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mikauzoran · 4 years

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Marichat/Adrienette: The Rejects Club: Chapter Twenty-Five

The Rejects Club: Chapter Twenty-Five: Look

“You’ve hit snooze twice already,” Plagg reports judgmentally, scooping the phone up and moving it over to the desk so that Adrien has no choice but to get out of bed to turn the alarm off.

“But I’m so tired,” Adrien groans, hoping his kwami will miraculously have a dramatic personality shift and take pity on him.

No such luck.

Plagg snorts. “Whose fault is that?”

“Mine?” Adrien guesses with a sigh, kicking off the covers and going to stop the alarm.

Plagg openly guffaws at this. “You are a mess of insecurities, unmet needs, and hormones. You could be considered legally insane and, therefore, are responsible for nothing. I was talking about that girlfriend of yours. She’s got you so wound up that—”

“—Plagg?” Adrien calls in such a hesitant, small voice that Plagg stops his ribbing to look at his charge and listen.

“Kid?”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Adrien softly informs.

The mournful look in his peridot eyes says it all: She’s not his girlfriend, but he wants her to be. He’s afraid she might never be. He’s afraid of her accepting Chat but not Adrien. He’s afraid of ruining everything. He’s scared of letting himself hope only to be crushed again. He’s terrified that if this falls through he’s never going to find someone else…he’s never going to be able to love again, even if he does find someone else.

Plagg inhales slowly and takes just as long to breathe out. “So what are you going to do about it? You had a plan, didn’t you?” He nods over to where Émilie’s leather jacket and Adrien’s clothes are lying out for the day, golden bell on a leather choker sitting on top.

Adrien closes his eyes, takes several deep breaths, and nods. “This is stupid and reckless, and Marinette is probably the only one who won’t figure out my secret identity. Ladybug is going to kill me.”

Nathalie takes one look at him and sighs deeply. “Worse than I had anticipated.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he pouts.

“Well, no one recognized you when you dressed up as Chat Noir for that music video a few years ago, so maybe…” she mutters without answering his question.

“Do I look weird?” he begins to worry and considers chickening out.

“You look like Chat Noir,” Nathalie corrects, fiddling with her glasses.

He purses his lips. “…If it’s that bad, tell me to go change.”

She shakes her head and relents. “It’s not bad. It’s…I believe the correct classification is ‘sexy’. You project a ‘bad boy’ image.” He can hear the finger quotes in her voice despite her not physically using them. “You look good, Adrien; you just don’t look much like…‘you’.”

“Me me, or Adrien Agreste, face of Gabriel?” he wonders.

She turns away without responding. “You’re going to be late. If your father asks, I did not see you before you left. I have no knowledge of this.” She makes her way to the ground floor office. “Have a nice day, and good luck with Miss Dupain-Cheng.”

Adrien sighs and calls after her. “Thank you, Nathalie!”

Victor takes one look at him and shakes his head as he opens the back door of the car.

Adrien smiles innocently, opening the front passenger side door for himself and sliding in with a snicker of, “Shotgun!”

Vitya rolls his eyes, shuts the door, and goes around to get in the driver’s seat. He releases the parking break and then pauses, turning to look at Adrien again.

“Problem?” Adrien asks in Russian.

Victor sighs heavily. “Adrianushka, it is not my place, and I hate to say it, but—this—is obvious.”

Adrien blinks, thinking for a second that he has not heard right or mistranslated a word somewhere. “…‘This’?”

Vitya rolls his eyes once more and indicates Adrien’s outfit with a wave.

Adrien’s eyes widen. “Geez. Does everybody know?”

Victor grunts.

Adrien hangs his head. “I thought I was being careful. I thought I was being stealthy.”

Victor purses his lips, giving his charge a look of sympathy. “Adrianka, I’ve been your guard for how long now? I drive you for how many years, and you think I don’t notice you sneaking off during every single akuma attack and then slinking back with some hairbrained excuse that doesn’t hold water? You think I’m dumb enough to believe you?”

Adrien wilts.

Victor came to them a year or two after Nathalie. This man has known him since he was little, stood guard by his door for years, never been too far out of sight. Of course Vitya knows.

“Sorry,” Adrien mumbles. “No. Of course you figured it out.” He looks up with a pained expression on his face. “Do you think anyone else knows?”

Victor shrugs. “Natalka, obviously. She hasn’t said anything, but…”

“Yeah,” Adrien confirms. “Nathalie knows…. Do you think my father has any idea?”

Vitya lets out a boisterous roar of laughter. “Ha! Your father! Adriashenka, if your father knew, he would take your-your—what is it? Ring? He’d take your ring and lock you up for your own safety. Your father hasn’t an inkling.”

Adrien nods, looking miserable.

“There are times when I want to take your ring and lock you up myself, and I’m sure that Natalka feels the same way. She was a wreck on Thursday. Adrian Gavrillovich Agreste, if you’re not more careful in the future, you’re going to drive that woman to drink. Child, the whole house would be a—” It’s a word Adrien doesn’t know, but Victor’s tone makes it sound something like ‘dumpster fire’. “—if we lost you. Don’t you know this?”

Adrien curls even further up into himself and answers in a barely-there voice, “Sorry, Vitya.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Victor coaxes, giving Adrien’s arm an encouraging nudge. “Just don’t get yourself killed. Simple as that.”

