yesterday morning?"

"Yes. Total coincidence."

Nino gives him the microscope stare. Adrien squirms some more.

"Yeah, no. You're Chat Noir."

"Nino, c'mon. You can't seriously think that I'm Chat Noir? You know me. You know my father. How could I possibly pull off being a superhero when I can't even leave my house half the time?"

"Then explain why you're suddenly so interested in Marinette."

Adrien blinks, his face warming. "I-I'm not. She's a—"

"Friend? Yeah, no. People don't make goo goo eyes at their friends. They do at their girlfriends, though."

Adrien bites his lip. He has to get Nino off the Chat Noir scent. He absolutely cannot let this suspicion remain. Plagg and Ladybug will kill him.

"Okay, fine," he mutters. "I'm not Chat Noir. I swear I'm not. But … you're right that I have feelings for Marinette."

"I knew it!"

Adrien clamps a hand over Nino's mouth. "Keep it down, would you?" He shifts his grip on his books, casting a panicked glance up and down the empty corridor. "Look, it doesn't matter how I feel about her because she's dating Chat Noir. So I'll just stay her friend, and you have to keep this to yourself, got it?"

Nino nods.

"Good." Adrien removes his hand.

They head to their next class. Adrien catches Marinette's gaze and his face warms. He slinks into his chair, shoulders hunched up near his ears.

He really, really hopes this won't come back to bite him in the arse. Marinette probably won't forgive him a second time.

Chapter Text

Marinette wonders if she's still dreaming. Surely that is the only reason the Gabriel Agreste would request her to be a model for him? (Albeit, he'd got Nathalie, aka Stern Secretary Lady, to make the request in his place, but the result is still the same. Marinette is going to be a model for his latest line's next shoot.)

"Tikki," she says, slumping to her knees on her bedroom floor. "Pinch me."

Sharp pain ripples through her arm.

"Ow! Tikki!"

"You said to pinch you," the little red kwami points out.

"I didn't mean to actually do it."

Tikki sighs and mumbles something under her breath about confusing human ways. Marinette chooses to ignore this.

"I just can't believe he asked me to model," Marinette says. "Me! After everything that's happened! And I'll get to do some photos with Adrien as well." She sighs happily, hands pressed together in prayer-like gratitude.

"About that," Tikki says. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"What do you mean?"

"Wouldn't doing a photoshoot with Adrien only make things more complicated?"

Marinette worries her bottom lip between her teeth.

"I know you like Adrien, but you did agree to be Chat Noir's fake girlfriend and there are a lot of rumours going on about you two. This might fuel the fire again."

"Ah, I'm sure it'll be fine," Marinette says, waving her hand in a dismissive manner. "I don't think Gabriel Agreste would have requested me to model if he thought it would be a bad thing." She smiles. "Who knows? Maybe this will actually make things better."

Tikki sighs and facepalms.

oOo

"Hey, Marinette," Adrien says.

Marinette jumps, almost clunking her head on her locker door, but manages not to shriek this time. "Adrien," she says with some exasperation, turning to face him. "You have got to stop sneaking up on me."

His eyes widen. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

She clamps her hands over her mouth. She just scolded Adrien! "No, no, no!" she says, waving her hands frantically. "I didn't mean that! You're fine! Absolutely fine! So fine!"

"Okay …"

Oh no. Did he misinterpret her?

Her cheeks warm. "I-I mean not fine fine, as in wow you're so hot fine, but fine as in it's okay that you gave me a fright. Not that you're not fine fine either. I'm sure you already know how fine you are." Her hands form finger guns.

Wait. She just finger-gunned Adrien Agreste. (And called him fine.)

Please let the floor swallow her whole.

He rubs the back of his neck, and his cheeks look a bit pink. "Um, thanks."

Wait, is he blushing? Did her stupid finger guns and awkward compliment work?

Adrien clears his throat. "Anyway, I heard you agreed to do some modelling for my father."

"Y-yes."

"That's great." His eyes warm in a smile. "Photoshoots can be pretty boring, but it'll be a lot more fun with you there."

She makes a dreamy face and her voice changes to match. "Yeah …"

Nino slings an arm around Adrien's shoulders, pulling him in close. "Oh, I bet model boy here will enjoy having you as a photoshoot partner."

Adrien gives his friend a sharp look, which Marinette doesn't understand.

"He'd probably love to give you some private tips as—"

"Oh, wow," Adrien says loudly, "looks like it's almost time for class. Come on, Nino, we don't want to be late!"

Marinette blinks as Adrien offers her a parting smile, all the while getting Nino in headlock, and then practically drags his friend off to the classroom.

What the heck?

oOo

"Alya," Marinette says in a low tone, sitting down next to her friend at their shared desk. "Don't you think Adrien and Nino have been acting kind of weird lately?"

Even now the boys are whispering to each other: Nino with a smirk, while Adrien looks more like a grumpy cat who's been prodded one too many times. It's a rare expression on Adrien. He's normally so sweet and mild.

Alya twirls her pen. "Oh, believe me, I've noticed. Nino knows something and he's not telling me."

"I think it might have something to do with Adrien."

A sly grin curves Alya's lips. "Don't worry, girl. I'll ask Nino out on a date tonight. Trust me, if he does know something, I'll get it out of him."

The teacher calls their attention and starts the class. Marinette sighs. Time to pretend to listen to the wonders of geometry.

oOo

Marinette isn't sure why she messages Chat that night to tell him about the photoshoot. It's not like they're really dating. Even if they were, there's no rule saying she needs to ask his permission. (Ugh, as if.) But the thought of him hearing about it through someone else makes her stomach feel all wriggly, so she types the words off and hits send.

An incoming call alert flashes on her screen.

Her eyes widen. He's never called her before.

She hits the Accept Call button and holds the phone to her ear. "Chat?"

"Hey."

His voice is huskier than normal with just a teeny lilt of amusement. It's the latter that makes her lips purse.

"I thought we agreed it was safer not to call each other," she says.

"Well, I was asleep, but this girl decided to message me at two o'clock in the morning about her upcoming photoshoot with Adrien Agreste. Oh, and I can't be bothered typing."

"It's two o'clock?"

"Mmhmm. Did you not notice?"

"Er … I was sewing."

His laughter is soft. "You know what, I'm not even surprised." There's a slight rustling sound. "Well, I'm sure whatever you're creating is amazing."

Curiosity prickles at her. "Are you in bed?"

"Yes …" His tone turns teasing, and she can almost hear his grin. "Why? Wanna know what I'm wearing?"

"No!" Heat blooms in splotches all over her face. "Of course not."

"It's real sexy."

"Don't care, don't wanna know."

"You'd swoon at the sight. See, I have—"

"Ugh, Chat!" she hisses, careful not to raise her voice too much and wake her parents. "You are impossible!"

He laughs, low and warm. "You walked into it."

She knows she did, which is also why she's glad she's speaking to him on the phone so he can't see her smile. "You are not funny."

"You're right. I'm hilarious."

"I'm rolling my eyes right now."

He laughs again and then there's more rustling, like he's shifted in the bed. Her face burns hotter as she finds herself wondering what he actually is wearing, if anything at all. (That stupid cat! Now he's put weird thoughts in her head.)

"So, the photoshoot," he says.

"R-right. The tophoshoot. I-I mean photoshoot."

Ugh, no. What is happening to her?

"You worried about it or something?" he asks.

"Um, kind of." That isn't why she messaged him, but she has to admit she is nervous. "The only modelling I've done is for my own designs, and that's amateur stuff at best."

"Don't worry. You'll be great."

A shy smile touches her lips and she shifts the phone to her other ear. "You really think so?"

"Of course."

The sincerity in his voice stirs a few flutters in her stomach. "Thanks, Chat. That means a lot."

"Just saying the truth."

Her smile widens. Sometimes he can be so sweet.

A stifled yawn comes through the phone.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she says, bolting upright on her chair. "I'm keeping you awake, aren't I?"

"It's fine. I like talking to you."

"Maybe so," pipes up a different voice, "but some of us actually are trying to sleep."

There's a series of muffled sounds, one of which definitely sounds like the name Plagg being hissed. Marinette bites her lip so she won't giggle.

"Who was that?" she asks innocently.

"O-oh, um, no one. Just, um …"

"Who are you calling no one?"

"Plagg!"

She clamps her hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking. More squabbling comes through the phone.

"And what have I told you about the camembert?" she can hear Chat Noir grumbling. "It's bad enough you make me smell like old gym socks all the time, but do you have to bring your stinky cheese into my bed as well?"

"It's on my pillow," his kwami, Plagg, responds. "This is my side of the bed."

"It stinks!"

Marinette can't stop the giggles that burst out of her like merry bells. "Maybe I should let you go," she says. "Sounds like you already have company."

"N-no, it's—wait, you didn't hear all that, did you?"

"Yep."

A groan.

"Next time try covering the microphone, genius," Plagg suggests.

There's a soft thwump as if Chat has flopped against his pillow. "Look, Marinette, it is definitely not what you're thinking, okay? I do not have another person in this bed with me. I don't … I'm really not like that. I mean I've never …"

He sounds so flustered that she can't help but tease him a little.

"Hmm, I dunno if I believe you. I mean they even have their own pillow and side of the bed. Sounds like pretty damning evidence to me."

Chat makes an odd, choked sound. "It's not like that, I swear! He's just—"

"I wonder what Ladybug would say if she knew about your inamorato."

"Marinette!" he practically whines.

She giggles. "I'm just messing with you. I am friends with Alya, you know, so I've picked up a few things from her. I'm guessing the camembert-lover has something to do with your miraculous, right?"

He sighs in relief. "Yeah. Part of the parcel of being Chat Noir and the bearer of the miraculous of destruction is that I have this annoying cat who talks too much."

"And likes to hide cheese in your bed?"

He groans again.

"Well, tell Plagg I say hi and I'll be sure to prepare some cheese for him the next time you stop by."

"Trust me, he gets spoiled enough here. You don't have to do that."

Plagg's voice in the background strongly disagrees.

She smiles, her voice softening. "Goodnight, Chat. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Night, Marinette."

The call goes dead. She clambers up to her bed and nestles under the covers, making sure to set her alarm for school. A new message pops up from Chat. (He's nicknamed Silly Cat on the app). She clicks on the message and has to suppress a snort. He's sent a picture of himself, or rather from his lower face down, showing off his fluffy blue onesie. Comic characters and the word POW! are sprinkled on top in bold colours.

Silly Cat: So sexy, right? I bet you're swooning right now.

She's still shaking with giggles as she types her response.

Me: You are an idiot. Go to sleep.

Silly Cat: ;)

Chapter Text

"Hey there, Buttercup." Alya loops her arm around Adrien before he can make it up the school steps. "You and I need to talk."

He audibly swallows. "Um, sure?"

She drags him away to one of the unoccupied benches and forces him to sit down. Instead of taking the spot next to him, she chooses to loom over him, hands on her hips. This does nothing to ease the flip-flopping in his stomach.

"Did I … did I do something wrong?" he asks. "You seem kind of mad."

"Oh, I'm not mad. I'm just thinking about how you're the biggest dunce ever!"

He blinks.

"Do you have any idea how long I—"

He waits for her to finish. "How long you …?"

"Never mind that." She leans forward, finger pointing an inch from his nose. "Now you listen here, Agreste. Nino told me that you think you fancy Marinette now—"

"W-what?"

"—so I need you to tell me what you plan to do about those feelings."

His brow furrows. "Nothing. She's dating Chat Noir."

"Please. You and I both know it's a fake relationship."

"It's real enough to the public. I'm not going to be the one to ruin that."

She narrows her eyes, looking him over speculatively. He tries very hard not to squirm.

"Alright, Buttercup. I'll keep your secret and not tell Marinette anything. I'm rooting for the cat anyway."

"What?"

She snorts. "Don't look so surprised. Those two may be fake dating, but if what they feel for each other is fake, then I'm secretly Chloe Bourgeois' number one fan and wish I was her bestie. I mean have you seen the way they look at each other? So much sexual tension."

He chokes on his own phlegm and his face goes hot. "E-excuse me?"

She pats his shoulder. "Oh, my sweet summer child."

"Okay." He stands up. "This has been a great, uh, conversation, but I just remembered I forgot something, so …."

Her arm slinks back around him. "Aww, look how flustered you're getting. So cute."

He steps out of the hug and gives her a grumpy face. She snorts and slaps him on the arm in a friendly way before trundling off, hips swaying with smugness. Adrien gapes.

And gapes.

"Nino," he growls under his breath.

Time to have a chat with his friend.

oOo

The day of the photoshoot comes. Poor Marinette looks so small and nervous when she shuffles into the studio and learns what is expected of her. Not that Adrien can blame her. He's been modelling long enough to be comfortable posing in front of the camera, but the company has got him to branch out into more stylised shoots now that he's nearing sixteen, and this one is definitely more of a mood photoshoot. (Though he'll still take the challenge any day over sitting at the park and putting on a hundred different smiles while his photographer waffles about spaghetti.)

"Um, are you sure you want me to do this?" Marinette asks.

Nathalie looks down her nose at her. "Are you saying you can't?"

"N-no, I just … I mean I've never done this before and, uh …"

"Gabriel chose you because you have the look he wants, and you come with the added bonus of star power."

Her nose wrinkles. "Star power?"

"You're Chat Noir's girlfriend. Everyone is looking at you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

"Oh." A strained laugh escapes her. "Right."

Adrien leans over and gives her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry. I'll be right there with you."

She offers him a grateful smile. Then they're both ushered off to get changed and have their hair and makeup done.

Adrien is assigned white dress pants, which are delicately embroidered with a pattern reminiscent of white butterfly wings down the sides. There's a suit jacket to go with them, the lapel subtly cut to create a sharp-edged wing effect, but he's been asked not to wear it until his solo shoot. (Apparently, it will throw off the balance otherwise.) For now, he's to go shirtless. His feet are also left bare.

The hairstylist teases his hair to give more volume and craft it into a wild, golden halo. A wooden wreath intertwined with tiny white flowers and white butterflies is placed on his head. Finally, white eyeshadow colours his eyelids, all the way to his eyebrows, to create an aura of ethereality and bring out the vivid green of his irises. His lips are painted snowy white.

He looks youthful and unearthly, a fae-like creature of nature and stars glowing with innocence. Which is of course how his father wants it. The newest line's theme is butterfly, and today Adrien and Marinette are supposed to represent two akuma that have been purified.

