Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Adrien donned his hood as he tiptoed down the stairs of his house. Nathalie was absorbed in her tablet, probably changing his father’s schedule for the dozenth time that morning. He kept his face forward, forcing his thoughts to be quiet as he slowly opened the front door, cringing as it gave a small creak.

He slipped through and closed it, a smile almost making it to his face before he turned around and bumped into his body guard.

So much for his plan.

“Hey.” He did finger guns, as if something so awkward was going to help him get out of this. “My father told me I could walk to school today. Something about giving the paparazzi more time to photograph me wearing this new outfit he designed?”

Before he could get an answer, Adrien raced down the last few steps and jogged towards the gates. “Thanks! I’ll see you after school.”

His shoulders sagged in relief after he rounded the corner from his house. Finally, a minute to himself. Outside, in the real world.

Adrien took a deep breath. He could do this school thing, as many compromises as he had to make to get it. It was worth it.

He hoped.

He looked up at the trees, the buildings, at the people drinking coffees at the plentiful cafes with platefuls of pastries and fruit lavishing their tiny tables. The streets were busy with pedestrians and cars alike, tourists taking pictures, Parisians strolling to work, the store, or walking their dogs. For once, no one was looking at him. For once, he was just a person in a crowd, no one special.

Unless being lost counted as special.

Adrien locked his jaw as he realized that his sense of direction was probably as good as a toddler’s. He didn’t even know the name of the school he was attending to be able to ask his phone for directions. He hadn’t cared at the time which school he’d be attending, so long as he was able to go to an actual school. The closest he’d gotten was vaguely listening to Nathalie telling his bodyguard the intersection it was located near and he only remembered one of the streets, which wasn’t exactly helpful.

He looked at the time. Class started in twenty minutes and it was most likely another ten minute walk—and that was if he knew where he was going. He really didn’t want to be late on his first day.

He studied his GPS, rushing to the corner of the street he knew the school was on. The only thing was he didn’t know what direction to go after that and there were two schools about the same distance away in opposite directions.

Adrien closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Why hadn’t he paid more attention?

“Are you a tourist?”

Adrien opened his eyes to find a girl his age who had just crossed the street, a backpack on her back and a duffel at her side. She pointed somewhere behind her offhandedly. “The Eiffel Tower is that way.”

“I know where the Eiffel Tower is,” Adrien replied, offended. He may be lost now, but it’s not like you couldn’t see the Eiffel Tower from practically everywhere in Paris. That was like not knowing where the sun was.

She shrugged. “You look like a lost tourist.”

“I’m not a tourist.” He adjusted his hood anyway, just in case.

“Your outfit looks like it was put together by one.” She eyed him up and down. “A bit obsessed with the Agreste brand, aren’t you?”

Most everything his father had picked out for him ended up having the logo on it today, even if they were small and less obnoxious than most brand-named clothes. It was a bit of a power move, really, because his father hated clothes with logos and felt they were beneath his own business—and yet he would brand his own child like he was cattle.

He blinked at the sight of her bag. “Hey, isn’t that the logo of some school?”

“Francoise Dupont High? Yeah.”

Adrien fell into step next to her. “Is that where you go?”

Her eyes flitted to him again, judging. “I’m not telling you anything, Mr. Stalker. And FYI, there’s a cop right over there, I can turn you in right now.”

“No!” He held his hands up. “It’s actually my first day. I’m…new to this.”

“First day of pretending to be human as you infiltrate our society and eventually cause its downfall?”

“Uh…”

“Clearly you’re not doing a very good job.”

He ignored her. “It’s my first day of school. I don’t know how to get there, so do you mind me walking with you?”

She took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t want my popularity to be at stake by helping the new kid who doesn’t know how to dress himself.”

Adrien came to a defeated halt.

She didn’t look back for a few steps, but stopped. “Don’t take me seriously. I’m kidding. You know, except about the alien invasion.”

“Do you really believe in that?”

“Not at all. Come on, let’s go.”

He caught up, keeping quiet. He wasn’t going to make a single friend today at the rate this was going. He’d been hoping he’d be good with people, but why should he be when he’d been locked in his house all those years?