This makes Adrien laugh, half genuine humor, half ruefulness. He gives Victor a watery smile. “It’s not so simple when it’s your job to keep Paris’s savior safe so that she can do her job.”

Victor gives a dismissive wave. “What are you—” An idiomatic expression that Adrien is not familiar with. From the tone, he fills in “chopped liver?” “—As if she saves Paris all by herself,” Victor scoffs. “Figure something out next time, Adrianka. Keep her safe without jumping in front of the car yourself. Your first instinct is always to act as a human shield. Kindly, cut it the—” Adrien knows that word, and it is a testament to how upset the ordeal has made Victor that he is using such strong language in front of Adrien. “—out, will you? Okay? Okay. We should be driving now. I’m making you late.”

They pull out of the drive and onto the street, making a few turns before ending up on the Quai Branly, taking the scenic route along the Seine on the Left Bank.

“So,” Vitya pipes up some minutes later. “Why are you being obvious today? I thought the superhero thing was a secret. Why are you trying to out yourself to all of Paris?”

“I’m only trying to out myself to one person in particular,” Adrien explains sheepishly, “…even though all of Paris might figure it out as a result. I’m being super reckless.”

“I’ll say,” Victor snorts. “And who is this special person you’re taking such a risk for?”

Adrien feels his cheeks heating up, but he doesn’t bother trying to hide it. Vitya would never make fun of him, so there’s no need to be embarrassed. “There’s…this girl.” Adrien bites his lip, casting Victor a sidelong glance. “Can I do this in French?”

Victor grunts. “English would be better for me, if you have to, but try it in Russian. If you don’t know the words, I’ll help you.”

Adrien nods, taking a deep breath. “There’s this girl.”

“Not Ladybug?” Vitya hums.

“Not Ladybug, but she might as well be for how-how—how do I say she’s so much better than I am?” Adrien fishes.

“She’s not,” Vitya snorts, “but the expression is ‘she is out of my league’.”

“Vitya, she is so out of my league. She’s gorgeous and talented and passionate and kind to people who don’t even deserve it, and she listens to me when I talk, and she doesn’t make me feel like an idiot, even though I most definitely am an idiot. She’s so… She’s amazing, Vitya. She’s so amazing, and I’m…” He shakes his head, knowing that he’s not doing Marinette justice.

“And you’re not amazing?” Victor shoots him a quick, disbelieving look before focusing back on the street as he makes the turn, crossing over to the Right Bank and heading east.

“I’m rich, and I’m pretty,” Adrien remarks dryly. “I’m not amazing.”

Vitya shakes his head. “The boy is blind. Never mind, Adrianka. Tell me about the girl.”

“I’ve been spending time with her as Chat Noir,” he continues.

Victor nods knowingly. “This is the girl who is Princess. I saw in the papers.”

“And we’re kind of thinking…maybe we like each other.” Adrien bites his lip before switching to English, making sure to enunciate. “Vitya, it’s complicated. She just got her heart broken by some jerk, and I’m trying to get over my feelings for Ladybug. Neither of us is ready to date yet, so I can’t let myself fall in love with her, but I do have a huge crush on her, and she’s taking the next month or two to decide if she wants to date me.”

Victor nods along, following Adrien’s predicament.

Adrien switches back to Russian. “She likes Chat Noir, but she’s unsure about Adrien. I want her to choose all of me, so I’m trying to show her pieces of Chat in Adrien and pieces of Adrien in Chat.”

“So you’re exposing your identity to the whole school,” Victor snickers. “Good plan. Agreste men really do do some pretty stupid things for the women they love. I think I owe Natalka five euros.”

Adrien wonders what exactly Gabriel has done to merit this comment alongside Adrien because Adrien knows exactly how stupid this is.

“Maybe people will just think I’m dressed up as Chat Noir. Maybe they won’t immediately think that I am Chat Noir,” Adrien suggests, mentally crossing his fingers.

Victor considers for a moment and then shrugs. “You did get away from that music video—” Adrien is going to have to make a study of idiomatic expressions. He’s guessing this one means something like “scot-free”. “—Maybe you’ll be so lucky this time.”

Victor sneaks another quick glance at Adrien. “Who exactly are you doing this for?”

Adrien sighs, reaching up to run a hand through his hair before he remembers the disgusting amount of gel currently in it. He drops his arm by his side and mumbles, “You know my classmate Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

Victor’s eyes go wide. He makes an exclamation that Adrien decides to translate as “Get out!” “Little Masha from the bakery?”

Adrien blinks. “Masha?”

“It’s the diminutive of ‘Marie’,” Victor explains. “She brings me coffee and a croissant when I’m sitting out front of the school in the mornings. She’s usually running late, but if she sees me waiting out front, she never fails to bring out a cup of coffee and a croissant.”

“See how amazing she is?” Adrien sighs. “That’s the kind of stuff that she does. All the time!”

“She’s a good girl,” Vitya agrees. “And you’re going to—” Adrien remembers only that it’s a cooking term, but he can’t match the verb to its French counterpart. “—her brain when she sees you dressed like Chat Noir.”

Adrien blinks. “You think? Do you think she’ll be able to tell that I really am Chat Noir?”

Victor purses his lips. “You mean once someone reboots her? No. The girl is clueless.”

It’s true, but…

Adrien sighs.