One of the makeup crew clears his throat and nods at the miraculous ring. Adrien's heart thumps. Right. He can't wear it for this shoot.

Holding back a wince, he removes the ring and places it with his things. Hopefully, no akuma attacks happen while he's modelling.

With nothing else to do, he mucks around on his phone until the stylists are finished getting Marinette ready. His jaw drops and his phone almost slips out of his slackened grasp when he sees her.

Like him, her hair is loose and teased into a black halo with the wreath of flowers and butterflies on top. Her feet are bare, but her makeup differs in that they have given her a thin strip of black eyeliner on her upper lid and long, dark eyelashes to further contrast the white eyeshadow and blue of her eyes. Her lipstick is also white.

"Wow," he blurts. "You look …"

He trails off, lost for words. All he can do is stare like an idiot. The dress is beautiful anyway, but on her it comes alive: white silk with an off-shoulder, sweetheart neckline that hugs her petite frame before flowing out into double-ruffled sleeves that trail lace to her feet in draping wings. The skirt is flared and asymmetrical, stopping mid-thigh at the front and a little below at the back. (He doesn't think he's ever seen her show so much skin.) For the final touch, a silvery-white band of lace, embroidered with the same butterfly pattern on his pants, emphasises the high-waist cut of the dress.

"You look beautiful," he says softly.

Elfin, lovely, like a butterfly resting its wings.

Pink blooms on her cheeks and she ducks her head. He can't help but be flattered at the way she shoots his bare chest a look from under her lashes, her blush darkening. (The miraculous suit gives him extra strength and stamina, but all that fighting and running around after akumas has still toned up his body to give a decent amount of muscle definition for someone of his slim build.)

"Th-thank you," she mumbles, and this time dares to meet his eyes.

His heart fumbles on its rhythm.

"Alright!" The photographer, Claud, claps his hands. "Let's get this show rolling."

The stage has been set for them in the studio: a backdrop of midnight-blue and black with dark fabric rolled out under their feet. Purple butterflies gleam through the swirls of mist that billow around them. Everything the colours of shadow and night. Everything designed to focus attention on Marinette and Adrien.

Claud asks them to get into position, saying he'd like to do some standing shots first. Adrien seamlessly shifts into professional mode. Marinette, however, is awkward with her limbs and expressions. Too stiff, too nervous.

Claud makes a frustrated sound and lowers the camera. "No, no, no. You are not a robot, girl. You are a butterfly! Show me grace. Show me elegance. Show me something other than this wooden blah!"

Pink and red splotches her face. "I-I'm sorry." She shoots a strained look at Adrien and then over to Nathalie, who simply raises an eyebrow.

"Again," Claud orders.

Adrien tries to make it easier for Marinette, but she's too flustered after getting scolded. Her movements vary between stiff and sloppy. Worse, she struggles to meet his gaze and seems determined to keep space between them. This won't work. There's nothing harmonising about their poses. Any minute, Claud—a photographer known for his temper—is going to lose it for real and poor Marinette will probably be reduced to tears.

"Marinette," Adrien whispers.

She doesn't hear him. Her breathing sounds too fast. The lights are on them, the camera and crew right there, everyone staring and waiting. (Waiting for her to prove she can do it or be forced to give up.)

He has seen people akumatised for less.

Adrien steps closer and pulls her into him, getting a small squeak out of her. "Relax," he murmurs in her ear.

She goes very still. Her back is pressed to his chest, skin on skin since her dress dips in a low V at the back. He spreads his hand against her stomach and gently turns her so they're both side-on to the camera. A good angle to show off the embroidery on his pants and also the cut of her dress.

"Now raise your right hand up to my cheek," he whispers.

She does so, letting the trailing sleeve billow out with the wind effect and mist.

"Okay. Loosen your shoulders, relax your jaw, and look at the camera."

Claud smiles. "Yes! Perfect!"

Marinette lets out a shaky breath. Adrien continues to whisper guidance to supplement Claud's instructions as they take photo after photo. For one shot, he stands back to back with her, fingers intertwined. The picture of youthful innocence. For another, he sits at her feet, his cheek pressed to her thigh as she takes dominance with her fluttering, wing-like sleeves.

Slowly but surely she starts to relax more, requiring less and less whispered direction from him. They work with each other, feeding off each other's energy and movements. A perfect duo in harmony. By the time the bench is pulled out, she doesn't stiffen at all when he drapes his body around hers, chin resting on her head and his arm wrapped around her waist. She's all grace when she lies on his lap, lovely and warm, one hand clasping his near his shoulder while her other hand sweeps to the floor so her sleeve falls in a lacy cascade against dark fabric.

"You're doing great," he whispers to her.

She smiles, quick and shy, and then they switch poses again.

"Let's mix it up," Claud says. "Adrien, do you think you can lift her?"

"Sure."

He's done it countless times as Chat Noir, but even without the suit, he knows it won't be too much of a struggle. She's so tiny and petite.

Claud explains his vision for the shot, which consists of getting Marinette high enough to really make her sleeves billow out and create lots of dramatic movement and impact.

"May I?" Adrien asks, holding out his hands to her.

She blushes and nods.

He scoops her up, careful not to touch her anywhere inappropriate, and raises her so she can half-sit on his left shoulder. One of his hands keeps a firm grip on her thigh to keep her steady, and his other hand appears to caress her hip, though he's just supporting her weight.

"You okay?" he asks, looking up at her.

She smiles for answer and spreads her arms wide. Mist swirls and the sleeves flare out like wings.

A true butterfly in flight.

"Yes!" Claud exclaims, snapping shots from different angles while the crew with the wind machines shuffle around to shift the flowing dynamic of her sleeves. "Keep it up!"

When the muscles in Adrien's arms begin to protest, he carefully eases her down, his hands lingering on her waist. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes sparkling. Warm flutters stir within him.

She really is beautiful.

A brief touch-up is given to their hair and makeup, and the shoot continues. Adrien and Marinette shift from pose to pose as if in a delicate dance. Their bodies brush, their hands touch and glide against fabric and skin, always feather-light. But even so there's a subtle shift in the energy between them. It tugs at his blood, quickens his pulse.

It feels like he's slipping away with her into their own little bubble.

She stands with her back to the camera, partially in front of him. His hand rests on her waist while the other cradles the back of her head and neck, guiding her face up until their lips are so, so close.

Their breath intermingles. Their eyes meet.

Claud clears his throat. "Getting a bit too sensual there, Adrien," he says. "Remember we're going for youthful innocence."

Adrien flushes and releases Marinette as if burned. "Right. Sorry."

She turns the other way, pressing her hands to her red cheeks and looking anywhere but at him.

So awkward.

They're both a little stiff and tentative for the rest of the shoot together, but Claud doesn't seem to mind. He claims he got what he wanted. Still, Adrien sighs in relief when they're told they can have a break before moving onto the solo shots. Right now, he needs some space.

"Adrien, wait," Marinette says, tugging on his wrist.

He pauses and glances down at her, hoping she can't feel the way his pulse hammers under her touch. "Yeah?"

She bites her lip, fidgets with her hair. "I, um, just wanted to thank you for, um, guiding me and stuff. You really saved me back there."

"No problem." He smiles. "You turned out to be quite the natural. I'm beginning to wonder if there's anything you can't do."

Fresh pink blooms on her cheeks. He has an odd urge to touch the spreading blush, to let his fingertips caress her heated skin, but instead he swallows and looks the other way. His fingers curl into his palms.

"Um, I'm sorry for what happened back there," he mumbles, still not looking at her. "When I, uh … you know …"

"Oh." Her blush darkens. "N-no, it's fine. I mean—"

"I just sometimes can get carried away with modelling."

"R-right! I mean it's not like you would normally want to kiss me." She lets out an odd, forced laugh. "That would be weird."

His gaze skitters to hers and then off to the side. "Right …"

They stand there awkwardly.

"Well, I'm gonna go get a drink," she declares, and marches off towards her changing screen like her legs are made of wood.

He lets out a breath, his gaze following her until she disappears from his sight.

Oh yeah. He is in trouble. Big, big trouble.

Chapter Text

The akuma strikes during Adrien's solo shoot. One of the stylists caught Claud's ire, and now the guy is calling himself Trendsetter and going around in a violently pink suit with huge shoulder pads and changing everyone to look like various fashion trends from history. (Claud, much to Marinette's amusement, got hit with 80s glam rock.) To top it off, once a person is hit by Trendsetter, they're unable to do anything but strike fashion poses.

Marinette can't afford to be hit. She can't afford to linger to help Adrien escape either. So she sneaks away the first chance she gets to grab her earrings. (She'd been forced to take them off for the shoot.) It is a huge, huge pain in the butt. Everything is so much easier when she's already wearing her miraculous.

"You see," Tikki says, once Marinette finally gets the earrings on. "I told you it was a bad idea to take off the—"

"No time for that now, Tikki! Transform me!"

The magic takes hold, covering up the butterfly-inspired dress with the red and black Ladybug suit. Marinette charges back into the main part of the studio. The area is full of people wearing odd outfits and striking poses. There's Claud with his mullet perm and flared, glam-rocker jumpsuit. There's another (maybe one of the assistants?) dressed like a 1920s flapper. The giant, gorilla-looking bodyguard is dressed in an eighteenth-century court dress, complete with giant panniers, patch, wig and powder. Then she spots Trendsetter with his ridiculous pink suit and blue pompadour, trying to zap a fleeing Adrien.

"Adrien!"

She latches her yoyo around his waist and yanks him into her arms. His eyes widen, cheeks dusting with pink.

"Ladybug!" Trendsetter greets. "Nice of you to—"

But Marinette doesn't stick around to hear the rest of Trendsetter's speech. She scoops Adrien up so she's holding him bridal style and runs.

oOo

"Um, Ladybug," Adrien says as she carries him down a hallway. "You really don't have to worry about me. Just put me down here and I'll be fine."

"Not here. Trendsetter is still following."

"But I need—"

Her gaze meets his, eyebrows rising in question at the sudden edge of urgency in his tone. A myriad of emotions flicker over his face, too fast to unravel, before his expression settles into a twitchy, strained smile.

"—to change my clothes."

A laugh escapes her. "Sorry, Adrien. I don't think this is really the time to be worrying about your outfit."

"I know, I know." He bites his lip. "It's just, uh, kind of embarrassing to be wearing this outside the photoshoot, you know?"

She spares a glance for the white dress pants and suit jacket. The jacket is unbuttoned, baring a good part of his toned abdomen and chest, and he's still wearing the wreath and makeup. Her face warms. It's a good thing she's just spent a lot of time being up, close and personal with this unfairly beautiful boy, otherwise she'd probably be a mess of floundering nonsense soup right now.

"I think you look good," she manages to say with only the barest trace of a stammer.

Pink blooms on his cheeks. "You do?"

"Y-yeah."

"Oh."

There's an awkward moment where they both just blush at each other. It makes her heart throb and throb, because he looks so adorable in his shyly pleased astonishment, but she's Ladybug right now, and Ladybug can't afford to get distracted. (Though she does want to pat herself on the back for not tripping all over her words. That has to be considered a success.)

She fixes her attention ahead. "Anyway, let's get you somewhere Trendsetter can't find you."

A small sigh. "Right."

oOo

Marinette gently sets Adrien down on a rooftop a few blocks away. "You should be safe here."

He makes a noncommittal sound, more concerned with looking about the rooftop and rubbing his ring finger (close to his knuckle) with his thumb. His shoulders are as tense as a rubber band pulled tight.

"Adrien?"

He swings back to face her, giving that strained, twitchy smile. "Of course. Thanks, Ladybug. I'm sure I'll be really"—his smile twitches even more, and his left eye gets in on the action as well—"safe here."

Worry prickles within her. He seems super on edge. (And that is odd since she's witnessed countless times where he's helped her with akumas, both when she's been at his side as Ladybug and Marinette.)

She places her hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. This'll be over soon. Just sit tight."

He continues to rub the bare skin on his ring finger. "Will do."

oOo

"Where is that cat?" she hisses under her breath.

She's called Chat several times, but he still hasn't responded. This is not good. He's never taken this long to join her for an akuma fight before. (Well, aside from that one time he lost his ring and Plagg turned up in his stead.) Of course, Trendsetter isn't a particularly violent akuma, but she's still reluctant to take him on without support. One hit from his outfit transformation beam and her powers as Ladybug will be useless. Even if she does manage to keep the earrings and yoyo, she'd be stuck striking poses with the rest of the victims.

Screams drift to her from the street below.

Ugh, that cat! They are so going to have words when she next sees him.

oOo

"Miraculous Ladybug!"

The magic resets everything, returning all the victims to their normal clothes and allowing them to relax their modelling moves. Chat holds out his fist for her to bump, but Marinette has other things to worry about.

"H-hey, where are you going?" Chat asks.

"To get Adrien Agreste. I left him on a rooftop."

"Wait!"

She blinks.

"It's just … I, um, saw him earlier. On the street. So he's obviously not on that rooftop anymore."

"Oh."

Well, poor Adrien probably had been stuck up there for a while. (No thanks to Chat taking his sweet, sweet time.) She supposes she can't blame him for making his own way down.

"Anyway," Chat says, putting on one of his toothy grins, "since I regrettably had to leave you with most of the work today, why don't you let me take our stylist friend back to where he came from? You deserve a break."

"No, that's fine. I got it."

"But I insist." He sweeps in front of her, heading for the stylist (John? No, she's sure his name is Vaughn), who is still kneeling on the ground and looking a bit confused. "It's the least I can do."

"Chat, I got it."

They both grab one of Vaughn's arms.

Chat once more flashes his teeth. "Ladybug, please allow me to do this. I want to make up for leaving you in a lurch for so long."

She tugs slightly on Vaughn's arm, offering a sweet smile of her own. "And I'm telling you it's fine. I can take him back."

There's a brief scuffle as they both tug at Vaughn's arms—not at all hard, of course. Both are aware of their super strength. Both also don't let go. Marinette's smile becomes much more gritted. Chat's smile starts to twitch at the edges.

Vaughn clears his throat. "Uh, can one of you just take me back? My job is kind of on the line here."

Chat's smile widens. "Of course. I'll do that right now once my lovely partner here lets go of your arm."

"Or you could let go and I'll take him back."

This time he gives her an incredulous look over Vaughn's head, as if to demand why she's being so stubborn. She directs the same look back at him.

Her earrings beep.