“For the record, I don’t care about popularity,” she said, stopping his inner spiral. “I think the whole thing is pretty stupid, trying to get into the in-crowd and please everyone else.”

He slumped. “Tell me about it.”

“You’re the one wearing Agreste.”

“They were…gifts.” He fiddled with the jacket. “I really would rather be wearing something else.”

“Like?”

“A t-shirt and jeans.” He rubbed his chin. “Maybe one with something that’s actually fun on it, like Mr. Banana.”

“Like this one?” She opened up her jacket, revealing Mr. Banana with a quote bubble that said ‘Stay Peachy!’

Adrien laughed. “Wow. You have good taste.”

“It’s meme quality,” she said with pride. “I dress up a good bit too, but today I was wanting to be a bit more relaxed.”

“I wish I could do that more often.”

“You can.” He decided not to argue. She continued, “But really, I wish more people would just be themselves. I’m tired of everyone trying to act a certain way to get into whoever’s good graces or trying to get popular. Just be yourself, you know?”

“Sometimes I wonder who I even am,” he confessed, something he’d never told anyone before.

“I guess we’re still pretty young and it takes a while to figure out. Don’t worry, you will.” She winked. “After all, you seem like a guy with all the answers.”

“No wonder I was lost.”

She grinned. “So, lost guy, what’s your story? New city? Transferring? Something traumatic that you shouldn’t feel obligated to tell me?”

“You already figured me out, with the alien thing.” He rubbed the back of his neck, almost wishing that story was true compared to his actual one. “Guess we’ll have to start over on some other planet.”

She winced in mock empathy. “Yeah, you’re going to need a better game plan next time.”

“But really, I’ve been homeschooled my whole life and I finally convinced my dad to let me go. He’s…protective.”

“I think that’s pretty typical of homeschool parents, right? It makes sense that you seemed so lost.”

He looked down. “I’m kind of self-conscious about that, honestly. I feel like I really don’t know anything about the world or how to make friends or…well, anything.”

She shrugged. “You’re doing a decent job right now, even considering your world invasion plot.”

“I’ll take that back to command. I’m not chalked up for this sort of thing.”

She laughed. His step faltered, surprised that something he’d said could cause someone else that much happiness.

She took a croissant out of her bag, shoving some sort of shoe that was excavated by her digging.

“You got cleats in there?”

“Do I look like a soccer player?”

“No, but why should anyone be judged by their looks?”

Her smile was radiant. “I’m actually a dancer.”

“Really?”

Her croissant went untouched as she launched into a leap, causing him to startle as she danced her way towards him, answer enough. It was almost like how in musicals people burst into song and dance before going back to normalcy.

She touched her croissant to his nose. “Good enough for you?”

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to be judging.”

“You’re not.” She took a bite. “But I will accept applause and adoration.”

He snorted. “You’re not at all full of yourself.”

She bowed.

“What kind of dance do you do?”

“Obviously, you saw the ballet slippers, but I do all kinds. Hip-hop, contemporary, modern…the works. Hence me running a bit behind today, too. I got a bit stuck in my head while dancing and didn’t realize it was time for school.”

“Well, I’m glad you were late, or else I’d still be panicking over how to get there.”

“I could be leading you astray.” Her eyebrows wiggled. “There are plenty of abandoned alleys in Paris.”

“You’re pretty dark.”

“Thank you.”

She took another bite of her croissant. Adrien touched his own stomach. He’d sacrificed eating breakfast to sneak out and get out of taking the car.

“Here.” She handed him half.

He took a bite. “Oh my God, this is heaven.” He stuffed the rest in his mouth. “Where did you get this?”

“My dad owns a bakery.”

“Please let me go live with you.”

“Wow, you’re forward.”

He blinked, realizing that was a weird thing to say to a girl. “Oh. No…I just want to visit your dad for food. I don’t need to see you.”

“You don’t?”

His eyes went wide. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just…the croissant was good. And if you happen to be there…”

She looked up into his eyes, lips pouting for whatever reason, eyebrows raised as if waiting for more.