Nino takes one look at him, and—after the DJ has secured his eyeballs back into their sockets—rolls said eyes at Adrien. “Mec. My Dude. What. Are. You. Doing?!”

“Chat Noir cosplay?” Adrien smiles sheepishly.

Nino groans. “Mec, I know you’re just discovering an awesome girl with a thing for a certain superhero, but dressing like that superhero to get her to notice you… You’re gonna break her.”

“Nino, I don’t expect you to understand, but the situation is desperate, otherwise, I wouldn’t be doing something drastic like this,” Adrien sighs, reaching up for another aborted attempt to card a hand through his hair until he remembers the mess of gel. “I wish I could explain myself, but…” He gives his best friend a doe-eyed look of regret.

Nino takes off his hat to swipe at his brow with the back of his hand. He shakes his head and groans again. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Mec. I get it. Girls make guys do ridiculous things. I’m in love myself; I know this firsthand.”

A slow blush creeps over Adrien’s face at the comment. He doesn’t respond, even though his mind is chanting, “I’m not in love. I’m not in love. I canNOT be in love.”

On second thought, some verbal denial is deemed necessary. “Nino, I’m not in love with Marinette. This is just a little crush.”

Nino really looks at Adrien, smiles affectionately, and then shakes his head. “Oooh, Mec. Last week you told me you had never thought about her romantically in your life.”

“That was true!” Adrien rushes to defend himself. “I hadn’t until you brought it up—and while we’re on the topic, why didn’t you bring this up three years ago before Chat Noir got his paws on her?”

Nino shrugs. “Ask Alya. This wasn’t my idea, remember?—And then you were telling me your feelings for Marinette weren’t like that.”

“I was in denial,” Adrien rebuts. “I hadn’t realized that how I was feeling had shifted.”

“Now you admit you have a crush, but you’re digging your heels in concerning the intensity of your feelings,” Nino continues with a weary sigh, exhausted by the constant drama.

“Nino, I’m not in love,” Adrien stubbornly insists. “I can’t be.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t risk giving my heart away to be trampled on again,” Adrien stresses, making Nino wonder who’s been trampling on Adrien’s heart. Certainly not Ladybug. “I can’t let myself fall in love until I’m sure I’m not just courting misery and heartache here.”

Nino helpfully does not mention that Adrien is already experiencing misery and heartache over Marinette. “As your friend, I need you to stay the hell away from this girl. She likes someone else—not just anyone, but a superhero and a personal friend of yours—and she’s already had you seriously messed up the past week. If you pursue this, it’s only gonna get worse. This is a bad idea, Mec. She’s practically taken, and you’re only going to get yourself hurt—maybe physically, if you step on Chat Noir’s toes a time too many. He seems fond of you, but he also seems like the jealous type, and I can tell you from personally seeing them together yesterday that he is off the deep end in love with her. This isn’t going to be pretty, Adrien.”

Adrien shakes his head. “Nino, I don’t expect you to understand, but—”

“—Mec, I do understand,” Nino cuts him off gently, clapping a hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “That’s why, against my better judgment, I’m giving up and letting you do” He waves obliquely to Adrien’s outfit. “this. I’m going to shut up and support you. If you want to take on Chat Noir, I’ll be at your side. We can go get ice cream together or something after he wipes the floor with you.”

Adrien frowns. “Thank you? I appreciate your vote of confidence in me?”

“I’m being realistic,” Nino sighs, wishing he could go back and change things for Adrien. “I’m not trying to be harsh with you, Mec, but it would be cruel to encourage you and get your hopes up. The reality is that she loves him but cries ninety percent of the time she sees you. We’re fighting a losing battle, mon pote, and I’m prepared to fail and have to clean you up off of the floor afterwards. I’ll stand by you, Adrien, but I’m not going to lie to you to make you feel better in the short term.”

Adrien’s frown melts partially into confusion. “I’m not sure if you suck or if you’re the best.”

“I am Schrödinger’s turtle: simultaneously sucking and being the best,” Nino snorts, throwing an arm around Adrien’s shoulders. “Come on. We walk, Cat-Boy-Wannabe.”

“Why a turtle?”

“Reasons,” Nino snickers.

“…You suck,” Adrien decides.

“Only for you.” Nino winks, guiding Adrien through the quad towards the locker rooms.

Adrien rolls his eyes. “What if Chat Noir asked? I know you’re a total fanboy, Nino. Don’t pretend we’re exclusive.”

“I think Marinette is—” The innuendo concerning Marinette taking care of Chat Noir dies in Nino’s throat. He attempts to clear it.

Adrien tries really, really, really hard not to remember Marinette kneeling in front of him last night, pillowing her arms on his knees and looking up at him so sweetly, running her hands down his thighs and calling him by name.

He takes a deep breath and sighs at the futility of his situation.

“Sorry,” Nino mumbles for entirely the wrong reason. “We’ll get her to see you.” And yet somehow manages to pick the right words of comfort. “She’ll see how awesome Adrien Agreste can be, and, at the very least, you two can repair your relationship and be close friends. You’ve wanted that for a while, right?”

Adrien nods despite himself. Two weeks ago, the prospect of being honest-to-goodness friends with Marinette would have had him giddy. Now, if that’s all he gets… His stomach turns sour.

“Please let her see me…. Please let her like what she sees.”