"Ha!" Chat exclaims, and actually points his finger at her. "Looks like your time is running out, Miss Stubborn Spots."

"Stubborn Spots?" she echoes, scrunching her nose. (Sure, she'd missed the nicknames, but why does he always have to give her such ridiculous ones?)

Chat smiles far too smugly. "We both know that with your earrings beeping like that, it has to be me who takes him to the studio."

Her lips purse.

Vaughn heaves a big sigh. "Really, I don't care who takes me back. I just need to get back."

The black mask covers most of Chat's upper face, but she can still tell that he is raising an eyebrow at her. (No doubt daring her to contradict his logic.)

"Fine," Marinette grits out, releasing Vaughn's arm.

Chat flashes that smug grin again and then scoops Vaughn up and leaps away with the stylist. Marinette waits as long as she dares before she follows. (It wouldn't do to have him see her heading in the same direction, which is why she'd been so insistent about taking Vaughn back herself.)

Fortunately, she makes it back to the studio just as her transformation drops. Unfortunately, Chat is still there. (She can't say she is all that pleased to see him after he almost ruined everything twice.)

"Hey, princess," he says, and plucks at one of her long, trailing sleeves. "You're looking very purr-ty today."

She snatches her sleeve back, only to remember they have an audience and she can't afford to look grumpy with him. A smile is soon plastered over her lips. She leans up on her tiptoes and places her hands on his chest for stability as she gives him a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks, pookiebear."

His hands catch her waist, stopping her from sinking down to her usual height. "I mean it, you know," he murmurs in her ear. "You look beautiful."

Heat spreads all over her cheeks. Adrien gave her the same compliment, yet her heart thumps so much faster when those words come from Chat Noir's lips and his breath is a whisper on her skin.

He releases her with a wink, gives a two-fingered salute to their audience, and then dashes off to the sound of his beeping ring.

Marinette's face is still warm when Adrien returns.

Chapter Text

"Dude," Nino says, half laughing as he flicks through the fashion spread. "Your father really chose Marinette to do this with you?"

Adrien fights the warmth spreading on his cheeks. "It was just a photoshoot."

"Yeah, a photoshoot where you're wearing no shirt and you and Marinette are basically all over each other."

The warmth turns to fire. "It wasn't like that. That's just what modelling is like sometimes."

"Uh huh."

"It is!"

"My dude, you are bright red right now."

Adrien groans and hides his face against one of the cushions on the sofa. Truth be told, he had been a little confused as to why his father had chosen her for that photoshoot. Sure, the theme had been innocence, but with all the rumours flying around, it had seemed a bit ... odd. (Also, the fact that Marinette had never done professional modelling before. His father had basically thrown her into the deep end without first checking if she could swim, especially with Short-Fuse Claud as the photographer.)

"Can we please stop talking about this?" Adrien begs, face still mushed into the cushion. "We're supposed to be working on our science homework."

"Alright, alright."

A relieved sigh.

"Though you'd better watch those goo-goo eyes of yours or you really might have all of Paris breathing down your neck, not to mention a jealous boyfriend."

Adrien chokes on his own spit. "W-what?"

"I mean it would be different if you're Chat Noir—"

"I'm not."

"Right."

Adrien purses his lips. It's obvious by Nino's tone that he still has doubts.

Nino spreads his hands in an appeasing gesture. "All I'm saying is at this point it would be a bit weird if Chat Noir isn't a little bothered by you." His lips curve and he tosses the magazine at Adrien. "Especially when you're all over his girlfriend on the front cover of a magazine."

Adrien frowns at the photo. It's the one where he and Marinette are side-on, her back pressed to his chest and his hand on her stomach. Her fingertips skim his jaw. They're not even looking at each other, but there's no denying the chemistry between them—a chemistry that's as clear on the page as the bold headings.

He swallows and flips the magazine over. "It was just a photoshoot, Nino. I'm sure people will understand that."

oOo

"Adrikins!" Chloe exclaims, leaping at him in an attack of yellow and expensive-perfume. He's forced to hold her up by her thighs so they both don't go toppling. "You never told me you were doing a modelling shoot with Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

"Ah." He tries to ease her off. "Guess it slipped my mind."

She clings tighter. "You should have told your father you wanted me to model with you. I would have been much better."

"It wasn't really my decision, Chloe."

She unlinks her legs from around his waist, allowing him to place her back on her feet. "Well, next time you should tell him. It's ridiculous that you should have to model with Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Utterly ridiculous."

He tunes Chloe out as they walk together up the steps to school, having heard all her complaints before. It's only when she starts going on about how it's an insult that some people still think he's secretly dating Marinette—because obviously Marinette is too common and beneath him—that he decides to speak up.

"Don't say that," he says.

Chloe pauses mid-rant, mouth hanging open like a gaping fish. "What?"

"I don't consider Marinette beneath me. Honestly, I count myself lucky she sees me as a friend at all."

Chloe scrunches her face like he just shoved an unpeeled lemon into her mouth. "But she's Marinette."

"So?"

"So she's Marinette," Chloe repeats, as if that explains everything.

"Yeah. Marinette, who also happens to be an amazing girl. Even you have to admit she does lots of really nice things for people."

Chloe fluffs her ponytail and looks off to the side. "Peasant work. Why do all that when you can just make someone do it for you?"

He shakes his head, resigned to the fact she will never change. That's when he catches sight of Marinette coming towards the steps.

"Oh," he murmurs.

A part of him had hoped that seeing her again—more specifically, when she's not dressed like an enchanting butterfly-girl—would help to untangle a few things. Help him get his head back in the game and all. (Because Ladybug, as he has been telling himself over and over, is meant to be the only girl he likes.) Well, here Marinette is dressed in her every-day clothes and her hair donned in her trademark pigtails, and his breath still catches in his throat.

Then she trips.

Chloe lets out a bark of laughter. "You're such a klutz, Dupain-Cheng. Why don't you just stay on the ground since you seem to enjoy it down there so much?"

Adrien shoots Chloe an exasperated glance before he dashes down the steps to help Marinette back to her feet. "You okay?" he asks.

"Yeah."

His hand is still holding hers. Pink slowly blooms on her freckle-sprinkled cheeks.

"Um," she says, and glances down at their joined hands.

Oh. Right.

He lets go of her hand and rubs the base of his neck. "Well, uh, glad you're not hurt."

She smiles. "Thanks."

His stomach flutters. She's really cute when she smiles like that.

An arm loops around his shoulders. "You're making goo-goo eyes again," Nino whispers in his ear.

Adrien flushes and shrugs his friend off. Fortunately, Marinette doesn't notice anything amiss. Instead, she says she has to go ahead but she'll see them in class.

"You're hopeless," Nino says once they're alone.

"Shut up," Adrien grumbles.

oOo

He has a date with Marinette as Chat Noir the next evening. (At Alya's insistence.) The plan is to catch a movie together, but their main job is to make the most of the time they have buying their tickets and while they're in the public eye. Easy enough. It's something they've done plenty of times before.

Even if his heart does thump a bit faster.

Even if he does feel guilty for enjoying it way, way too much when she cuddles into him or leans up on her tiptoes to murmur the occasional thing in his ear. She's warm and soft and her scent teases him with every inhale. All he wants is to bury his face in her hair, hold her closer. The dangerous thing is that he knows he can.

Right now they're pretending to be boyfriend and girlfriend. Right now he has all the excuses in the world.

He swallows. Hard.

"Do you want to get drinks and a popcorn to share?" Marinette asks.

He snaps out of his daze. "Sure."

They arm themselves with snacks and settle at one of the tables as they wait for their movie's cinema room to be cleared for entry. His heartbeat stutters when she leans over, popcorn clasped between her thumb and forefinger, and commands him to say ahh.

"You're not going to mash it on my face again?" he asks suspiciously.

"Of course not."

"I don't know if I trust you."

She laughs and pokes him in the cheek. "Just open your mouth. I promise I won't do anything bad."

He frowns but obliges her all the same. Playfulness glints in her eyes. This does not ease his doubts, yet she simply slips the piece of popcorn into his mouth. As she does, her thumb brushes the hypersensitive part of his lower lip. It's a shock of tingles and fluttering skip beats. His breathing hitches. His eyes widen into glowing, green moons.

"See," she says, lips curving. "I can be nice too."

He inhales.

And chokes.

One stupid little bit of popcorn manages to go down the wrong pipe, and then he's coughing and coughing, and she's patting his back but also laughing. The only good thing about the situation is that he can blame his tomato-red face on lack of oxygen rather than embarrassment.

"Here," she says, handing him his drink. "Maybe this will help."

He takes grateful slurps. Anything to help him calm down.

Get a grip, Agreste, he inwardly scolds. You. Are. In. Love. With. Ladybug.

Not to mention the fact that everything Marinette is doing with him is an act. All the flirting, the casual touches. None of it is real. He knows this, yet his stupid heart is like some dumb fish stuck on a hook, getting tugged this way and that by her smiles and bluebell eyes.

Is he really so fickle? Is it this easy for him to fall for another girl after all his proclamations of love and loyalty to Ladybug?

Marinette touches his arm. "Looks like we can go in now."

"Huh?"

Her easy laugh slips free and she tugs him up from his seat, despite the fact he's much taller and it requires some effort on her part. "Come on, Space Case," she teases. "Our movie awaits us."

oOo

"Thanks for tonight," she murmurs as he drops her off later on her balcony. "I actually had a lot of fun."

"Me too."

She leans in and hugs him, warm and lingering. His pulse quickens. Unlike the hugs he received during their date, this one is definitely just for him. No audience, no reason to pretend. Just a simple expression of affection.

"Goodnight, Chat," she says, pulling back.

He catches her hand before his mind has caught up with what he's doing. Holding her gaze, he places a light kiss on her knuckles.

"Goodnight," he whispers to her skin.

Chapter Text

The spoon of yoghurt falls from Marinette's grasp, clattering on her desk and splattering drops of vanilla bean. Her eyes bulge. There, in all its hi-definition glory on her computer screen, is a shirtless Adrien Agreste standing with one hand on her waist while the other cradles the back of her head. Their eyes are locked. Their lips so, so close.

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no.

Marinette can almost taste the memory: heart-thudding sweetness with a dash of heat, a dash of almost. And now that almost is on display for all of Paris to see. (And also looks far too much like a most definitely did.)

"This is a disaster!" she wails.

Tikki doesn't say she told her so, but the prim line of her mouth is speaking enough. Marinette groans and lets her forehead thunk against the desk, dislodging a few pencils. She repeats this gesture a few more times.

Her phone buzzes.

And buzzes.

And buzzes.

This is all wrong. The photo was never meant to see the light of day. It had been scrapped for being too sensual. It is too sensual.

It is a beautiful, taunting disaster, and now her phone won't stop buzzing.

"Tikki," she says feebly, raising her face and showing off the bright red spot on her forehead. A few bits of yoghurt cling to her hair. "What do I do?"

Tikki flutters over to pat her shoulder. "Well, first I suggest you clean up all this yoghurt. Then maybe you can get started on answering your friends."

A despairing cry escapes Marinette, even as her phone continues to buzz with the stream of incoming messages and call alerts. This is going to be a nightmare.

oOo

"I am so sorry about this," Marinette says as she and Chat walk hand-in-hand along the Seine.

It had been agreed, or rather Alya had insisted during their emergency meeting, that the best thing to combat the leaked photo was for Chat and Marinette to act even more like a lovey-dovey couple—show that it meant nothing and all that. The usual damage control protocol.

Except what is meant to be a romantic walk is more of an obstacle course of paparazzi and journalists.

Chat gives her hand a small squeeze. "It's fine. It's not like either of you could help it the picture was leaked. Besides, Adrien told me he was the one who guided you into that pose."

"Yeah, but I still went with it, and I'm supposed to be your girlfriend and—"

"Hey." He shifts to grip her shoulders, bringing her to a halt as he looks down into her eyes. "I'm telling you it's fine. You were just modelling. It … these things happen sometimes."

She bites her lip.

He boops her nose with his finger. "Stop looking so worried."

"I can't help it!" She covers her face with her hands. "I keep screwing things up for you—"

"That's not true."

"—and putting you in all these awkward situations—"

"I don't mind."

"—and I bet you're secretly wishing you asked someone else to be your girlfriend, because all I do is get into disaster after disaster and—"

"Marinette, no."

She blinks as she's suddenly pulled into his arms. He holds her close, letting her feel the steady drum of his heartbeat.

"No," he repeats softly, and smooths his hand along her hair. "I could never regret asking you."

Flutters stir within her, warm and confusing. "But—"

"No buts." He holds her tighter. "You are an amazing girl. Besides, if anyone should be apologising, it's me."

"You?"

"I dragged you into this mess. No one would have accused you of cheating or written any of those awful articles had I just handled my fans myself." He pulls back enough to press his forehead to hers, his eyes soft but conflicted as he meets her gaze. "I'm sorry. I've been really selfish."

"Oh, Chat, no. You know I—"

"Chat Noir!" a woman calls from farther down the walkway, cameraman following behind. "Marinette! Can we ask a few questions!"

Marinette sighs. "Here we go again."

"We could just leave," Chat suggests, still with his arms wrapped around her and resting his forehead against hers.

"You mean run away?"

"I prefer to think of it as exercising our right not to answer a million annoying questions."

A smile tugs at her lips. "Did you forget that the whole point of this is to be seen by the public and answer annoying questions?"

He lets out a small groan. "Why must you be logical?"

"One of us has to be."

"Meowch."

She laughs, but then her gaze slips away from his. Warmth blooms on her cheeks. "Actually, I do have an idea for how we could confirm we're still a happy couple in a much more effective way."

"Oh?"

"Well, it's like Alya said, right? We just have to be more lovey-dovey." She shoots a look at him from under her lashes. "But, um, it would mean breaking the rules again."

His gaze drops to her lips before darting back to her eyes. "You mean we kiss? Right now?"

"Y-yeah."

"You're okay with that?"

"Are you?"

He swallows and the conflicted look returns to his eyes.

"B-but it's not like we have to!" she stresses, blush darkening. "It was just a stupid idea. I just thought—"

A scream tears through the air.

Chat and Marinette both jump. A second scream, this one yelling about an akuma, jolts them into action.

"Go find somewhere to hide," he urges. "I'll come get you when it's over."

"Okay."