“I’m new at all this stuff,” he repeated. “Don’t mind me saying weird things.”

“I kind of like it. No filter. By the way, you’ve got a crumb.” She touched her lip, mirroring where it was.

He tried to get it, going for the wrong side. He missed again, causing her to reach up for him. Her finger brushed along his lip. His breath shook. Something inside him altered, settling into place by the time her finger had left his mouth.

“You’re a bit of a mess, aren’t you?” she asked.

“You have no idea.” Because something had just happened and he didn’t know what it was. He avoided clearing his throat, as if she’d know just how frazzled he’d gotten from her touching his lip, as quick and absentminded as the action had been. “Any tips for surviving school?”

“Avoid the popular kids, Lila and Chloe especially. I’m sure you’ll have problems with them.”

“Why?”

“You’re good looking.”

He tripped on a crack in the sidewalk, grabbing onto her shoulder for support, knocking her into a wall.

He straightened, finding her pinned. She didn’t seem as startled as he was, but maybe she was just better at hiding it.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, pulling away.

“Geez, you’re unlucky.” She jabbed him in the side. “Or a klutz.”

“I wasn’t watching where I was going,” he muttered. “So…you said to watch out for some girl named Chloe?”

“Yeah, Chloe Bourgeois. The mayor’s spoiled rotten daughter.” She rolled her eyes. “Always gets everything she wants.”

“I’m sure she does,” he muttered.

The girl glanced at him suspiciously. “Know her?”

He hesitated. “I’ve heard of her.”

“Maybe you should stick with me.” She fiddled with the strap of her bag. “We seem to understand each other.”

She felt understood by him? Adrien wasn’t sure. Yes, there was something there, but he’d just met her. Was it that simple, making friends? Real friends that weren’t bought or contracted to him?

Her eyes met his, vulnerable and full of what looked like hope. “I haven’t scared you off by being an alien stalker that’s thrown himself at you?”

“Surprisingly, no.”

His lips pursed. “Seems like you should be.”

“You can always prove my first impression wrong.”

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Marinette.” She gave a very graceful curtsey. “And yours?”

“I’m…”

“Adrien! Adrien Agreste!”

Adrien looked up, realizing they’d made it to the school. He immediately wanted to shrivel into nonexistence and shield his face. He’d hoped to make it inside before the paparazzi could spot him.

“Adrien Agreste?” Marinette questioned, clearly recognizing the name, her tone slanting downward in judgment.

He shied away from her critical gaze. “Yeah. That’s me.”

He didn’t have time to say anything else as a hoard of people practically barreled into him.

“Adrien! How are you feeling about your first day of school?”

“How many girls have given you their numbers?”

“Is this going to affect your modeling schedule?”

“Is it true you’re going to appear on the new dance show?”

Adrien tried to find Marinette in the crowd, but couldn’t. He started politely extricating himself, but half of the people seemed to be students screaming his name, trying to touch him or shove scraps of paper with their phone numbers on it.

“OUT OF MY WAY!”

The noise stopped as Chloe Bourgeois strode through the crowd, parting it like Moses and the Red Sea.

Before he could escape, Chloe’s lips had smashed into his. He shut down his instinct to gag and let the kiss happen, trying not to think about the flashes from the cameras, the obnoxious babble of questions, the squeals and chatter of the other students.

After probably too short of a time, he pulled away, hoping his smirk was a normal masculine bravado of “getting some” instead of a little smug at the flicker of annoyance on Chloe’s face as he kept a hand on her shoulder, pushing her away so that she couldn’t get that close again.

Seemed like a better expression to have than utter horror. “Nice to see you again, Chloe.”

She brushed her ponytail back. “Isn’t it always, babe?”

Never.

“It’s official, everyone. Adrien and I are dating,” Chloe gushed, clinging to him like a baby koala.

“Is that true, Adrien?” the paparazzi asked.

He choked out a very forced yes before saying, “Sorry everyone, but I have to get to class.” He waved, trying not to scowl as Chloe gripped his hand tightly in her pincer-like manicure, pulling him like a dog on a leash.

“Don’t worry, Adrikens.” Chloe squeezed his shoulder and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be taking good care of you.”