As they pass through the quad, Adrien notes that he gets more stares and head-turns than usual. He keeps his easy model smile in place, but his voice is anxious when he whispers to Nino, “You don’t think anyone’s going to confuse me for the real Chat Noir, do you? I didn’t think of that.”

Nino shakes his head. “Nah. I mean the resemblance is striking—you had me seeing double for a minute there when you stepped out of the car—but you’re obviously not him.”

“How so?” Adrien feels slightly annoyed despite the fact that the security of his identity is astronomically important.

“Well,” Nino drops his arm from Adrien’s shoulders and takes a step back to better evaluate. “You two have the same body type, and the other physical features are similar, if not exact, but your hair is definitely not Chat Noir hair. His is naturally wild, and you can tell he rolls out of bed that way. Your hair looks like you had to coerce it to do that, and it still didn’t do exactly what you asked of it.”

Adrien sighs, giving up and conceding the point. “You have no idea how much gel I had to use to get it to do this. I would need literal magic to replicate Chat’s hair.”

“No shame in that, Mec. We can’t all have hair that fabulous,” Nino chuckles.

“What else about me is obviously not Chat Noir?” Adrien prompts.

“Well…” Nino bites his lip. “Sorry, but you’re too short.”

“Short?” Adrien is pretty sure he is exactly the right height to be Chat Noir.

“Yeah, I mean…Chat is about six foot. I’m six-one, and he’s just a hint shorter than me. You…” Nino grimaces. “Let’s just say it’s a good thing you got in on the model thing on the ground floor because you just don’t have the height for it.”

Adrien blinks stupidly, feeling insulted. He’s not THAT short.

“What are you? Like, five-eight?”

“Five-ten,” (in shoes) Adrien spits, drawing himself up a little straighter.

Nino shrugs helplessly. “It’s not your fault you dodged all the tall genes in your family. Maybe you’ll still have a growth spurt. I mean, Gabe is what? Six-four? And Nathalie is at least six feet, right? Both your parents are tall, so there’s still hope.”

Adrien stares for a moment and then breaks into a titter.

“What?” Nino gives him a funny look.

Adrien shakes his head. “Yeah. My mom is pretty tall, isn’t she?”

“And it’s not like she wears heels, really. You’d think with genes like that you’d be set.” Nino shrugs in a “What are ya gonna do?” manner.

“Unfortunately, my biological mother was only five-nine, so I don’t think my mom’s six-foot status is going to do much to help,” Adrien laughs heartily, more amused than he probably should be.

Nino smacks himself in the forehead. “Dude. Sorry. I don’t know where my head was at. I, like, know—”

“—Don’t apologize,” Adrien quickly cuts him off. “I’m actually really happy. I think of her as my mom, and if other people do too, I can probably get away with saying the ‘m’ word. It’s been a long time since I could talk about mothers in the present tense.”

Sensing Nino’s unease, Adrien grins and throws his arm around Nino’s shoulders. “So. What else makes me definitely not Chat Noir?” he inquires as they resume their walk to the locker room.

“—but they couldn’t hide the existence of a twin brother for seventeen years, could they? That’s just stupid,” Marinette groans, trying not to tear her hair out. She’s got it up in a cute chignon that she wants Chat to see, so it has to stay cute at least until she gets to the locker room where he’s probably lying in wait, lurking in the shadows…or, more likely, just plain going about his business with her completely oblivious to his existence.

Ugh.

“It does sound a little bit like the plot of an anime,” Alya confesses, nose buried in her phone. “I think we would know if Adrien and your Mystery Boy Chat were switching in and out.”

“Then again,” Marinette hums, fiddling with the black and white lace bracelet around her right wrist. “Stranger things have happened. I am living in the middle of a magical girl anime, after all.”

“Yeah, and you’re a reoccurring background character. How does that feel?” Alya hums, nearly walking into the doorframe.

For once, Marinette has to be the one to pull Alya out of the way before she runs into something. The irony is not lost on Marinette. “Alya, what are you even reading? You haven’t looked at me once this morning, you’re so absorbed in your screen.”

Alya blinks and looks up, rubs her eyes, and stares. “Wooow. Really looking to knock the boxers off someone, aren’t we?”

“Al-ya!” Marinette squeaks, swatting halfheartedly at her best friend.

Marinette is wearing an off-the-shoulder black top exposing plenty of collarbone paired with black and white patterned palazzo pants that look like a maxi skirt and billow as she walks. Adorning her neck and wrist and accenting her updo are the black and white choker, bracelet, and hair clip that she made last night out of Chat’s gift.

“I just wanted to look cute. Chat sent me some lace scraps leftover from some of his father’s old designs for our one-week anniversary last night, so…” Marinette shrugs again, and Alya stops walking.

“Let’s pause and unpack that sentence,” Alya proposes. “I would like to focus on what you mean by lace leftover from Chat’s father’s designs and the one-week anniversary aspects in particular.”

Marinette waves Alya away. “His father’s company is apparently a fashion house. He’s a fashion designer. Chat models for his father’s brand.”

Alya’s eyes narrow. “I hate to keep bringing it up, but…are we sure that Adrien and Chat are two unique individuals?”

“Not you too,” Marinette groans, half crumpling to the ground before straightening up to point a no-nonsense finger in Alya’s face. “No. Banish the thought from your mind. They’ve been screwing with me about this since-since…Friday? Anyway, I don’t need you helping them with their scheme to drive me insane.”