The journalist lady calls out to him as he gets his baton ready to vault away, but he fobs her off by claiming he has to go handle the akuma. Marinette seizes the chance to escape before she can get cornered for an interview. Her kitty is going to need her support.

oOo

The akuma victim, Heartbinder, is one of Chat's more obsessive fans. She has a jester-like appearance, complete with a pink cap with twin bells. A black heart is painted over her left eye and she wears black lipstick. Her bodysuit is pink and accented with black stripes, poofing out into puffy little sleeves and shorts. Black thigh-high boots, complete with curly tips, don her feet. In her hand, she holds a small staff with a pink heart on top. A single zap from it forces a person to become enthralled with her and fall under her control.

"Come on, kitty-kitty," Heartbinder coos, firing a flurry of heart beams at Chat as he desperately darts around her in circles on all fours. "Stay still so I can direct your love to someone who deserves it."

"Sorry," he says, leaping up onto a lamppost, "but this cat's heart isn't yours for the taking."

"You won't feel that way soon!"

He yelps, just missing getting hit. "Hey now, there's no need to be like that. You're all about hearts, right? What do you say we stop all this fighting and have a nice heart to heart instead?"

"Oh, we can have all the heart to hearts you like—once yours belongs to me!"

Heartbinder laughs maniacally and shoots more glowing, heart-shaped beams at him. Chat vaults away, landing next to Marinette on the rooftop where she's been hiding.

"Please tell me you've figured out the Lucky Charm," he says, trying to catch his breath.

She winces. "Not yet."

As far as she's concerned, it's just a sunhat. There seems to be no use for it in this fight. It can't even block Heartbinder's heart beams.

A little groan escapes Chat. "Are you sure that yoyo is working properly? I know it's a good habit to protect ourselves from the sun, even in winter, but I don't think being sun smart is our top priority right now. Plus, she's—"

Heartbinder drops down in front of them. Marinette's eyes bulge in panic. She reaches for her yoyo just as a glowing heart comes for her head. Then Chat is in front of her, shielding her with his own body.

Of course he gets hit.

Of course he is immediately enthralled.

Heartbinder lets out her anime-worthy cackle. "At last! Chat Noir is mine! Now to take his miraculous and find out who this handsome boy really is under the mask."

Marinette doesn't hesitate. She throws the sunhat like a frisbee at Heartbinder's face and, using the distraction, latches her yoyo around Chat's waist and yanks him into his arms. Then she flees.

oOo

Chat is as inanimate as a doll, at least at first. Heartbinder must have given him some kind of command, for he's soon squirming and flailing in her arms like a feral cat desperate to escape. They tumble to the street in a tangle of limbs. A graceless struggle ensues, all claws and grappling as they roll on the ground and scrabble for dominance. Dimly, she's aware that the beeping countdown for her earrings has started.

"Snap out of it!" she growls, forcing him against the pavement.

He snarls and tries to kick her off.

Ugh, this is Dark Cupid all over again.

Wait.

Her gaze hones in on his lips. It worked last time. Maybe it will work for this as well.

"Sorry, Chat," she says, clamping her hands on his cheeks, "but right now I need my partner."

She kisses him, though it's more like a rough mash of lips. He freezes from head to foot. When she pulls back, he's staring at her with huge eyes.

"Did … did you just kiss me?" he asks.

A grin stretches across her face. "It worked!"

His expression does not change. "You did, didn't you? You kissed me and—"

"I just did what I had to do. Now come on." She tugs him to his feet. "We still have an akuma to stop."

"Wait, Ladybug, your earrings!"

"Huh?"

Reddish-pink light flares and her transformation fails.

Oh no.

Chapter Text

"Wait, Ladybug, your earrings!"

"Huh?"

Adrien squeezes his eyes shut—just in time. Light flares in an orangey burst behind his closed eyelids. Ladybug shrieks.

"I didn't see anything," he assures. "It's okay. Your identity is safe."

"You really didn't see anything?"

"I swear I didn't."

She lets out a big sigh that sounds like it's made her whole body sag in relief. "Okay. Okay, this isn't a complete disaster. You're no longer controlled by Heartbinder, my kwami just has to recharge, and—" A strained little sound escapes her. Two hands grab his arms, almost startling him into opening his eyes. "We have to go."

"W-what?"

"We have to go! Heartbinder is coming."

"But you're detransformed. If—"

"Chat, just get me out of here!" She jumps onto his back, arms and legs curling around him. "Hurry!"

He opens his eyes. Enthralled Parisians charge towards them. Heartbinder trails at the back of the group, laughing and shooting off glowing hearts everywhere. Adrien swallows and pulls out his baton.

"You didn't tell me about the mini army," he says.

"Chat! Less talk! More running!"

Right.

oOo

Adrien is distracted. It's just so strange to be giving Ladybug—or at least her civilian self—a piggyback ride. She's right there: arms around his neck, legs locked around his waist, her face pressed into his shoulder. No mask, no spotted suit. Just her.

His heart thumps and thumps and thumps.

He is so, so glad she had the sense to jump on his back. Much as he would never betray her trust by sneaking a peek, it's much easier to not have to deal with the temptation altogether. (Though he's doing a terrible job of not betraying his loyalty to keeping her as the only girl in his heart. Guilty knots form in his stomach whenever he thinks about how much he wanted to kiss Marinette by the Seine.)

"We have a problem," a high-pitched voice pipes up near his ear.

He flinches and has to resist the urge to look over his shoulder. "Who's that?"

"Just my kwami." Ladybug shifts against him. "What's wrong, Tikki?"

"There's no cookies."

"What? But I could have sworn I restocked this morning."

"Afraid not."

Adrien clears his throat. "Uh, is there a reason no cookies is bad? I mean I know cookies are always great, but …"

"My kwami can't recharge."

Oh.

Yeah, that's bad.

Tikki claims they should go find something sweet for her to eat, preferably cookies or macarons.

"Marinette's house isn't far from here," Adrien offers. "Her parents own the bakery, so—"

"No!" Ladybug shrieks, arms tightening around his neck like a python.

"L-Ladybug," he wheezes. "Can't breathe."

"Sorry." She relaxes her choke-hold. "I just, uh, think that would be a bad idea. Heartbinder really has it in for Marinette. You don't want to drag her parents into this, right?"

He does not.

Tikki reminds them that she still needs to eat something or Ladybug won't be able to transform. Unfortunately, this isn't as simple as it sounds since Heartbinder and the enthralled army are hot on their heels. It's a risk to stop or separate for anything, especially with Ladybug vulnerable like this.

"Um, Tikki?" Adrien says.

"Yes, Chat Noir?"

"Does it have to be something sweet?"

"It is my preference. Why?"

"Because I have cheese in my pocket."

"Cheese," Tikki repeats in a tone of the deepest disgust.

He laughs. "I know. Can't say I'm a fan either, but my kwami refuses to eat anything else, so I'm stuck carting it around with me."

Tikki mutters something about Plagg's terrible taste in food. Still, she reluctantly relents that anything edible will do—sweet things just give her a better boost of energy.

"Then cheese it is," he says. "Hang on, I'll find us a place to hide so I can detransform quickly and give it to you."

"Thank you," Ladybug says, and leans forward and kisses his cheek. "You're a lifesaver."

Warmth spreads over his face. "N-no problem. You know I'd never leave you and Tikki in a lurch."

She snuggles more into his back. "I know."

His eyes widen and he almost trips before leaping to the next rooftop. Why is she being so affectionate all of a sudden? She's never like this. Not with him. Not unless she's faking it to distract an akuma or—

Ahh, the cheese. Focus on the cheese!

oOo

They end up taking cover in a single-cubicle public toilet. Not his first choice as far as hiding places go, but at least it has a lock and no one (as far as he knows) saw them enter. There isn't much space in the cubicle, so he stands with his back to hers and tries to ignore the odd sense of déjà vu. This is not the time to be thinking of Marinette or the photoshoot.

"Don't worry," Ladybug says. "I won't look."

"I know. I trust you."

Really, the words don't have to be said. They've experienced too much together not to have complete faith that their civilian identities are safe with each other.

Tikki floats around to face him and smiles encouragingly. "Go ahead."

"Detransform me."

The magic slips away in green sparks, leaving him exposed. He feels rather than hears Ladybug's sharp inhale. Now they are back to back, no masks or suits between them. It's strangely intimate.

"Finally," Plagg sighs, stretching in the air. "I was getting tired of—Tikki!" He pauses, big green eyes sweeping the cubicle and its three other occupants. "Figures. I take one little cat nap to spare myself the pain of having to listen to these two lovesick fools—"

"W-what?" Ladybug squeaks. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"—and something exciting actually happens. Alright, Sugarcube, what did I miss?"

"Maybe you should have been paying attention," Tikki retorts.

Adrien shoots her a small grin as he reaches into his pocket for the sealed cheese and offers it to her.

Plagg lets out a strangled sound. "My camembert!" He swoops in, snatching the cheese up into his arms. "What are you doing with my precious camembert?"

"Oh, stop being so dramatic," Tikki scolds. "I need it to recharge."

"But you won't even appreciate it! Not the delicious, creamy centre. Not the way it melts on your tongue or the pungent, cheesy scent."

"You're right, I'd rather eat anything else but that foul excuse of a thing you call food."

Plagg's jaw drops. "You apologise!"

"I am not apologising to you."

"Not to me. To the camembert."

Tikki raises her eyebrow. "I am not apologising to your stinky cheese either."

Ladybug starts shaking against Adrien's back. He wonders if she's mad, but then a giggle bubbles free of her, followed by another and another. The sound is infectious. He soon finds himself laughing as well.

"D-don't worry, Plagg," Ladybug says, still trying not to laugh. "I'm sure Chat Noir will give you more camembert when this is all over."

"She's right," Adrien says. "There's no need for you to act so stingy. You have a whole mini fridge full of the stuff at home."

Plagg sniffs haughtily. "It's the principle of it."

"Oh, enough of this!" Tikki says, rolling her eyes. "Give me the cheese."

"But—"

"Give me the cheese!"

Plagg sighs and, with great drama, hands over the stinky piece of camembert. Tikki pops it into her mouth. (And pulls many faces of disgust as she chews.) This doesn't help to appease Plagg, who stares at her as if she's taken his first child from him and butchered it before his eyes. Once she's finished, she floats over to Ladybug's side of the cubicle, passing out of Adrien's sight.

Ladybug's hand slips into his. He starts at the shock of skin on skin, his pulse quickening.

"Ready?" she asks.

"You know I am."

They transform in unison.

She smiles when she faces him, and his stomach does a whole swoop of plummets and soars. (Because she's looking at him with such open warmth, and it's identical to the soft smiles Marinette gives him, and the fact he's thinking of Marinette at all when his lady is showing him affection just confirms he is the absolute worst. So fickle. So unfaithful. Heartbinder has it all wrong to be mad at Marinette when he's the one all torn up and confused because his heart races for two girls.)

"Let's go," Ladybug says.

He croaks a noncommittal answer and follows her out of the cubicle.

oOo

Heartbinder does not go down gracefully. Even after the akuma has been purified, the young woman insists that she would be a better girlfriend to him than Marinette Dupain-Cheng. It's awkward and uncomfortable, especially since she practically throws herself at him. (Not to mention looks like she might be in her late teens or maybe even early twenties.)

"I'm sorry," he says, forcing some space between them. "I really—I really have to go."

Perhaps it's cowardly of him to run, but his skin is crawling and he doesn't know how to deal with this without upsetting her or putting himself under further stress. (As Adrien Agreste, he has a bodyguard to stop this kind of thing from happening. Not so much as Chat Noir.)

Ladybug catches up to him on a rooftop. The sound of his name on her lips brings him to a halt.

"Hey," she says, touching his arm. "Are you okay?"

He forces a smile. "Fine, fine. Price of popularity and all. I mean who can blame them when I look like this?" He gives a token flex.

"Chat."

His smile only cracks a little. "I'm fine. I just wasn't expecting her to, you know, come on so strong. Plus, I actually do need to get back to Marinette."

"Oh. Of course."

He offers her a small salute and prepares to jump.

"Wait."

"What?" he says, spinning to face her.

Her arms come around him. He blinks, too stunned at first to return the hug.

"Thank you for today," she murmurs, holding him closer as she burrows her face into his chest.

His heart thumps so fast he knows she has to feel it. "What are partners for, right?"

She gives him an extra squeeze before she pulls back. (And there is that soft smile again, the one that whispers to him of another girl with freckle-sprinkled cheeks who somehow managed to make a home in his heart.)

"Take care, kitty," she says.

"Yeah. You too."

They go their separate ways. His heart is still heavy when he meets back up with Marinette.

Chapter Text

Chat turns up on her balcony in the middle of the night two days later. No messages, no warnings. His smile is strained and he's like a drooping sunflower stuck in the shade, all slumped shoulders and subdued energy. It reminds her of the night he came to her during the storm. The night they'd cuddled and he'd let her stroke his hair to draw out purrs and help him calm down.

She touches his arm. "Did you have a fight with your dad again?"

He blinks. "No, no. I just, um …"

"What?"

He avoids her gaze, taps a disjointed beat to his thigh, worries his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Chat." She clasps his hands to still his restless movement. "What's going on?"

The words spill out of him like a dam breaking. "I don't think I can do this anymore."

Her brow wrinkles.

"Us," he clarifies. "This fake relationship."

Something small and heavy, like a lumpy stone, sinks in her stomach. "You want to stop?"

"Maybe … maybe it's for the best. I mean with all the akumas that keep targeting you, and then all the media attention and those stupid articles …"

"Oh."

Her tone is a bit too hollow, and it has him making frantic motions at her with his hands.

"Not that I'm blaming you for that," he says. "None of this is your fault."

"But you still want to end things."

"Not because of you." He rubs the back of his neck. "I mean it does have to do with you, but not like that. Not what you're thinking."

She resists the urge to hug her arms around herself. This shouldn't feel like a proper breakup, not when their relationship was a sham from the beginning, but her heart aches like some bruised thing he keeps prodding.

It hurts.

"Then why?" she asks.

"Because I've already asked too much of you. I don't … I don't want you to feel like you have to keep putting up with all this mess or pushing your boundaries just for me."

Relief gusts through her. "Wait, that's what this is about? Oh, Chat, no. You don't have to worry about me. I told you I'm always happy to help."

"I know you are, but that's why maybe it's best we just end this now." He turns away, gripping the balcony railing. "Things keep slipping more and more out of control. How far are we supposed to go to maintain the lie? Where do we draw the line?" His voice softens, and he steals a glance at her from under his lashes. No, at her lips. "How many rules are we supposed to break?"