“I’m sure you’ll try.”

They started towards the stairs.

Marinette stared at them from the front step, her eyes narrowed.

“That’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Chloe stated. “She’s forever a loser and you’ll do well to never breathe the same pathetic air that she does.”

Adrien stared at Marinette, impassive. He’d really, really liked breathing the same air as her. And now she looked ready to excavate all the air out of his lungs.

Maybe the dark alley thing was back on the table.

“You don’t care about popularity,” Marinette deadpanned.

“I—”

“Of course Adrien cares about popularity,” Chloe said. “He’s the most popular boy in Paris. You wish he’d give you the time of day.”

“Who knows.” Marinette shrugged. “Maybe he’d want to live with me.”

Adrien hid his laugh behind a cough. It was the first time that hope lit her eyes again, as if maybe he wasn’t Chloe’s lapdog.

But then Chloe took a nasty black banana of all things out of her purse, peeled it, and shoved it into Marinette’s chest.

Everyone was staring. Watching. Waiting for everyone to react. Marinette’s eyes flickered up to his, clearly expecting him to say something.

“Stay peachy, Marinette.” Chloe snapped her fingers. “Come along, Adrikens. It’s time to show these peasants their queen’s new king.”

Adrien stared at the mess on Marinette’s shirt, her astonished horror that was quickly turning to rage.

The cameras were still right there. If he did anything wrong, he wouldn’t be able to come back to school. If he messed up this thing with Chloe…

He swallowed, automatically following Chloe, but his mind stayed on those steps, on how he wanted to take off his jacket and cover her up, the way her arms would have fit in the too-big sleeves. How maybe he would have blown off school for a day and walked her back to her house, where they’d eat more baked goods and he’d explain his whole situation and maybe she wouldn’t hate him. How maybe he’d discover what else she could make him feel, how maybe he wouldn’t have school, but he’d have something so much better.

It was the worst mistake of his life and, that day, Adrien found out that Marinette Dupain-Cheng was the master of holding grudges.

Chapter Text

English class was the only class Adrien didn’t have with Chloe, but that he did have with Marinette. Even though Marinette didn’t so much as glance at him when he walked in the two times he’d attended, that didn’t stop him from sitting right next to her and apologizing.

Not that she answered the first day. Still, he tried again. “Hey.”

Marinette’s pencil didn’t pause despite the fact that class was about to wrap up and he knew she’d already finished the assignment.

“I’m really sorry about yesterday.”

She didn’t look at him. “Me too.”

“Why would you be sorry?”

“For even engaging with you on that street corner.”

“I promise I wasn’t trying to manipulate you into thinking I was something I’m not.”

The pencil dug into the paper. “You’re fake.”

His hands gripped his desk. “I’m not. This whole thing with Chloe…it’s not real. I’m only doing it because—”

“Because you have to be popular.”

“No.”

“You did the same sort of thing with me. You must have seen my Mr. Banana shirt when you gave me that answer of that’s what you’d want to wear. Pretending like we have the same taste so that I’d help you.”

He frowned. “I hadn’t seen your shirt. I was being serious.”

“Then wear it.”

“What?”

Her eyes met his, serious. “Wear a Mr. Banana shirt to school. Let’s see what happens to you.”

He leaned back, imagining his father’s frigid icicle eyes piercing him. “I can’t.”

She gathered her things as the bell rang. “Yeah, I figured that.”

Adrien followed her out. “Marinette. Marinette!”

She didn’t stop.

He rushed past her, blocking her, keeping his voice low as students started whispering, realizing that a celebrity was in their midst. “Seriously, I can’t. My father is making me date her for publicity.” He leaned close, face contorted. “It’s not real.”

Her head jutted to the lockers on the other side, where he noticed Chloe was watching them. “You mean you aren’t attracted to witches?”

“She’s awful,” he whispered. “You think I’d like that?”

“I wouldn’t know. I just met you yesterday. We had a very short conversation and immediately after I saw a different version of you.” She crossed her arms. “You didn’t exactly stand up for a lady in distress.”