“Adrien and Chat are teaming up to drive you insane,” Alya repeats flatly, obviously doubting Marinette’s sanity already.

“Yes! This is where the twins theory comes from. I think Adrien’s the younger twin, despite seeming more mature and refined.”

“Uh-huh.” Alya starts to go back to her phone. “One-week anniversary?” she reminds. “Do people do that?”

“Chat and I do,” Marinette retorts as if Alya is the strange one.

“Girl, he’s already got you on the hook and wriggling. I’m gonna need his phone number and email. I’m totally serious.”

Marinette snatches Alya’s phone. “What are you even—” She freezes at what she sees.

“Webcomic,” Alya explains, making a grab for her phone.

Marinette dodges rather agilely, scrolling down and down, mesmerized by the drawings, the dialogue.

“The artist, APlaggOnBothYourHouses, is doing a Princess Noir comic, and it’s really good.”

Chat and Princess are sitting on a roof having the picnic Chat Noir prepared for Ladybug before Glaciator, watching the Eiffel Tower light show. Chat’s arm is around her, their faces a mere handspan apart, and Princess is obviously totally into him. Chat is likewise drunk on Princess’s existence.

“His art is amazing, and the story is actually pretty interesting too. Plagg postulates that Princess doesn’t know Chat Noir’s identity, and one of the main plot points is Chat Noir as a civilian trying to get Princess as a civilian to notice him and love both sides of him. They just keep completely missing one another, though.”

In the comic, Princess is asking Chat to take her stargazing sometime, and Chat is talking about going to his family’s chateau in the country in August during the break, since she’ll have figured out his identity by then.

Marinette claps a hand over her mouth. She is going to kill Plagg, because it can only be Plagg. …On second thought, she is going to have Tikki kill Plagg. Tikki will have a better idea of how to go about it and has probably been waiting several millennia for a valid excuse to do so.

“What…is Princess’s true identity in the comic?” Marinette tries not to sound too invested in the answer.

Alya shrugs, ceasing her efforts at phone retrieval. “She’s just a regular girl like any one of us. She doesn’t think she’s special or anything, but Chat Noir sees the greatness in her and adores her for it. Her name is Adrienne. Her parents own a restaurant up in Montmartre that she sometimes helps out at.”

Marinette forces herself to draw air into her lungs. “And…who is Chat?”

Alya shrugs again. “Some made-up teen actor named Marin Mineau. It’s just a fan work, Marinette. It’s not like Plagg knows their real identities. It’s all speculation and imagination.”

Marinette hands the phone back, not wanting to see any more. It’s better if she doesn’t know. It’s better if she doesn’t think about it. “Could you send me the link?” she finds herself asking. It’s part morbid curiosity, part the need to tell Chat about this.

Plagg has to be responsible. Who else would switch Adrien and Marinette around into Adrienne and Marin? Who else would even create a Princess Noir comic anyway? Chat, Adrien, Tikki, and Marinette herself are the only other possible suspects, and she has a feeling that it’s not any of them.

“Are you finally taking an interest in Paris’s latest power couple?” Alya titters mischievously, sending the link.

“Alya, I love you, but I’m too wrapped up in my own love life right now to bother with anyone else’s.”

Alya opens the locker room door, catches sight of Adrien leaning up against Marinette’s locker, watermelon pink rose in hand, and relents. “You have a point. I believe your love life requires your full and undivided attention as we speak.”

Marinette frowns as Alya starts to walk away. “What?”

“Good luck!” Alya calls, heading for her own locker.

Marinette shakes her head, too tired to deal with this nonsense. With a sigh, she points herself in the right direction.

Adrien comes into focus, and Marinette halts as her brain attempts to process. She’s not sure what she’s seeing. That’s Chat Noir, but he’s not wearing his suit or his mask or his cat ears. His hair isn’t quite right. His eyes aren’t quite right. He looks like Adrien, but he looks like Chat, but he looks like Adrien, but…

He moves, and it makes it so much worse. It’s not Adrien’s usual gait but Chat’s. He slinks like Chat towards her, coming to a stop entirely too close, only two feet away.

“Good Morning, Princess,” he purrs, all Chat as he scoops up her hand and presses a kiss to the inside of her wrist, lips brushing against the lace there.

He offers her the rose. It’s the same pink color as the dried rose in the vase on her shelf in her loft was back when it was fresh…the rose he gave her—Chat gave her—during the Papa Garou incident.

“It reminded me of you,” he coos, refusing to let Adrien be embarrassed by any of this. He’s Chat right now, even without the mask, and he has no qualms about being a total flirt. “More specifically, your lips.”

He taps them ever so lightly with his index finger and winks. The wink is very Adrien, but the tone is very Chat.

Marinette’s brain shuts down for a fourth time, and all that comes out of her mouth is a strangled noise of confusion.

“Say, are you tired?” he prompts.

Marinette arches an eyebrow in bewilderment, pathetically trying to keep up.

“I just wondered. I know you have a lot of stamina, but since you’re been running through my mind all night… I mean, that has to tire you out, right?”

Marinette is tempted to smack herself in the face. She’s tempted to smack HIM in the face, whoever he is. (Her brain can’t quite decide right now, and she’s pretty sure she’s seeing things.)

“By the way,” his voice softens. “The accessories you made with that lace turned out exquisitely. I knew you’d be able to make something beautiful with them. You’re so talented, Princess.”