Oh.

Oh.

"The kiss," she murmurs. "That's what this is about."

He avoids her gaze.

So, it's true. He must have got spooked after she'd suggested they kiss a second time. (Even if she had only suggested they do it to help smooth things over.)

"I'm sorry," she says, hanging her head. "I only wanted to help. I didn't mean to make you feel pressured or like you had to kiss me." The awful lump is back in her stomach, sinking, sinking. "And I'm sorry I didn't ask for your permission when I kissed you the first time. I shouldn't have forced you into that. If you hate me now, I'll understand and—"

"What? No." He reaches for her hand. "Marinette, I could never hate you. And I'm not—you didn't do anything wrong when you kissed me, okay? I kissed you back. I was fine with it."

"But—"

"I don't regret anything I've done with you." He gently pulls her closer, even as his other hand moves to cup her face. The cool metal of his ring kisses her cheek. "I meant what I said the other day. You're an amazing girl. I never knew how amazing until we started this fake relationship. You're so funny and nice, and when you said we could kiss the other day, I just …"

Her heart thumps faster. "What?"

He audibly swallows. Their faces are close now, and his gaze lingers on her lips before he meets her gaze.

"Tell me," she says softly.

"I don't know if I should."

"Why not?"

"Because …" He dips his head closer, letting their breath intermingle.

Her eyes widen and her pulse turns into a thundering storm. The energy is charged between them, warm and dizzying. It creeps into her blood, into her bones. It makes everything in her flutter and thump to the pounding of her heart.

"Because the truth is I really wanted to kiss you, Marinette," he whispers. "I still do."

Her mouth forms a small O.

Their lips are so, so close, and she holds her breath in anticipation. Never has he looked at her with such open warmth. Such want. His gloved thumb brushes her cheek, grazing the corner of her lips. She exhales shakily. Then his expression turns rueful and he steps back.

"I'm sorry," he says. "You really have been the best fake girlfriend I could have asked for. I won't ask you to lie or pretend for me anymore, but I … I hope we can at least continue to be friends."

She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out. Her limbs won't move. All she can do is stare.

Chat Noir likes her. He actually likes her.

He sweeps into a bow, and though his lips curve into a soft smile, it's also edged with sadness. "Goodnight, Marinette."

"Wait." She rushes forward, catching his arm before he can leap away. "What about … what about Ladybug? I thought you loved her."

The conflicted look returns to his eyes. He lowers his gaze.

"Oh," she says softly. "You never stopped liking her."

"As you can see, I'm a bit of a hopeless case."

It's a poor attempt at a joke, or maybe it's because his tone is too self-deprecating. He bites his lip and turns the other way.

"Anyway, I should go," he mumbles. "I'm probably making this really awkward for you. I'm sorry."

"No, Chat—"

But he's already leaping away. Her fingers close around nothing and her hand drops back to her side. Soon, his silhouette has faded into the night.

She doesn't move. Her legs refuse to. So she stands there, huddled against the cold, still trying to process everything that just happened: his confession, the almost kiss. Her fingertips brush her lips and a choked little laugh escapes her.

This silly cat. He fell for her twice and doesn't even know it.

"Marinette?" Tikki pops her head up from the skylight. "Is everything okay?"

"I … I don't know," Marinette says honestly.

There are so many emotions whirring inside her. She can appreciate now why Chat had looked torn when she'd asked about Ladybug. Tonight, he'd bared his heart to her. In doing so, however, he'd also bared hers, or at least the part she'd desperately tried to deny.

"Chat broke up with me," she says. "I mean as much as you can break up with someone who's your fake girlfriend. I think he thought it wouldn't be fair on either of us to continue."

"What do you mean?"

"He likes me, Tikki. Really likes me. But he thinks I was just pretending."

"Were you?"

Marinette glances back to where she had last seen him. "No. No, I wasn't."

Chapter Text

Adrien collapses on his bed with a sigh, hitting the pillow face-first. His phone buzzes. He barely twitches. The phone buzzes again, and again. It buzzes so much that it's like a vibrating little bee screaming, Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!

"You going to answer that?" Plagg eventually asks.

Adrien shakes his head, face still mushed into the pillow.

"You sure? Because it looks like bakery girl is—"

"Marinette!" Adrien surges up and fumbles for his phone, almost knocking it off the bed. "Why didn't you tell me she was the one trying to contact me?"

"I just did."

Adrien ignores this and brings up the thread he shares with her as Chat Noir.

Princess: Chat?

Princess: Chat please answer

Princess: We really need to talk.

Princess: CHAT!

2 missed calls from Princess

Princess: Okay, if you don't feel like talking to me right now, that's fine. I know it

Princess: can't have been easy to be honest with me earlier. and maybe you want some spance

Princess: *space

Princess: Just promise you won't do anything to let the public know we're not dating now, okay? I need to talk to you first.

Princess: Chat?

Princess: Please respond when you can

Princess: Goodnight

He hits the call button, his heart thumping. It's a few seconds before she picks up.

"Chat?"

"Um, hi," he says sheepishly. "Sorry. I didn't have my phone on me."

There is no way he's going to admit he was too busy moping into his pillow. Some things should not be shared.

He clears his throat. "So, um, you wanted to talk?"

"I …"

The silence drags.

"Marinette?"

"Sorry, this is harder than I thought."

He bites his lip. "Do you … do you want me to come over again?"

"No!"

He blinks.

"Sorry," she says. "That came out wrong. It's just I, um, might lose my courage if I have to face you in person. And I really, really need to say this. You were honest with me and I … I think I owe it to you to be honest with you."

His heart thumps faster, but his stomach is a mess of wriggling snakes and knots. "Okay."

Silence.

A few creases form on his brow. Should he give her a prompt? It tends to help her when she freezes up around him when he's sans mask. Maybe that's what's happening now. (He wishes he could see her, but video chatting would be a bad, bad idea.)

"Um," he says, "you said I shouldn't tell anyone that we're not dating anymore …"

"Right."

More silence.

He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, pulls the phone away to check the call is still connected. (It is.) "Marinette, you're killing me here with the suspe—"

"I like you!"

His jaw drops and he almost loses his grip on the phone. "What?"

"I like you. A lot."

He shifts to sit cross-legged on his bed, leaning forward as if doing so can somehow help him to hear her better. All the wriggles and knots in his stomach are replaced by fluttering butterfly wings. "Y-you do?"

"Yeah." She lets out a shaky laugh. "I, um, I think I've liked you for a while."

"Wow. I … wow." He sits back, unable to stop the giddy smile from stretching across his face. "I didn't think you did. I thought you were just really good at acting."

Another laugh. "I'm terrible at acting."

His cheeks hurt. He needs to stop smiling, but he can't, and it feels like he might start floating up to the ceiling any moment.

She likes him. She actually likes him.

"But, Chat …"

Oh no. There's a but.

"I also like someone else."

All the breath whooshes from his lungs. "Oh."

He doesn't know what else to say. It's not like he can get upset when he basically told her the same thing. Plus, he knows how confusing it is to have a divided heart. Even now, a part of him is tugged towards Ladybug, yearning to be close to her.

"You, um, like him a lot?" he asks.

"Yeah." Her voice sounds a bit strained, though the overall tone is wistful. "Yeah, I do."

"Does he … does he like you?"

"I don't know. Sometimes I think he might, but … I don't know. He's never said anything."

He flops onto his back, gazing up at the ceiling. "Huh."

"I'm sorry. I just felt like I had to be honest, especially since you were with me."

"No, it's fine. I'm glad you told me. It's just …"

"What?"

His lips twitch. "We're quite the pair, aren't we?"

"You mean both hopeless cases?"

"Pretty much."

They both go quiet. He wonders if she's also on her bed, looking at the stars through the skylight. Or maybe she's seated at her desk, designs and sewing projects scattered all around her. It seems more like her to try to distract herself before deciding to message him. Plus, she's a notorious night owl.

He breathes out a sigh. "What do you want to do?"

"Hrm?"

"About us."

She falls silent. This time he waits.

"I don't know," she admits. "I know I like you, but …"

"You're not sure if you're ready to give up on the other boy."

"Is that terrible of me?"

"No." He rolls over, shifting the phone to his other ear. "I get it. I really do. I mean I've been in love with Ladybug for over a year. It's … hard to move on."

Especially since Ladybug has been more affectionate of late.

"Yeah," she says with a small sigh. "It is hard."

They go quiet again.

He trails his finger along the pillow, imagining Marinette's face, wishing she was here. That he was there. Maybe if he could hold her in his arms and kiss her the way his thumping hearts whispers he wants to, maybe then everything would click into place. Maybe he'd stop feeling so torn and confused.

Maybe this would all be easier.

"I really do like you," he murmurs.

"I really like you too."

His lips curve and the giddy lightness fills him once more. (Because whatever he feels for Ladybug, hearing Marinette return his feelings is like ingesting happiness in concentrated form.) He rolls onto his back, closing his eyes as he savours her words. There's just one thing he's curious about.

"Um," he says, "can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Who's the boy?"

"Oh … it's, um, Adrien."

The phone slips from his fingers.

"Chat?"

He fumbles for the phone and presses it to his ear. "W-wait, you like Adrien? Adrien Agreste Adrien?"

"Yeah. I've, uh, actually liked him for a long time now. Like a really long time."

His eyes are huge saucers and all he can do is stare at the ceiling, his heart thumping and thumping and thumping. She likes him. She fell for him twice.

A laugh slips out of him.

"Are you—are you laughing at me, Chat Noir?"

"No, no. Of course not. I just … I wasn't expecting this. Wow."

"I can't believe you. You're totally laughing at me! I bet you think I just have some dumb celebrity crush on him."

"I don't, I swear."

She makes a huffy sound. "I'm gonna hang up."

"No, please don't. I'll be good. I promise."

Even though his mind is still reeling. She doesn't like two boys. She just likes him.

Something sinks in his stomach. Oh, but he can't tell her that. It would expose his identity, and then Ladybug and Master Fu would get mad and maybe take his miraculous from him, and he really, really doesn't want that.

He runs a hand through his hair. This is a mess. If he dates her as Chat Noir, he can't date her as Adrien. If he pursues her as Adrien, he'll only add fuel to the whole cheating rumour flames. (Not to mention would not be able to date her as Chat Noir.)

And then there's Ladybug.

A big sigh escapes him. "This really is a mess."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. I just …" Has realised he's screwed himself over with the fake dating and scandals. Has no idea how to fix any of this. "I was just thinking that, um, Adrien is my good friend and all. So, you know …"

"Oh. Right. I guess it would be a bit weird for you."

A wry smile twists his lips. She really has no idea.

Silence once more settles between them. He frowns as he listens to Plagg rummaging in the mini fridge for more cheese.

"So, uh, what did you want to do about the fake relationship?" Adrien asks. (Because this is something they still need to settle now that they're both aware the feelings are mutual between them. Plus, she did ask him to wait so they could talk first.)

"Oh, right. I thought … I mean if we ended up, you know, maybe there would be no reason to break up."

"What if you choose Adrien?"

She goes quiet.

His smile is much more resigned this time. "Told you. A mess."

She sighs. "I'm sorry I'm like this."

"Hey, I get it. Same boat, remember?"

If Ladybug asked him to be her boyfriend right now, he doesn't know if he'd be able to say no. That's the problem. That's why he and Marinette are stuck. It wouldn't be fair to date her while half his heart belongs to another. (And he's pretty sure she's hesitating to jump into a real relationship with him for the same reason, despite the fact he knows she only likes one boy.)

"Maybe we should just leave things for now," he suggests. "Try to figure things out."

"You mean pretend we're still dating?"

"It would be easier considering the public is breathing down our necks, and Ladybug and Adrien are aware the relationship is fake anyway, so …"

"You're okay with that?"

"I am if you are."

"I agree it's probably for the best," she murmurs, "but I have to ask … how were you planning to explain to the public why we broke up? We've spent all this time claiming we're still in love."

"Oh. I was just going to twist the media to sympathise with you instead. Chat Noir the incorrigible flirt is the one with the wandering eye and all. I'm sure Ladybug would have backed me up. Plus, the whole constant media attention isn't exactly fun to deal with. Everyone knows that kind of thing can put strain on a relationship."

"You really would have done that? But then everyone would be attacking you."

"I wasn't going to let them think the reason we broke up is because you did cheat on me with Adrien Agreste. I would never do that to you."

Her voice softens. "You're too nice, Chat. I can't even believe how understanding you're being. I mean I told you I'm in love with another guy, the same guy everyone thinks I've been kissing behind your back."

Ah, right. That probably does seem weird. Still …

"You seem pretty okay with the fact I'm still in love with Ladybug," he points out.

"W-well, that's because she's, uh, Ladybug and—oh, I think my mum is calling me. I have to go."

"Wait—"

"Bye, Chat."

The call goes dead.

He holds the phone away from his ear and frowns at the screen. What was all that about?

Chapter Text

"Hi," Chat says, giving an awkward wave.

Marinette stands frozen outside the bakery, one hand clutching her bag strap as if she's trying to strangle it. Her heart thumps and thumps. "Hi," she squeaks.

"Sorry." He rubs the base of his neck. "Too soon?"

"N-no." She waves her hands about. "Of course not. I just wasn't expecting …"

She trails off, not sure how to put her tangled thoughts into words. Last night they'd admitted they liked each other. Last night they'd also agreed to take some time to figure out their feelings. (Not that he knows he actually has nothing to decide. She is Ladybug, after all. But she does have to decide whether she can let go of Adrien.)

He rubs his neck again and meets her gaze with a tentative smile. "I, uh, thought I could walk you to school."

Warmth pools on her cheeks. She nods.

They're both quiet as they head down the street. His hand bumps hers, but she doesn't know if that's intentional or not. Does he want to hold her hand? Is this a hint? Should she just grab it and link their fingers?

Her heart pounds faster.

Ugh, this was so much easier when she was putting on an act. Heck, she kissed him on the lips with no hesitation. It's silly to freak out over holding his hand. Or maybe it's because it feels like anything she does now will have more weight. Maybe that's why he's hesitating as well.

If they hold hands, it won't be for an audience. It'll be because they want to.

"So," he says.

Her gaze darts to his in question.

"You're being kinda quiet."

"I could say the same to you," she points out.

