Chapter Text
It begins as a joke one night when he sees a random online ad asking for young people ages eighteen to thirty five to send in an application to the Institute of Love, Marriage, and Relationships for experimental marital matchmaking. After all, who will take a joke of an application from a physics professor who recently moved back to France and hasn’t had a real relationship ever seriously?
(Hi, so my name is Adrien Agreste and I used to be a really famous teenage fashion model a long time ago, and this might surprise you, but I have never had the greatest track record with girls...)
It starts to become real when he receives an e-mail notifying him that he’s been accepted into a pool of bachelors to be a possible candidate. He knows from the beginning that it’s not guaranteed that he’ll be matched, but Adrien puts his heart in the hands of marriage and love experts to hold for the time being.
(If he’s lucky, his heart will be held by his future wife next, but his luck has always been spotty at best).
(But he’s not taking this seriously. He’s not).
However, it is only in this moment now that it hits him that the only thing between him and an interview to be part of an arranged marriage for science is a door. A rather nice door made out of dark wood. Real wood, if he has to be precise, not that cheap plywood stuff.
And after some thought, he thinks he’s okay with that.
Just a normal guy trying to find a normal wife and start a life and--
Okay, maybe his standards are also really just that low and desperate. Either are plausible at the moment, but emphasis on the desperate.
So, taking a deep breath and putting on a handsome model smile, Adrien twists the knob to prove himself to god knows who.
That was the plan, at least, until he takes his first step inside and he kinda trips--okay, really trips--on the rug and almost has his face and the ground break the fall. Neither have to as he catches himself last second, chuckling awkwardly while trying to hide the embarrassment that colors his cheeks. Standing up fully, he finally locks eyes with the older woman seated in the room, her hand hiding her smile as she laughs.
Rubbing a hand through blond hair, his fingers trail to the back of his neck as he gives her a sheepish grin. “Not my finest strut on the catwalk, to say the least.”
She stands up too, extending her hand across the small white coffee table as he reaches the purple armchair. Her bright teal suit compliments the silver in her hair and the twinkle in her brown eyes.
“Mr. Agreste, I presume?” she asks, her voice filled with mischief. “I’m Doctor Laurens and I am the head sociologist for this experiment.”
Gripping her hand, Adrien hopes he comes off as a confident guy after his stumble, giving her an easy smile. “Nice to meet you, Doctor. I’m really excited that I was even called for the second round.”
They both get comfortable as she smiles, reaching for a large file. “Yes, Father Andrew did write down that during your interview you were very happy about this.”
“Oh,” he gulps, resisting the urge to tug on the nice collar of his dress shirt. “You already have his notes?”
Doctor Laurens smirks, tapping the file on her knee. “That I do. I even have notes from Doctor La Cour and your interview about sex and intimacy.”
At twenty-seven, Adrien didn’t think it was possible for a grown man to blush any more in one day, but here he is, blushing wildly with his face buried in his hands as the woman across from him giggles.
“You’re a bit bashful, aren’t you?” the doctor teases.
Groaning, Adrien forces himself to sit straight up in his seat, his green eyes almost not able to meet hers as he plays with a gold button his sports jacket. “Well...I’ve given a lot of personal information today...you know, about my faith, my sex life, and whatever you’re going to ask, too.”
She smiles, her face warm as she scribbles in her notes. “It’s very refreshing, actually. You really wear your heart on your sleeve despite being so shy.”
He only nods, letting out a breathy laugh.
The air between them is strangely relaxing, the doctor’s face free from judgement like her other partners as she grabs a page from the file and clicks her pen twice before starting.
“So, Adrien,” she starts, her pointed gaze charged with curiosity. “What does love mean to you? How does it fit into your life?”
The words hang in the air for a few moments as his heartbeat sounds in his ears, pounding wildly as love crawls up his throat and makes him feel warm.
“Love is...” he trails, almost afraid to let the word’s out, but finds the courage. “Love is about being equal with someone. Knowing that our lives compliment each other and we’re a team...that there is no fitting, just being.”
“Just being?”
“Yeah,” he smiles fondly, memories of his youth filling his heart. “My first love--we never became anything really, but we were...a team. Partners that depended on each other and I realized early on that that’s how I define love.”
Come on, you silly kitty. We can’t play forever!
I got fur-ever for you, bugaboo.
“She sounds very sweet,” the doctor comments, her pen starching the paper.
He hums. “I hope she still is! I really admired her when we were younger. Wanted to kinda be just like her, too. We were best friends, but then I had to move far away with my father and never saw her again.”
The doctor puts her pen down and stares at him. “Why not try to reconnect with her then?”