Marinette melts a little bit at the genuine admiration in his voice. The rest has felt like a ruse precisely calculated to mimic the fake, flirty side of Chat that turned her off for so long. It seemed orchestrated to annoy her, but this…

She nervously fingers the lace choker around her neck, blushing under his adoring gaze. She opens her mouth to thank him, but then he goes and ruins everything.

“Your hair looks gorgeous in a chignon like that,” he whispers, as if it’s their own private joke.

It is Chat and Marinette’s private joke, and her brain has finally decided that this is definitely just Adrien Agreste screwing with her.

“You should wear it like that more often,” he adds in a voice so low, she’s the only one who can hear it.

He reaches out and takes the chin-length bang that is always out of place, pressing a reverent kiss to it.

That is it.

Marinette emits a high-pitched noise akin to a boiling teapot, causing Adrien to jerk back in concern.

“Princess? I’m sorry. I—”

“—I’m going to kick you in the shin,” Marinette announces coolly.

Adrien only has enough time to blink in confusion and get out half a “Wha—?” before she makes good on her threat.

Adrien yelps as her foot makes contact with his shin. “What the hell?!” he squawks.

“You don’t get to say ‘what the hell’!” Marinette snaps. “I get to say ‘what the hell’! What the hell, Adrien Agreste?!” She punctuates the question with a one-handed shove to his chest.

“Princess,” he attempts to placate, but she’s having none of it.

“Don’t call me that!” she squeaks. “There’s only one person allowed to call me that, and you’re NOT him, Adrien Agreste, so just cut it the hell out! I’m so sick of you two!” She shoves him again, and he takes it. “I’m sick of this game!”

“It’s not a game!” Adrien snaps back, the frustration finally coming to a head. He steps forward. “Maybe I’m sick of you. Maybe I’m fed up with the way you smile and laugh with him and burst into tears with me. Maybe I’m jealous.” He steps forward again, forcing her either to retreat or come chest to chest with him.

Marinette does not back down. She leans into him, hands going to her hips as she presses forward, the length of her body flush against his. It’s a tug of war she does not intend to lose. She will push him over before she allows herself to lose ground.

“Oh, you’re jealous?” she hisses. “What? Do you want me to scratch behind your ear and call you pet names too?”

She reaches up and does just that, and she feels his body soften, some of the tension evaporating at her touch.

“Hmm? How’s that, Minou?” She says it gently, but there are obviously barbs in her words. “Does that sooth your bruised ego?”

There’s a sharp intake of breath as she trails a hand down his neck.

“Hmm?” she prompts. “Is that better, Minou? Is this what you want?”

“I want you to see me,” he mutters, feeling all kinds of confused. His brain is scrambled.

“Why? You’ve never seen me,” she retorts with another shove. “Where do you get off being jealous anyhow?” She’s snapping again. “Two weeks ago you had zero interest in me. Now, now that your friend or your brother or your cousin or whoever likes me, now I’m suddenly worth paying attention to? You’re not really interested in me, Adrien. You’re just throwing a childish fit, so kindly cut it the hell out.” She punctuates her words with a fourth shove.

He doesn’t budge. He presses harder, almost managing to knock her back. Despite his height and weight advantage, Marinette is strong, and she stands firm.

He grits his teeth. “Listen here, Beautiful. I—”

“—Okay, okay. Enough!” Nino shouts, physically picking Marinette up and moving her so that he can come between them.

Adrien nearly falls over, and Marinette gives an undignified squawk.

“Al, put your damn phone down and stop filming. The rest of you, stop gawking. There’s nothing to see here,” Nino instructs, bristling at the rubberneckers.

He turns back to Adrien and Marinette and glares. “Breathe. The both of you.”

Marinette opens her mouth to protest, but Nino cuts her off with a look and a warning finger in her face. “Don’t get akumatized.”

Marinette audibly begins to breathe deeply.

Nino turns to Adrien with a sympathetic look. “You too, Mec.”

Adrien gazes back miserably like a chastened puppy.

“It’s okay, Mec,” Nino coaxes. “She doesn’t hate you. We’ll fix this, so just breathe and don’t get akumatized. That’s your job right now.”

Adrien nods and forces himself to keep inhaling and exhaling in a steady rhythm. He doesn’t dare look at Marinette.

“Okay,” Nino interrupts the breathing exercise a minute later, resting one hand on Marinette’s arm and the other on Adrien’s. “I think the lady gets an apology first. Adrien, please apologize to Marinette for this stunt.”

Adrien crumples, voice low, soft, and thoroughly beaten. “I’m sorry, Marinette. This was stupid. I should have known you wouldn’t react positively. I was just kidding myself thinking this would end well.”

Nino nods, satisfied. “Marinette, Adrien is sorry that he upset you. What do you say?”

She looks dumbly at one of her oldest friends. This feels like a test she hasn’t studied for. “…I…What do you want me to say? I’m still mad. He’s being childish and objectifying me. I’m not some prize for him to fight Chat over. I deserve more consideration than that, and he wasn’t remotely interested in me before a week ago. I’m…I’m still mad.”

Nino takes a long inhale, trying to be patient. “Pot.” He pokes her on the cheek. “Kettle.” He indicates Adrien. “Marinette, look at him.”

Adrien tries to melt through the floor. He wants to escape because he can feel her eyes on him, and they burn.