He looks off to the side, but that doesn't hide the rosy colour that blooms on his cheeks. "I was just thinking about some things."

"Like what?"

His pinky brushes hers, shyly linking. It's a soft question. Easy to say no, easy to pull back. Their eyes meet. Her pulse stutters and, with pink spilling across her face, she slips her hand in his. The cool metal of his ring presses against her skin. He squeezes her hand ever so gently. She ducks her head, biting back a smile.

Oh. He really had wanted to hold her hand.

The school gates come into view far too soon. They slow to a halt, hands still joined. Other students mill about around them.

"Well," he says, "you've arrived safe and sound."

It's the kind of thing he would have tossed at her with a wink and an elaborate bow. Now, his smile is soft and his voice even softer. Flutters stir in the pit of her stomach. Her blush burns.

"I don't think you can claim credit for that," she says, wanting to be bold, to reassert some sense of normalcy between them, but her voice comes out a bit hushed. "I do live only just down the street."

"True."

He steps closer. Her pulse jumps and starts a drumming beat.

"I have to admit," he murmurs, brushing his thumb against the back of her hand. "I kinda wish you lived farther away."

"W-well, I happen to like living this close."

"Because you always sleep in?"

Her jaw drops. "Rude. I don't sleep in that much."

He laughs and raises their joined hands to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her palm. The way he looks at her over her hand is a shock of heat and aching sweetness. She swallows, breath catching in her throat.

"I'm just teasing, little owl."

"Little owl?" Her lips purse. "Don't tell me that's a new nickname."

"I think it suits you."

She juts her chin, trying to look unimpressed. It's hard to maintain the expression when he's giving her a smile that can melt icebergs and his eyes gleam playfully. (On that note, where did all his shy awkwardness from earlier go? This is not good for her heart.)

He leans down and kisses her cheek. "I have to go, but I'll message you later, 'kay?"

The heat emanating from her face spreads down her neck and to the tip of her ears. (Because she can feel his breath on her skin, and he's so, so close, and his voice is low like a caress of silk shivering through her.)

"O-okay," she squeaks. "That'll gee brate. I mean be great."

His eyes twinkle with a secret sort of amusement. He cups her face with one hand, stroking his thumb against her overheated cheek. Then he pulls back. She almost follows, not ready to lose his touch just yet.

"Bye, Marinette," he says.

"Buh, uh, b-beh …"

She gives up on getting the word out and instead waves as he vaults away.

Maybe it was a mistake to hold his hand. She clearly gave him too much encouragement if he was able to find the courage to turn on the charm like that.

oOo

"Girl, what happened to you?" Alya asks. "You're really red."

Marinette presses her hands to her hot cheeks. "A sneaky cat, that's what."

"Huh?"

She shakes her head and opens her locker. "Nothing."

It takes her an embarrassingly long time to get her things sorted for class. Her thoughts keep straying like a dazed bird, returning to Chat—the way he held her hand, kissed her cheek, even the teasing way he called her little owl. (Not cute! Definitely not cute!) In fact, Alya has to grab her shoulders and steer her into the classroom.

"You need me to help you sit down too?" Alya teases.

Marinette blushes and sinks onto her chair. "Sorry. I just have a lot on my mind today."

"Or someone?"

Fresh waves of heat spill over her cheeks.

"Ooh, I was right," Alya says with a grin.

Adrien enters the classroom with Nino and greets them warmly. The distraction is a welcome one, even though it does mean Marinette now has to converse with the other boy she likes. Fortunately, she doesn't stutter through her words. Unfortunately, his smile is still a sucker punch to her heart.

This is a mess.

She is a mess.

To make things worse, during their final class for the day, the teacher pairs Marinette and Adrien for an assignment. There was indeed a time when Marinette would have given anything to be paired with him. (Lying about a group project to get inside the Agreste mansion doesn't count.) Now, she wonders if the universe is messing with her. Just because she's supposed to be sorting out her feelings doesn't mean she wants to be alone with Adrien.

This is dangerous. This is too much for her heart.

Adrien hits her with that sunshine smile and asks her if she wants to get some study in today since he doesn't have anything scheduled after school.

"S-sounds good," she says, even as she inwardly weeps.

She is definitely not going to survive.

oOo

They end up at her house. Marinette gathers some pastries for them to share and carries the plate up to her bedroom. There, she finds Adrien sitting on her chaise in a relaxed pose she's seen so many times. Sun slips through the window, shining on his golden hair and bringing out the bright green of his eyes. His teeth flash in a smile.

She almost drops the plate.

"What?" he asks, tilting his head. "Is something wrong?"

"N-no. I just … you just reminded me of someone."

He stiffens. "Oh?"

"It's nothing." She shoves the plate on the desk. "Help yourself."

The tension eases from his shoulders. He thanks her with a smile—one of his usual, non-toothy ones—and picks up a pastry. Her heart thumps and thumps as she watches him take a bite. There's no way. It's just her imagination. It's just because they're both blond and green-eyed. Besides, she's seen Chat and Adrien together. They stood right next to each other when Adrien's bodyguard got akumatised.

There's no way they can be the same person.

It's just stupid, stupid wishful thinking.

"These are so good," he says.

She gives a strained smile. "I-I'm glad you like them. Um, should we get started on that assignment now?"

"Sure."

She takes a seat at the desk and tries to ignore the thundering drum in her chest as he moves to sit next to her. Yeah, this is not good for her heart.

oOo

Adrien checks his phone. "It's getting late."

"Do you need to go?" she asks.

He props his chin on his hand, shooting her a warm look under his lashes. "I'd rather stay here with you."

Heat spills all over her face. "O-oh?"

His eyes widen like startled moons and he bolts upright. "I, uh … I mean because your parents are so nice, and you're nice, and these pastries are really nice, and uh …" He bites his lip, spots of pink forming on his cheeks. "I'm saying nice too much, aren't I?"

A laugh is startled out of her. It's not often she's seen him flustered. "A little bit."

He runs a hand over his face. "Can you forget I said all that?"

"Hmm, I dunno. Once something's been heard, it can't be unheard."

"Marinette," he half whines, and peeps at her through his fingers. "I thought we were friends."

She presses her knuckles to her mouth. He looks utterly adorable and it takes everything in her not to lean over and ruffle his hair like she would if he were Chat. "Well, maybe I can keep it just between us," she concedes. "You know, because I'm so nice."

His lips form a pout. "I take it back. You're not nice at all."

"Too late."

"It is not too late. You never said there was a no take-backs rule."

"Uh, that's 'cause that rule is a given."

His lips curve and he once more rests his chin against his palm, giving her such a soft look that all she can do is blink. Her stomach flutters and flutters.

She coughs to clear her throat and looks the other way. "U-um, anyway, i-if you—"

"Don't," he murmurs, reaching across to clasp her hand. The cool kiss of metal shocks her skin. "Don't go shy on me again."

Her heart stutters. "W-what?"

Now it's his turn to blink. He lets go of her hand. "Nothing. I, um … I'm sorry. That was out of line."

She sits very still, her heart pounding.

Adrien shoots to his feet. "I should message my driver. Get him to come pick me up."

"Right."

He turns his attention to his phone. She stands up but barely takes a step before her toe catches on something. Her world tilts. Her stomach lurches. There's a clunk, but it's not her. Adrien's chest stops her fall. His hand holds her waist and the other grips her upper arm, keeping her steady.

Their eyes meet.

"That was close," he says.

Warmth rushes over her cheeks. "Y-yeah."

"You okay?"

"I-I'm fine, but I think you dropped your phone."

"I know."

He still hasn't let her go. She swallows against the sudden dryness in her mouth. There's something about the way he looks at her that makes her feel hot all over, almost feverish. She moistens her lips. His gaze follows the movement.

All the breath disappears from her lungs.

"Marinette," he breathes.

"Y-yes?"

His hand glides up her arm, moving to cup her face. Her eyes widen and her heart doubles its rhythm. Then he's leaning in, slow enough to leave no room for misinterpretation. Their breath intermingles. She can stop him, she can pull away. His hold is light and his gaze flickers to hers, yearning but questioning.

She is so, so confused, but even so her heart sings and sings. This is what she wants. What she has always wanted.

Her eyelashes flutter shut and she leans up on her tiptoes.

Their lips touch, sweet and lingering. It's like stepping onto clouds. Her body has never felt so light, floating up, up, up. But his touch keeps her anchored. Warm on her waist—even warmer on her face and neck. (Except for the little presses of metal that are so, so familiar, even if she can't place why.)

He dares to kiss her again, slanting his lips against hers in a clumsy caress that leaves a trail of tingles. Her pulse stutters. No fictional romance has prepared her for these sensations. Not for the thundering song in her ears, for the heat that uncurls within her like shy strings, and definitely not for the instinct that has her chase his lips, wanting to feel more of that tingling friction. More of him.

Their lips brush a third time, a fourth, a fifth.

Her fingers curl into his shirt. His arm wraps around her waist, holding her closer.

Sirens go off.

They both spring apart at the jarring sound, cheeks flushed and eyes wide.

"Akuma," he says a bit breathlessly.

She nods. "S-sounds like it."

He bites his lip. (Holy heck, she just kissed those lips. Really, really kissed.) "I-I, um, I'm sorry but I have to go," he says. "My ride will be here soon and, uh …"

"Don't you think you'll be safer if you stay here until the akuma is dealt with?"

She wants to clamp her hands over her mouth. Why did she say that? Even if it's true, she needs to leave so she can fight as Ladybug. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Now she'll have to come up with some ridiculous excuse or lock herself in the bathroom, and then he'll think she has digestive troubles or—

"Actually," Adrien says, rubbing the base of his neck, "my father, uh, prefers me to be home during akuma attacks or at least be with my bodyguard, so …"

"Oh, of course." She nods emphatically, her smile extra bright. "That makes sense. Forget what I said. You should probably hurry. Here, I'll get your bag for you."

There's an awkward pause as she holds the bag out to him. His head tilts and his gaze takes on an edge of curiosity. (Oh no, is she being too chirpy about him leaving? Then again, he's the one who wants to hurry off after they just kissed, overprotective father or not. Maybe she should give him the weird looks.)

"Thanks," he says.

His hand brushes hers as he accepts the bag. The added touch of metal has her glance down and she blinks at the band of silver on his ring finger. It's a plain ring, no adornment at all. Now that she thinks about it, he's always wearing it. There's only one time she's seen him without the ring: the day of the photoshoot. He'd been so agitated then, rubbing the bare skin where the ring normally rested and—

"Well," he says, picking his phone up off the floor and pocketing it. He hesitates, his face a bit rosy, before he steps forward and kisses her cheek. "I'll call you later, okay? Promise."

Her heart thumps and thumps, but there's an odd sense of déjà vu as well. (She can even smell the faint mustiness of cheese.)

"Bye, Marinette," he says.

"B-bye."

Chapter Text

The akuma is an easy one to deal with, which is a good thing. Adrien is distracted. Even Ladybug seems a bit off her game. Both make rookie mistakes. Both probably would be mincemeat were it not for the fact Cabbaginator is just a giant cabbage flapping around and shooting smelly leaves at them. (Seriously, who loves cabbages so much that they get akumatised over it?)

Once the fight is over and everything has been reset, Adrien shuffles towards her, ears and tail drooping. His gaze doesn't quite meet hers.

"Hey," he mumbles. "Can we talk?"

She bites her lip.

His ring beeps.

They both glance down. It's a shock when she reaches for his hand, raising it closer to her face. He freezes. Even his breath gets lost in his throat. She gently skims her fingertip over the cat paw on his ring. His gaze flickers to her face. No one touches his miraculous, not unless they're trying to steal it. But he trusts her. So he doesn't pull away but instead tilts his head, searching her expression. Her entire focus is on his ring.

"What?" he asks. "Is something wrong?"

"My earrings are plain when I'm not transformed." Her voice is as hushed as the gentlest of wind. "No spots or anything."

His heartbeat trips over itself. This is not a conversation he expected them to have tonight. "Oh?"

She traces the glowing paw, even as the ring gives another beep and a piece of green fades away. "What about your ring?"

"Y-yeah. Plain."

Her hand tightens around his. "But still black?"

"Why all the questions?"

She flinches and drops his hand. "Nothing. I just …"

Another beep. Her earrings join in.

"I need to recharge," he says, "but can we meet back here? Do you have something to feed Tikki?"

"Yeah. Yeah, of course." She pulls out her yoyo. "I'll see you soon."

He doesn't waste time to watch her swing off. Right now, he needs to find a place to hide so he can detransform.

oOo

"Ladybug is acting weird," Adrien says, crouched behind a dumpster. (Not his first choice for a hiding place, but it was the only thing close.)

Plagg chews on a giant mouthful of cheese. "You're both weird if you ask me."

"Helpful."

"Just saying it like it is, kid."

Adrien ignores this comment and taps his fingers against his thigh. If he didn't know any better, he'd say Ladybug was fishing. But she's the one who's always insisted they can't share their identities with each other. Why would she want to know about his ring and give herself more chances to figure him out?

Ah, whatever. There's no point trying to unravel this now. He knows what he has to do.

"Plagg, transform me!"

oOo

Ladybug drops down onto the rooftop. She tucks her yoyo away and joins him near the edge, letting her feet dangle over the side. "You wanted to talk?"

He sneaks a glance at her from under his lashes. Her body is angled towards him, but the way she bites her lip is all nervous tension and hesitance. His stomach twists. She looks so much like Marinette. Same dark hair, same blue eyes, same expressions. It's something he's tried not to dwell on. After all, the miraculous magic can change a person's appearance, and guilt has always been quick to sting him away from seeing too many similarities between them. Still, of late he's found himself hoping …

He shakes his head, banishing the thought. It would be wrong to think about such things now. For his sake, for all of theirs, he has to stop feeding that fantasy.

"I kissed Marinette," he says.

"Er, I know. There's pictures of you two kissing on some picnic date all over the internet."

He hugs his knee to his chest and stares out at the inky sky. "No, I mean I kissed her for real. No audience. No show for the public. We were alone and I just … wanted to."

"W-what?"

There's an odd breathlessness to her voice, like she's struggling to make words.

He rests his cheek on his knee and shoots her a sheepish glance. "Sorry. You're probably wondering why I'm telling you this. It's just … I know you've always said you don't feel that way about me, but I really did love you. Still do, if I'm being honest. You're kind of unforgettable, my lady."

"Chat …"

He looks back towards the sky. "But, thanks to Marinette, I think I can move on."