To say that the idea hasn’t crossed his mind would be a lie, but Adrien shakes his head, knowing memories are things of the past and today is about his future.
“Because sometimes love ends for whatever reason and between us, it never started and that’s okay. I learned a lot from her and I learned a lot about what I want,” he tells the doctor earnestly, his mind filled with red and blue. “And I want to find someone who has the same values as me, someone who wants to be a team player with me and love me for all my faults, too.”
“And what would be a fault?”
If Plagg were here, he would say everything, but the little kwami is relaxing easy at home today, so Adrien just answers honestly. “That I don’t speak up enough when I need to sometimes or that I’m afraid to take things seriously because I don’t want to be let down.”
“Ah, because of your family?”
He swallows thick, “Yes. My family life is complicated, to say the least. My father never recovered after my mother left...and it took us many years to finally start actually talking again, but like you said,” he pauses, grinning a bit, “I’m a bit bashful and shy.”
Doctor Laurens leans forward, her grin very wide. “I would also say that you’re very hopeful too!” She rests her chin in her hand. “Most of the time, a lot of the people who come in here talk about what they want their spouse to look like, but you’ve only mentioned how you would like her to be like with you. Just an equal. That’s sweet.”
“Well, I used to know a girl whose parents’ owned a bakery, maybe the sugar from there rubbed off on me.”
Doctor Laurens goes back to writing in her file, her eyes never looking up, but she has a hidden smile.
“That may just be.”
But it’s not a joke when there is a knock on his door a few weeks later and his hair's a mess because he has been up all night grading papers for his students and there stands Doctor Laurens, bright and cheery like the morning sun.
It’s also the exact moment when his heart stops because he knows, he knows exactly what this means.
“May I come in?”
“Of--of course,” he stutters, pulling the door open wide to his apartment as he kicks a shoe or two out of her way.
Oh god. Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod.
“Been busy, I see!”
Does this mean…?
“Midterms, ma’am. Midterms.”
She laughs, warm and kind makes her way to his living room. “Well, don’t worry. I’m not here to go through your things again, though I really did admire your anime and manga collection. Very endearing.”
You really like magical girls, don’t you?
...I always wanted to be a superhero too, you see...and well, Sailor Moon was always better than Tuxedo Mask....
There is only a slight lull in conversation as Adrien rushes to his kitchen to grab his pot of fresh coffee, two mugs, sugar, and cream. His heart is rushing too, making it hard to breathe, making it hard to do anything. He almost slips on a stray piece of paper--but doesn’t, thank god--and makes it back to her in record time.
She takes the coffee pot out of his hand and begins pouring it for both of them, pausing for a second asking if he likes his coffee sweet or bitter, before leaning back into his simple couch and scanning his living room.
It’s simple, too. Nothing too flashy, but homey with a few art pieces from an old friend hanging on the wall. There are some photographs of him and Nino. Some of his family, too.
Okay, don’t drink the coffee, Adrien. Just hold the mug. You’re going to throw up otherwise. Let’s not throw up. Fuck, I have to throw up....
Doctor Laurens nods, looking pleased with herself. “I’m sure you know why I'm here.”
He takes a deep breath, his heart thrumming in his chest. “I hope I know why you’re here.”
Please let me be right.
She grins. “You might know or you might not.”
Don’t puke, please don’t puke.
The doctor smirks as she reaches into her handbag, a solid plum color that is popular each fall. Shuffling around a bit, she finally pulls out an impressive fancy envelope, his gold leafed name reflecting in the lighting.
Doctor Laurens slides it across his light wooden coffee table, letting it sit there between them as Adrien gapes in disbelief. She holds back her laughter as she gestures with her hand for him to pick it up, encouraging him with the twinkle in her eye.
He wipes a clammy hand on his sweats before reaching forward to grab the envelope. His heart is about to jump out of his chest, doing everything it can to breath free as his thumb slips under the folded part of the flap and digs it out. The inside of the envelope is gold leafed too, bright and shiny as it protects the white cardstock he shimmies out easily from its hold.
Adrien closes his eyes for brief second, sending a prayer to the heavens because he has never wanted something or someone as much before as he does right now. He gulps as he pries his eyes open and lets out a shaky breath as he he flips the note open.
Dear Mr. Adrien Agreste
Congratulations! We are pleased to inform that you have been selected for a match and you will meet your bride at the altar in two weeks. While we can’t disclose her name, please rest assured that she is just as excited to meet you as you are to meet her.