Nino lowers his voice even further so that only the three of them can hear. “Marinette, give him a break. He doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing. He wants your attention. He wants you not to hate him. He spent the first thirteen years of his life locked up in a mansion with very little contact with people his own age. He’s dealing with a steep learning curve, and I’d say he’s doing pretty good. Can you imagine how hard it would be to act normal when you have very little conception of what normal is? You have a hard enough time in life with a supportive family and friends who love you. You’ve got to admit that Adrien’s playing with the deck stacked against him. Show a little mercy, will ya? He’s just trying to get you to like him, yeah?”

“I do like him,” Marinette grumbles, cheeks red as she looks away from Adrien’s cowering form. “I like him when he’s my friend Adrien, not when he’s badly imitating my friend Chat.”

Nino internally counts to three. “Okay. That’s fair. I’m in no way saying you don’t have any reason to be upset. I realize that it’s been a very emotional week, but I think right now that you’re not being fair to Adrien.”

Marinette cocks an eyebrow but waits patiently for Nino to continue.

“Let’s do a thought experiment,” Nino proposes as if talking to a room full of rowdy elementary school students. “Marinette, last week, Monday morning, if I had asked you, ‘Marinette, what do you think of Chat Noir romantically?’ what would you have said?”

Marinette’s face goes pale, and she steps back, away from Nino and closer to the lockers, crossing her arms. “I-I don’t know,” she answers cagily.

“I call bull,” Nino scoffs. “You know what you would have said. You would have told me, ‘Not in a thousand years’ and that there was someone else. And now, one week later, I hear from Alya that you two are already planning your wedding. If you can change your mind in one week, why can’t Adrien?”

“…Oh,” Marinette barely manages to meep out. All color has completely drained out of her cheeks, and she’s looking a little unsteady.

“Yes,” Nino laughs without mirth. “‘Oh’. Now, do you really think your friend Adrien would ever objectify you? Turn you into a trophy to fight some other guy over? Do you really think he’s just being childish right now?”

“No,” Marinette whispers down at her feet. “But if he isn’t…then I don’t know what to think at the moment.”

“Well then, it sounds like you have some thinking to do, don’t you?” Nino announces, voice going gentle. He doesn’t want to push her too hard and doom Paris because of it, so he’s backing off a little but not letting her completely off the hook yet.

She nods obediently, eyes wide and horrified at the discovery of her own hypocrisy. Helpfully, her mind calls up all the times she ever hurt Chat as Ladybug, adding on to the guilt pile.

“Now,” Nino coaxes. “You’re allowed to be sore about it in private, but Adrien just told you he was sorry for upsetting you. What do you say, Marinette?”

“Stop,” Adrien insists, firmly but kindly, as he steps between Nino and Marinette, shielding her. “Thanks, Nino, but she’s fine. You’re just upsetting her. She doesn’t have to apologize to me. She hasn’t done anything wrong. I mean, I’m the one who started it.”

“God, I’m such a witch,” Marinette mumbles, only half cognizant of what’s going on around her.

Adrien turns and takes her by the shoulders. “Princess, you are not. You are one of the most spectacular human beings I’ve ever met.”

She shakes her head sadly. “How can you say that when I’ve been nothing but awful to you for going on a week now? Why can’t you just be mad at me?”

“I am mad,” Adrien confesses. “I’m just more smitten than mad most of the time.”

Marinette lets out an enormous groan, bringing her head down to rest on his shoulder. “You two have got to be related; you sound just like him.”

She peeks up tentatively. “I need to sit you down and confess my sins against you at length sometime. You won’t find me nearly so wonderful after that.”

His hands slide down her arms to hold her hands loosely, careful not to damage the rose still gripped in her palm.

“Try me,” he dares her, words feather light in her ear.

She shakes her head. “Too much of a scaredy-cat right now. Maybe later today. Maybe tomorrow…. Maybe never.”

Marinette steps back, slowly pulling away from him. “I’m really sorry, Adrien. Thank you for the rose.”

He catches her hand and brings it to his lips. “I’ve already forgiven you, Marinette. Try to forgive yourself.”

She sighs loudly and pulls her hand away again. “How are you so good?” Tears begin to sting her eyes as she reaches out and rings the bell on his choker. “Stop being so good, Minou.”

His brain momentarily goes offline as he thinks that he’ll be just as bad as she wants him to be if she’ll only do that again.

“You’re such a lightweight, Agreste,” he mentally chides.

“You’re so good,” she repeats, the tears beginning to fall.

He reaches out in alarm to wipe at the tears, but she smiles and waves his hands away gently.

“And I can’t be around you right now, but that doesn’t mean I hate you, okay? Excuse me.”

She bolts across the locker room and yanks her locker open with a strange desperation.

The recording of the day starts up, and the tension abruptly leaves Marinette’s body. The tears dry up, and she smiles lovingly at the sound of Chat’s voice.

The scene makes Adrien feel weak at the knees because she’s making that face for him, because of him.

“Hey, Beautiful!” the Chat in the recording greets, and she perks up. “Good Morning.”

Chat does help. Chat does make a difference…and, maybe, if Adrien keeps working on it, maybe Adrien can too.

“It’s actually two in the morning right now, and guess what I’m doing?” the Chat recording continues.

“Not sleeping,” Marinette scoffs, grabbing her English text out of her locker.

“Right. Not sleeping,” Chat sighs.