Admittedly, not in the way he expected. Kissing her out of the suit had been an impulsive, stupid move, but he can't take it back. He just has to roll with it. (He assumes Marinette will choose his civilian self, leaving Chat Noir to pretend to nurse a bruised heart for a while. Or maybe she'll surprise him. Regardless, he can't keep clinging to Ladybug, no matter how much it pains him to let his first love go. It's not fair on any of them.)

"I don't know if she'll have me," he continues, because he doesn't have a choice but to misdirect a little if he wants to protect his identity. "I kind of screwed things up today, but either way I thought you should know. You're still my partner and—"

"Chat." Ladybug grabs his arm.

He blinks at the tight grip and meets her eyes. Wide blue, almost frantic in expression. "Ladybug?"

Her fingers dig into his leather suit. "When did you kiss Marinette?"

"Uh, today."

"After school, right? In her bedroom?"

His brow creases. "How did you kn—"

She flings her arms around him, almost knocking them both over. He freezes, not quite sure what's going on.

Not quite daring to hope.

"Did I miss something?" he asks.

"Chat." She pulls back to look at him, her smile so big and bright that it makes her eyes shine like bluebell stars. "No, Adrien."

His heart stutters. "Y-you … you're …"

She nods.

His expression shifts to wonder. He cups her face with his hands, brushing his thumbs against her cheeks and the edges of her mask. Putting all the treasured pieces together. "Marinette," he breathes, and his heart sings as he gives voice to the truth it has always known. "It's you. It's really you, isn't it?"

Another nod.

He smiles and pulls her into his arms, squeezing his eyes shut as he rests his chin on her head. "I'm glad. I'm so, so glad. Marinette, my lady. I can't believe this is real. I mean I started to really hope after that phone call last night, but …"

A hiccupping laugh escapes her. "I know. I felt the same. I was so confused when you kissed me earlier, but then I noticed your ring and I realised: maybe I didn't have to choose. Maybe it had just been you all along." She holds him tighter. "Chat. Adrien."

His hands move to cradle her head and he leans in and presses his lips to hers, pouring out everything that is resounding inside him. All the joy, the sheer relief that beats through every bone, every vein, every part of his being. She matches his passion. It's like a collision of worlds—soul-shaking, overwhelming, yet so, so right.

This is how it's meant to be. How it was always meant to be.

Her hands slide up his back, slip into his hair. "I love you," she breathes into his lips.

"I love you too," he whispers, and pulls back to meet her eyes. "So much."

They kiss again and again—bruising, sweet, chasing the thrumming storm that swells and hushes between them. After all this time, there's nothing to keep them apart. No more masks, no more walls, no more secrets.

He gives her one last, lingering kiss before he nuzzles her forehead like an affectionate cat. "I'm really, really happy you found me."

She bumps her head to his, smiling as she holds him close. "Me too, kitty. Me too."

Chapter Text

Marinette spins around in her room, hugging her arms to herself. "I still can't believe it, Tikki. Adrien is Chat Noir, and he loves me! He really loves me!" She sighs happily and falls back onto her bed. "This is the most perfect thing that could ever happen."

Tikki laughs and floats over to land on the cat pillow. "I'm happy for you, Marinette."

A pout. "So you say, but don't think I've forgotten that you knew all this time and didn't tell me. Not even when I was all torn because I thought I liked both Chat and Adrien."

"I'm sorry. I wish I could have said something, but it's against the rules for kwamis to expose miraculous bearers to each other like that. I had to protect Adrien's identity. Even if I had tried to tell you his name, the magic would have stopped me."

A small sigh. "I know."

Though it is a little humiliating. All this time, Tikki has been listening to her go on and on about how in love with Adrien she is and—

"Oh my gosh," Marinette breathes in horror, her eyes widening as she clutches her hair.

Tikki blinks. "What?"

"I rejected Chat so many times."

Another blink.

"That was Adrien, Tikki! I rejected Adrien so many times!"

A wail escapes Marinette and she hugs her pillow to her chest, curling around it and rolling back and forth with her eyes squeezed shut. What must he think of that? Of her? Does he find it funny? Does he secretly resent her?

"Tikki!" She shoots up, still hugging the pillow. "What if he remembers how I rejected him all those times and changes his mind about me? What if—"

"Marinette."

"—he breaks up with me before we can even start officially dating and—"

"Marinette!"

Marinette closes her mouth.

"Breathe," Tikki orders.

Marinette does so. The tension slowly eases out of her shoulders and her fingers unclench from the pillow. Even her racing, jumble of thoughts becomes more of a stuttering dash than an overcrowded train about to get wrecked.

"You don't need to worry," Tikki says, giving her a fond pat on her head. "Adrien loves you. He isn't going to change his mind."

"You really think so?"

"He did fall for you twice."

Marinette smiles softly to herself. "He did, didn't he?"

"Very much so." Tikki's brow creases. "Though I do wonder how you plan to go about dating him. Things have got quite messy for you two."

"That's what we're going to discuss when he comes back here tonight."

Much as it would have been nice to cuddle and talk with Adrien on that rooftop, he'd had to go meet with his driver and go home before his absence got too suspicious. The last thing they needed was more complications.

"Don't worry," Marinette says, "we're being careful. We know not to do anything that will compromise our superhero identities."

Tikki smiles. "I know. I trust you two."

oOo

The soft knock on the skylight has Marinette's heart skipping and thumping. She opens it for Adrien and is soon pulled into a hug.

"I missed you," he breathes.

"Silly, it hasn't been that long."

Though she missed him as well and is just as happy to stay in his arms.

He lets his transformation drop, allowing Plagg to emerge from the ring. The little cat kwami sniffs the air, ears twitching.

"I smell cheese," Plagg says.

Tikki rolls her eyes. "Of course that's the first thing you say."

"Priorities, Sugarcube. I know mine."

Marinette giggles and points towards her work table. "I left some on my desk for you. Help yourself."

"Ohh, I like this one." Plagg taps Adrien on the arm. "You better be good to her, kid. She's a keeper."

"I already know that, Plagg."

Marinette's face heats all over. She ducks her head, biting back a smile. Even after the kisses and confessions, having Adrien look at her with such unabashed love still fills her with shy butterflies.

"Well then," Tikki says. "We'll give you some privacy so you can talk."

The two kwamis fly off to the desk, leaving Marinette and Adrien alone. Her face is still hot as she sits on the edge of the bed. For whatever reason, it feels bolder to invite him to join her now that they've kissed and are aware of their feelings. Maybe that's why she stammers a little when she tells him he can sit down.

His cheeks dust with pink and he takes the spot next to her, letting his hands rest loosely on his lap. Her heart thumps. They sneak glances at each other from under their lashes. Then the red and black spotted socks on his feet catch her eye.

"Adrien Agreste, are you wearing Ladybug socks?"

He blinks and glances down at his feet, wiggling his toes. "Uh, yeah."

A grin peeps out. "I didn't realise you were such a fan."

"Oh, I'm a big fan."

"Really?"

He leans in closer. "Yeah. She's kind of amazing."

Marinette's heart thumps faster. This is the part where she would normally push him back by his nose, but she doesn't have to now. Their eyes meet. Their breath intermingles. Then she leans up and kisses him. It's sweet and chaste, the kind of kiss that doesn't demand much. Still, the way he smiles against her lips makes her feel warm all the way to her toes.

She pulls back, her cheeks rosy but a twinkle gleams in her eyes. "You know, I've always thought Chat Noir is pretty amazing as well."

"That so?"

"Uh huh."

His breath ghosts over her lips. "I'll be sure to pass that on to him."

They kiss again, soft and lingering. Her pulse thrums. At this rate, they're not going to get any serious talking done.

"Okay," she murmurs. "We should probably try to focus now."

He hums in agreement and sits back to give her more space. The loss of warmth is like a shock of cold air—unwelcome, unsatisfying. Instinct has her scooch closer and curl into his side. His eyebrow quirks, but he wraps his arms around her all the same.

"I thought you wanted to focus," he teases.

"We can still talk like this."

"Hey, I'm not complaining." Something brushes her hair, maybe his lips. "I like being with you like this."

Warmth spills on her cheeks. There he goes with that butterfly-stirring sincerity again.

"I like being with you like this, too," she says softly.

He rests his chin on her head as she snuggles more into his chest. It really is nice. Simple. He doesn't demand anything more, and she is more than content to cuddle.

But there are still things they need to discuss.

"So," she says, tracing her fingertip against the soft fabric of his hoodie, "what should we do about … well, us? How do we make this work?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure what the best option is at this point. I could just keep dating you as Chat Noir, but …"

"It'll be hard."

"Way too hard," he agrees, giving her a small squeeze. "You are too cute for your own good. I mean having to be with you every day at school but not be able to act like your boyfriend? Utter torment."

She laughs and gives him an obligatory little shove, but her heart still speeds up and her blush ripens to plum. It only sounds like he's half joking.

"But then there's all the rumours," he says in a more subdued tone. "If I end things with you as Chat Noir so I can date you as Adrien, people will just get the wrong idea about us. I don't want to hurt your reputation any further."

"I could handle it if it came to that."

He pulls back to meet her eyes, still keeping his arms loosely around her. "You shouldn't have to."

She frowns and plays with one of the drawstrings dangling from his hood.

"I just … all of this could be so simple," he mutters. "We could date as Adrien and Marinette, and then Ladybug and Chat Noir could date. We could be with each other as we want without putting our identities at risk. Except I asked you to be my fake girlfriend, and then I got you into those scandals and—"

"It's not your fault."

"It is, though. Who dragged you into the closet at school? Me. Who almost kissed you at that photoshoot? Me. Who couldn't handle their fans and—"

"Adrien." She places her hand on his cheek. "I would do it all again if you asked me."

His eyes widen.

"Besides, it's because of all those things that we were able to find each other."

One corner of his mouth twitches upwards, but then his brow creases and his mouth droops again. "I just wish there was a way for us to be together without all these complications. A way to fix everything."

"If there's one thing I've learnt since becoming Ladybug, it's that you can't fix everything." She runs her thumb across his cheek. "But that's okay. We can make this work."

His frown deepens.

"What?" she says. "You don't think we can?"

"No, I do. Of course I do. I'm willing to be with you in whatever way I can. I just …"

"What?"

"I really wanted to make things right for you. I don't like it that horrible articles still get written about you. Half my fans hate you. I mean they get akumatised and come after you."

"They come after you too. Often worse than they come for me."

He waves off this point as if it's just a given and doesn't matter. Her brow furrows while he continues to list ways she is being inconvenienced because of him, the media, and his fans.

"Adrien," she says, cutting him off. "You know that you don't have to put up with the way your fans treat you, right?"

He blinks. "What?"

"That girl, the one who got akumatised into Heartbinder, she made you really uncomfortable, didn't she?"

His gaze shifts to the side and he lets his arms fall from around her waist.

"You can be honest," she says gently.

"I …" He bites his lip, gives a jerky shrug. "Yeah, I guess she made me uncomfortable."

"You guess?"

His shoulders hunch. "Fine, she made me really uncomfortable. I was glad to get away from her."

"You don't see that as a problem?"

"Of course I'd rather not deal with people like that, but it's not like there's anything I can do about it. It's just part of having fans." He lowers his gaze and clutches his upper arm. "Sometimes … sometimes they don't always understand they're being too forward or … well, you know."

Marinette's stomach sinks. As she thought, he expects this kind of behaviour from people and even tries to rationalise it. No wonder he's never said anything to Chloe or Lila when they've overstepped his physical boundaries. No wonder he wanted to use a fake girlfriend as a deterrent.

He forces a smile. "Anyway, that's why Father gave me a bodyguard, or at least part of it. It's too bad we have to be our own bodyguards when we're superheroes, huh?"

"Adrien …"

His smile turns more strained. "What?"

She bites back a sigh. It's obvious the conversation is making him tense, obvious that he wants to change the subject, but she can't let it go. Not this time.

"You know," she says slowly, choosing her words with care, "I agreed to be your fake girlfriend because you seemed genuinely bothered by the attention some of your fans were giving you. But back then I didn't know how bad it was for you. I thought they just, I dunno, asked you to be their boyfriend all the time or something. Maybe made up lies like Lila did. I didn't know they were trying to force themselves on you."

He bites his lip, once more avoiding her gaze. "It's really not … I mean I don't like it when they get too close to me, but … but what am I supposed to do? I'd just upset them if I pushed them away or—"

"So?"

A smile is startled out of him. "You don't mean that."

"I do. Who cares if you upset them? They're upsetting you."

He clutches his arm again, his shoulders creeping up to his ears.

"Adrien." She places her hand over his. "You told me I shouldn't have to put up with the hate from your fans, but you shouldn't have to put up with this either. Their behaviour is not okay."

"I just … I don't want to make things worse."

"Who says you will?"

He gives another jerky shrug. "I don't know. They're my fans. Shouldn't … shouldn't I try to be nice to them? I mean what if they turn on me, or Hawkmoth starts to use them against us, or—"

"Then we'll deal with that together." She takes his face in her hands and guides him into meeting her eyes. "Or did you forget?"

"Forget what?"

"We're a team." She boops his nose with her finger. "You and me against the world, remember?"

His eyes widen before a soft smile is tugged out of him. He wraps his arms around her and buries his face into the nook between her neck and shoulder. "Thank you."

She holds him close, running her hand along his back in a soothing gesture. "You don't need to thank me. I'll always be here for you, kitty. Always."

oOo

They cuddle for a long time, talking softly about what to do next. Both agree that they want to be able to date each other as civilians, but will keep things professional between Ladybug and Chat Noir for now—at least as far as the public will know. As for the rumours and potential backlash, Adrien says he might have an idea to lessen that, or at least redirect the public's attention.

"How?" she says.

"I can come clean. Say it was a fake relationship from the beginning."

"You want to tell them the truth?"

"It'll be awkward, but it'd also be kind of a relief to stop lying." He rubs the base of his neck, shoots her a shy look from under his lashes. "And I … I think want to be more honest with my fans."

"Are you sure?"

He seemed so tense earlier. She doesn't want him to feel like he has to do this for her or because she suggested he should protect his boundaries more.

"Honestly, just the thought of it makes me nervous," he admits, "but if you're there with me, I think I can do it. I at least want to try."

Her lips curve and she nestles back into him. "If that's what you want, Adrien."

"It is."

"Then of course I'll support you."