Best Wishes,
Doctor Laurens, Doctor La Cour, and Father Andrew
As he reads the words, there is no way to describe the happiness that bubbles in his soul, that dances on his heart and floods every cell of his body. He has been given a chance, he’s been good enough, he’s good enough for someone on this planet. And this someone, whoever she is--is just as excited as he is too. The moment is surreal as he leaps up from his seat, pulling Doctor Laurens from her feet and grabbing her into a hug.
“I just--I just--” he babbles, unable to truly process what this means, only able to react to the way his heart is soaring.
“Congratulations, Adrien,” the doctor tells him as they let go. “I think you’re going to make a fine husband for your bride.”
My bride, he thinks, a stupid smile spread across his face. I think I like the sound of that.
Later that night he can’t stop giggling, tossing in his bed as Plagg continues to roll his eyes and tease him.
“You don’t even know her!”
“I know!”
“...humans, so ridiculous!”
But if being ridiculous means being happy, Adrien will take it. He presses against his soul and cherishes the way his world has turned anew, refreshed with possibility instead of negativity. It carries him until he is sleepy, nestled in his bed for one with the hope that soon he can share it with someone. Rely on the very fact that there will be a body next to him as he sleeps if he’s ever so lucky.
(He hopes he’s so lucky at least).
And it those thoughts that help him drift off to sleep, thoughts of a wife and a future with someone that make his soul feel light instead of heavy.
Dear wife,
I found out I get to marry you today. I don’t know your name, but I can’t wait for our future. I can’t wait at all to say the least.
Yours,
Me
(Unless you don’t want to actually be mine, I also respect that? Wait, no question. I do respect that and your choices. Like no pressure. This is an experiment and I can be weird and dear lord, I really, really, really need to go sleep).
It stopped being a joke yesterday after Doctor Laurens left and in this moment as Adrien waits outside a jewelry store waiting for Nino to arrive. His stomach feels jittery with the good news, but also apprehensive about how to tell his best friend too.
As he thumbs through his cell phone, looking up articles how to be a good husband, there is a clap on his shoulder and he’s dragged into a bear hug. “Hey, man! Taking a break from grading?”
His breath mists in the cool autumn air as the season crawls towards winter. “Something like that...” he trails, his hand going to the back of his neck as usual.
Nino eyes him for a moment, but punching him playfully in the shoulder. “Okay, whatever dude. I’m just ticked that you’re only telling me now that you have a girl!”
“Um, what?” he asks, eyes going wide as his friend laughs at him. “How did you know?”
Nino rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue. “We’re at a jewelry store, and unless you brought me here to buy me some bling, then I’m going to go with option two: that it’s for a girl.”
“Oh. Right.”
You can do this. You were Chat Noir, most confident guy in all of Paris.
Gesturing to go inside, Nino makes a beeline to some pretty necklaces. “Is it your first month anniversary or something? What’s her birthstone?” Shuffling a bit to the side, he points at some earrings. “Does she wear a lot of earrings? Alya really likes hoops, dude. Expensive. Gold. Hoops.”
“Uh....”
“Or what about a charm bracelet? Marinette, you remember Marinette, right? She always goes on about how it would be sweet to get charms from her guy, if she had one.”
It’s right then and there that Nino spins on his foot and looks at him, almost as if plotting. “So, I’m not trying to jinx anything but--” he starts, “if things don’t well with your girl, you should date Marinette. That would be so rad, dude.”
Adrien laughs and pushes out a big breath of air. “Um, Nino. I’m, uh, that’s sweet, but I hope I’ll be with this girl for a long, long time...maybe?”
Nino relaxes and leans against the glass counter. “Yeah, man? What’s her name?”
Adrien winces, and buries his hands in his coat pocket. “That...I don’t know.”
Nino furrows his brows together, confusion apparent. “How do you not know?”
“Well…” Adrien starts, “do you remember when I told you that I applied to be part of that matchmaking experiment.”
“Yes.”
He peeks at his best friend. “Well…”
He hears Nino take in a big breath of air, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped as he stares at his best friend. “Oh my god…”
“Yeah.”
“Oh my god!”
“...yeah...”
It is then then that Nino wraps into a bear hug, lifting him from the ground and squeezing the life out of him so intensely that he knocks his own cap off. “My best bro is getting married! My best dude is getting married!”
“...Nino, put me down--people are staring,” Adrien tries to sound annoyed, but he can’t stop smiling.
After picking up his hat and placing it back on his head, Nino smiles and pushes him towards the wedding rings. The diamonds glitter in the case as Nino starts pointing at several at them.
“Do you know what she likes?”
Adrien shakes his head, “No, I only know her ring size...but…” he trails, the sentence unfinished as one in the back row catches his eye.
“I think I know which one to get.”
One that’s just like my mother’s. For now...that will have to be enough.