Marinette giggles, and Alya comes over to join her. “Even though you said you were exhausted last night?”

“I know I was complaining about how exhausted I was, but now that I’m home, I’m wide awake.”

“Why?” Marinette inquires during the brief pause.

“…I’m actually kind of nervous about seeing you tomorrow,” Chat’s disembodied voice confesses, causing Marinette to pause and frown.

“You’re either going to know it’s me right away and probably hit me…or you’re not, and that’s going to suck…. But you’re all here for the music, not to stand around and listen to me talk. This one is super annoying. If you’ve seen me, you can hit me. If not, think of having this song stuck in your head all day as your punishment.”

Marinette winces.

“I’m just kidding, Marinette,” Chat laughs, and Adrien can definitely tell that he did this at two AM. “I love you.”

There is a collective gasp in the locker room, and many students begin to cheer. Rose is actually jumping up and down while Kim begrudgingly hands Alix ten euros, obviously having lost a bet concerning Marinette and Chat’s love life.

“This is Elle Me Dit by Mika,” Chat announces, and then the music starts.

Amid the general commotion, Nino turns to Adrien and gives him a funny look.

Adrien barely notices. He’s too busy watching Marinette.

“Mec?”

“Hmm?” He doesn’t take his eyes off of her.

“Your voices are really similar,” Nino remarks, giving Adrien a thoughtful stare.

Adrien isn’t paying attention. “Whose?”

“Your voice and Chat’s voice,” Nino expounds upon his comment.

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t hear my voice outside of my own skull often.” Adrien shrugs, throat beginning to tighten as Marinette slowly scans the room, obviously looking for him. “Is it bad that I sound like Chat?”

Nino shakes his head, letting go of the peculiar thought. “No. It’s just…an odd coincidence.”

Adrien hums thoughtfully starting to fidget as Marinette’s eyes come closer and closer to finding his own. “Would you still think it was odd if I told you we’re related?”

Nino blinks. “Oh. Like how Noël is supposedly starting to sound like me when he picks up the phone.”

Only Nino is not aware of Adrien having any relatives. In fact, Adrien has specifically told him before that his parents were both only children, so that rules out the possibility of cousins. This bothers Nino.

Marinette’s eyes finally come to rest upon Adrien, and they pause there for a second.

He gives her his best smile, hoping she notices how she makes him light up from within.

Marinette smiles fondly and gives a soft laugh before resuming her scan.

Adrien’s heart plummets.

It doesn’t look like it’s happening today.

He sighs, crestfallen.

Nino abandons his conspiracy theories to raise an eyebrow in concern at Adrien. “Everything okay, Dude?”

Adrien shakes his head. “This is Ladybug all over again. I’m going to wind up in the friend zone my entire life, and this is just me struggling futilely before giving up, resigning myself to my fate.”

Nino takes Adrien by the shoulders and forces Adrien to face him. “Mec…drama much? Don’t think that way. She…” Nino doesn’t know where he’s going with this, doesn’t know what to say to make it better for Adrien without outright lying. “…Wanna skip class and go get ice cream right now?”

Adrien laughs hollowly. “I’m actually partial to pastries over ice cream. I would live on Tom and Sabine’s pain au chocolat, given the opportunity.”

“Let’s go,” Nino prompts, slapping Adrien on the back. “Come on. Right now. It’s literally next door; we’ll be back before anyone misses us.”

Adrien shakes his head slowly. “Maybe some other time. I kind of just want to stand here and feel miserable watching her.”

Nino sighs, giving Adrien’s arm two condoling pats.

Marinette finishes her scan, looking about as disappointed as Adrien feels. She blows out a sigh as she pulls out her phone.

Adrien’s pocket vibrates, and his heart soars.

“Secret girlfriend?” Nino grumbles.

“Secret girlfriend,” Adrien giggles, suddenly feeling like he can walk on air.

“I love you too, Minou,” says Marinette’s first text. The others follow shortly: “I’m so sorry I’m disappointing you.” “Hang in there.” “I’ll find you soon.”

Adrien hurriedly types back, “You could never disappoint me, Princess. I’ll be waiting as long as it takes.”

He looks up to see her smile, seemingly reassured by his response.

“Are you texting Marinette?” Nino wonders, looking back and forth between the two.

“Didn’t we have this fight yesterday?” Adrien pouts.

Nino puts his hands up in surrender and lets it drop.

Adrien looks back down at his flip phone and adds, “Your hair looks gorgeous in a chignon like that.”

Marinette chuckles, touching her hair self-consciously. “Thank you!” she replies.

She glances up and looks around, giving the search another try.

Their gazes lock for a second once more, and Adrien takes the opportunity to smile and wave, betting he looks utterly ridiculous. He can’t bring himself to care.

She gives him a funny look, but she smiles and sends a petite wave right back at him.

“I am doomed,” Adrien sighs happily.

“I’ll say,” Nino groans, inwardly beginning to plot. He’s going to do his best to make things right for Adrien, even if he has to stoop to some Alya-level scheming to accomplish it.

Somehow, Nino doubts he is actually capable of accomplishing Alya-level anything.

He might need the real Alya’s help with this.

#Marichat #Adrienette #Adrinette #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Chat Noir #Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Adrien Agreste #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Chat Noir #Nino Lahiffe #Plagg #Le Gorille #Mikau's Writings #The Rejects Club

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