Chapter Text

Adrien is quiet as he cuddles with Marinette on her bed. She's tucked against his side, her head resting on his chest. One of his hands plays with her loose hair, gentle and rhythmic. It has to be well past midnight by now. He should probably go home, but …

"Hey, Marinette?" he says tentatively.

"Yeah?"

"I … there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

She nuzzles sleepily into his hoodie. "What's that?"

"You know all those times I, um, flirted with you when you were Ladybug and I was Chat Noir. I didn't … I didn't make you uncomfortable, did I?"

She sits up, meeting his eyes. "Oh, kitty, no."

"You sure?"

It's something he has to double-check. His behaviour had seemed harmless to him at fourteen. (After all, it's what all his favourite heroes did to show interest in the girls they liked.) But now his stomach just wriggles in sinking knots when he thinks about some of his attempts to get a kiss out of her, especially after all his experiences with his fans. He hates to think he ever put her through the same skin-crawling discomfort.

"Sometimes it was annoying," she admits. "I didn't like it when you distracted me during an akuma attack, and sometimes I did wish you'd get the hint that I wasn't going to date you. Having to reject you all those times wasn't exactly fun."

He winces. "Sorry."

"It's okay. Turns out I was rejecting you for you anyway, so …"

"But you didn't know that then." He lowers his gaze. "I'm sorry. I was an idiot. I should have listened to you more."

"It really is okay, Adrien. I've always trusted you. Even if you were a bit over the top at times, you never made me feel like you wouldn't back off if I asked you to."

"You're not just saying that to make me feel better?"

She smooths back his hair. "Definitely not."

He lets out a relieved breath.

"Plus, I would have totally decked you had you crossed the line."

A laugh is startled out of him. "I can believe that."

She smiles and leans in, pausing when their lips are almost touching. "Thank you for apologising, though. It means a lot."

He lets her initiate the kiss—light and undemanding. Then they go back to cuddling, legs tangled together and their arms wrapped loosely around each other. It's everything he's ever wanted. All the tension melts out of him. Still, when his eyelids start to droop, he murmurs that he has to go.

"Just a bit longer," she says.

"Not sure that's a good idea. No more accidental sleepovers, remember?"

Pink dusts her cheeks. "Fine."

He smiles and gives her one last kiss. "I'll see you tomorrow."

oOo

After getting dropped off at school, Adrien suits up as Chat Noir and goes to Marinette's house. Today is the day they'll break the news about the fake relationship to the public, but he figures he owes it to Marinette's parents to let them know first. They've been so kind to him.

"Come sit down," Sabine says, pressing a croissant into his hand as she guides him to a chair. "Marinette should be down soon."

He forces a smile. "G-great."

Tom gives him a hearty pat on the back in greeting. Both her parents are all smiles and questions, but their kindness is almost suffocating now. Adrien's heart sinks and flutters like a small bird trying to stay aloft. His stomach is a wriggly mess. It's like sitting on a time bomb. Any second the truth is going to have to come out and all the warmth being directed his way will be snatched from him.

He squirms on the chair, shoots glances at the stairs, bites his lip.

"Chat Noir," Sabine says. "Are you okay?"

He blinks. "I, um, o-of course. Why would you think I'm not?"

Tom nods at the croissant in his hand. "You'd normally be on your second one by now."

"Oh." Adrien swallows. It feels like his tongue has turned to cardboard. "I … I'm not really hungry. Sorry."

Or should that be a thank you? His ability to make coherent thoughts is slipping from him like water through cupped hands.

Tom and Sabine exchange a glance before continuing to fuss over him, apparently not satisfied with his answer. (Not that he can blame them. He probably does look more like a cringing stray waiting to be chased out the door than the smiling superhero they normally see.)

"Is everything okay with you and Marinette?" Sabine asks. "I know all those silly rumours have been going around and—"

"I'm not really dating your daughter."

Silence. The orange juice Tom is pouring sloshes over the cup, spilling onto the bench.

"Come again?" Tom says.

Adrien winces and lowers his head, shoulders hunching. He'd hoped to do this with Marinette at his side, but it's too late now. In a halting voice, he explains that he and Marinette were only fake dating, along with why. The silence that follows makes his heart thump and thump. He can't bring himself to look up at their expressions, but it's impossible not to hear the soft footsteps that approach. (He hopes Tom and Sabine don't notice his flinch.)

"Oh, honey," Sabine murmurs.

Arms come around him. He stiffens from head to toe, too shocked to do anything else. Then a big hand squeezes his shoulder.

"It's alright, son," Tom says. "We're not mad you lied to us."

That's all it takes. Adrien's eyes prickle and he returns the embrace tightly, swallowing against the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry," he chokes out. "I didn't mean to cause so much trouble."

Sabine strokes his back and offers soothing reassurances. Then Tom pulls them both into a hug—not the lift-them-off-the-floor kind, but more a steadying outer layer of warmth. Combined, it opens the floodgates a little more. (Her parents are always so affectionate, and right now that makes Adrien feel like a starved plant who's been offered sunshine and water.)

"Uh, did I miss something?" Marinette says.

Adrien pulls back from her parents. She stands at the bottom of staircase, eyebrows raised slightly as she glances between them.

"I told them," he explains.

Her expression softens. "Oh."

She comes over and joins the hug. Their eyes meet and she gives him a little smile as if to say, See, it wasn't so bad, was it?

He leans his head against hers and closes his eyes. Yeah, it wasn't so bad. He just hopes he'll be as lucky with the rest of the public.

oOo

"You're breaking up?" Alya exclaims.

Marinette makes shushing gestures while shooting a nervous glance at the other people in the classroom. "Why are you so surprised?" she says in a hushed voice. "You know we were never actually dating."

"That doesn't mean I expected you and Chat Noir to break up." Alya's gaze shifts to Adrien, who (along with Nino) is doing a poor attempt of pretending that he's not listening to the conversation. "Did you do something, Buttercup?"

A blink. "Um …"

"No, Alya," Marinette says, grasping her arm. "Just listen."

The situation is explained.

Alya's brow furrows. "Oh, wow," she says in a subdued tone. "Yeah, of course I'll do an interview with Chat Noir and post it on the Ladyblog if that's what he wants. The three of us can meet after school and—"

"Actually," Marinette says. "I won't be able to make it, but Ladybug will be there to say a few things to the fans."

Adrien meets her gaze in a silent thank you. Her lips curve slightly before she returns her attention to Alya.

That's when Adrien notices Nino is giving him the microscope stare. Sweat forms on his palms.

Not again.

oOo

Nino corners him the first chance he gets and drags him into a hug.

Adrien freezes. "Uh, Nino?"

"What you're doing is brave, bro. I know it can't be easy to speak up about this, but know I'll always be here and have your back."

"Yeah, I'm still lost."

Nino pulls back to meet his gaze. "The crazy fans, dude. I mean you have some crazy fans just being you, but those Chat—"

Woah, woah.

"Did you forget?" Adrien says, unable to stop the edge of panic from bleeding into his voice. "I'm not Chat Noir."

"Right. Well, if you were, I'd totally have your back."

The sentiment is nice. Adrien can't deny he's touched, but right now he really doesn't need Nino to keep digging up those suspicions of his. (Considering this is the third time, there's no way Adrien can hide this from Marinette any longer. What a way to start their new relationship.)

"Thanks, I guess," Adrien mutters.

"No problem."

They continue down the hallway.

"Oh," Nino says, slowing to a halt. "I do have one question."

"What?"

"You and Marinette are going to become a thing now, right?"

Warmth spills over Adrien's cheeks. "W-what? Why would you—"

"C'mon, bro, we've been over this. I'm not blind and now she's officially single. Just tell me yes or no. I've got ten euros riding on this."

Adrien blinks. "Wait, what?"

"Bet with Kim. He thought Marinette would end up with Chat Noir, but I put my money on you." Nino wiggles his eyebrows. "Sooo? Will we be seeing a new couple soon?"

Adrien rubs the base of his neck, looking off to the side. "Yeah."

"Yes!" Nino punches the air. "I knew it!"

A laugh escapes Adrien, even as he makes shushing gestures. "Alright, alright. Just keep it to yourself for now. Marinette and I aren't ready to go public just yet."

"Don't worry, bro. Your secret is safe with me."

Chapter Text

Alya holds her phone up. "You ready?"

Adrien and Marinette exchange a glance. Right now they're suited up as Chat Noir and Ladybug, so the most she can do is squeeze his hand to try to smooth some of the furrows from his brow. This can't be easy for him.

"We can do this another day if you like," she says gently. "Or—"

"No." He takes a deep breath and slips his hand out from hers, straightening his shoulders as he faces Alya. "I'm ready."

Alya nods and hits the button to go live.

oOo

Adrien (or Chat Noir, as he appears to the public) doesn't falter when he says that his relationship with Marinette is fake. True, there's none of the usual playfulness or toothy grins people have come to expect from him, but that's normal. This isn't the time for jokes.

"I'm sorry for lying to all of you," he says. "I thought it would be easier to pretend to be in a relationship than say what really needed to be said, but I can't in good conscience maintain this lie any longer, not when it's causing so many problems for two of my friends. You, the fans, also deserve the truth."

He takes a small breath and goes on to explain the discomfort he's felt because of people overstepping his boundaries: the unwanted physical advances, the things people have said or made up about him.

"This whole fake relationship started because of a lie," he admits. "A girl told everyone at her school that she'd been kissing me."

"Lila Rossi, wasn't it?" Alya says. "I'm in her class and remember when she made the claim."

He hesitates, never one to jump at throwing people publicly under the bus.

"Yes," Marinette chimes in. "The girl was Lila Rossi. Chat Noir and I have saved her a few times." Not to mention fought her as Volpina and Chameleon. "We can only assume she thought making such a claim would get her more attention from her classmates, just like when she lied about being one of my good friends."

"Right," Alya says, nodding along. "But you clearly weren't happy with the lie, Chat Noir?"

He shakes his head. "I don't go around kissing people for the sake of it. I would never do that. The fact she thought she could get away with it was also really frustrating."

"So, Lila's lie was the final straw for you?" Alya asks.

"Pretty much. I just … I wanted a break. The way I saw it, people couldn't say they'd been kissing me or make inappropriate passes at me if they thought I was dating Marinette."

"Understandable," Alya says.

"But that doesn't make my behaviour okay. Two lies don't make a right. I should have been honest from the beginning, and I'm sorry I let the lie get this far out of control. I hope the people of Paris can forgive me, but I especially hope you can forgive Marinette. She was only trying to be a good friend." He bites his lip. "But I … I also hope that by sharing this, people will rethink their behaviour and remember the importance of respecting boundaries. As Chat Noir, I'm here to defend you from akumas and I will always be happy to do that. But as a person, I still need my space. Please understand that."

Alya thanks him for his honesty, then wraps up the interview with a few final comments of her own. "There," she says, placing her phone down. "All done."

He lets out a breath. "Glad that's over."

"You did great," Marinette says, and gives his shoulder a light squeeze. "I'm really proud of you."

"Thanks." He turns to Alya. "And thanks for all your help. We couldn't have done this without you. I know Marinette would say the same if she was here."

"What kind of Parisian would I be if I wasn't willing to help Paris's heroes?" A wink. "Also, it's great publicity for my blog to score an exclusive interview with Chat Noir and Ladybug."

He's startled into a laugh. "Right."

Marinette just shakes her head, a slight smile curving her lips.

Alya's voice softens. "Seriously, though. I'm glad I could be of help. You both do so much for Paris. I really hope this interview will make a difference. You deserve to be able to do your job without having fans make you uncomfortable."

He rubs the base of his neck, looking off to the side. "Thank you, Alya."

Marinette smiles and holds out her gloved fist. "Pound it?"

The three bump fists.

"Pound it!"

oOo

Marinette leans more into Adrien's chest. They're sitting on her bed, his arms looped around her waist, while she holds her phone and scrolls through comments on the Ladyblog. He rests his chin on her shoulder so he can see the screen as well.

It's been almost two weeks since the interview. As expected, responses are mixed. Many people have expressed their support for Chat Noir. Others are upset that he lied and pretended to date Marinette. Then there are the ones who think he shouldn't be complaining about the attention he gets, because he's a hero and is known for his flirtatious behaviour, blah, blah, blah …

"You're going to crack the phone if you hold it like that," he observes with a laugh.

She relaxes her grip. "I just can't believe people are blaming you for how those fans treated you. It's so unfair!"

He shrugs. "People will think what they want to think. Why should I be the exception?"

She can't be satisfied with that, but she also knows he's right. Just as there are people like her parents, Alya and Nino—the ones who will support him without question—there will always be victim-blamers, always be people who want to make excuses for poor behaviour or who don't want to listen to reason.

"It's okay," he says, hugging her closer. "Really. The main thing is that the truth is out there."

"Well, I don't like it. Those people had best hope they never need saving from an akuma, because I can't say I want to help them."

He plants a small kiss on her cheek, lips curving against her skin. "Thank you."

"Huh?"

"For being mad on my behalf, for supporting me. Having you at my side has made this so much easier."

She twists in his arms so she can face him. "You didn't think I'd leave you to deal with all of this, did you? I told you we were in this together." She places her hands on his cheeks, holding his gaze. "That isn't going to change, no matter who or what we have to go up against."

"I know." His smile widens. "You and me against the world, right?"

"That's right."

Something shifts in his expression and he leans in, resting his forehead against hers. "I love you, Marinette," he whispers.

"I love you too."

They nuzzle like affectionate cats before instinct guides her lips to his. No hesitance, no fumbling. Kissing him is like coming home. She runs her fingers through his hair and opens her mouth to him. His hands leave pulse-tingling trails up her back, along her shoulders. It's heady and addictive.

Too bad an akuma alert interrupts.

She pulls back, half sighing in resignation. "Looks like duty calls."

"Come now, my lady. There's no need to sound disappointed." His green eyes spark with a playful light and his smile can only be described as roguish. "We can always continue this later. Perks of the suit, you know. It's easy to sneak in here."

Her cheeks warm and she shoves her pillow at his face, earning a muffled laugh from him. "Just hurry up and transform."

"As you wish."

Two transformations later, and they're both slipping out through her skylight to go take on whoever has been akumatised. The usual drill for Ladybug and Chat Noir. He smiles as he vaults alongside her on his baton, and she can't help but give an answering grin.

This is how it's meant to be. How it will always be. And the best part is that she wouldn't have it any other way.