“Because my father—”

“I really don’t care about him. You can make your own decisions to be a good person.” She shrugged. “And unless you prove to me that you’re the guy from the walk, I’m not going to associate with you.”

Marinette walked away without another word.

Chloe descended on him as soon as she was gone. “Why are you talking to her?”

He sighed. “I’m apologizing for what you did yesterday.”

“Because it wasn’t mean enough? You’re right. I should have gotten two bananas.”

Adrien shoved away from her. She followed anyway as he walked to their next class, slipping her hand into his. “Let’s get this straight. You’re my boyfriend or else my daddy isn’t going to promote yours. And if that happens, you’re not allowed to go to school.”

“I’m not really the biggest fan of school.” Adrien stared after Marinette, watching as her face softened as she comforted a girl who was crying at the end of the hallway.

Chloe followed his gaze. “You know I can make her life even more miserable, right?”

“You’re being incredibly dramatic.”

“She’s a dancer at the same academy as I am. My daddy is going to be giving out recommendations for top dance schools in the next few weeks. Scholarships. Did I mention she’s a poor baker girl?”

Marinette had talked about dancing, but he hadn’t realized she was that good. Of course she was. And if it was true that her parents ran a bakery, which Marinette had confirmed on their walk, it most likely wasn’t raking in cash enough to send her to something that prestigious without some financial help. “You’d make sure she wouldn’t get a scholarship, then?”

Chloe let her lip wobble. “It’s only been her dream since she could walk. Who could ever be so heartless as to get in the way of that?”

He stared at Marinette. She was hugging the girl, who had stopped crying and now had a smile on her face. “Want to go out tonight?”

“Do you really want to, or are you just saying that?”

His eyes glazed over momentarily, sick at the thought of what he was about to do. He slipped his hand out of hers, only to let his fingers trace the back of her palm. Up her arm. Her cheek.

He pressed his lips to hers, unable to say what Chloe wanted to hear.

But the kiss was enough.

“I’d love to go out with you, Adrikens.”

They passed by Marinette. This time he didn’t even look at her.

He promised himself to never look at her again.

/ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Days went by of his new life. Going to school, with Chloe. Classes with Chloe. Leaving school with Chloe. Photoshoots with Chloe. Social media posts with Chloe. Date nights with Chloe.

He never wanted to see her again, but she never left his side. He missed being alone in his room. Why had he ever wanted this? Why had this been the only way to be able to go outside for once?

“Adrikens!”

He swore internally, taking off down the corner. He’d ditched her on the early morning shopping spree she’d forced him to go on, letting her know he was going to get a surprise for her at a shop somewhere down the street before school started without telling her which one.
Then he’d taken off in the opposite direction out of self-preservation. He was going to have to make up for it later, but he thought it was going to buy him more than five blessed minutes of peace.

Adrien took a bunch of turns, knowing there was no way she could catch up in her stupid heels. Still, he continued at a jog, only slowing down as he converged into a crowd of people, trying to cover his face to keep from being recognized.

He paused at an intersection to catch his breath, leaning up against the side of the building.

He looked up in time to see a tiny elderly man crossing the street, calm and content despite the horns blaring all around him. Adrien didn’t think anything of the horns until he noticed a car speeding towards the man, not slowing down for the red light.

There wasn’t any time to warn him or speed up his walking—there was only time to act.

Adrien didn’t even think about the risk as he sprinted into the intersection, tackling the man out of the way, the car nearly clipping them. Their bodies smashed into the cobblestones, jarred together. Adrien hissed from the impact, but clutched the man tightly, shielding him with his body until they came to a halt.

He took a deep breath, as if steadying himself would somehow make the man be okay.

Adrien opened his arms, finding the man alert and awake with a smile on his face. “Hello, young sir.”

“Hi.” Adrien stood, pulling them both out of the intersection, where no one seemed to have noticed them both almost getting killed. “Are you okay?”

He pointed a gnarled finger at him. “You have a scratch on your forehead.”

Adrien blinked. “You almost got hit by a car and you’re worried about that?”

“It’s quite deep.”

He barely shook his head, not bothering to reach up and look despite how something wet was dripping into his eye. “Look, we need to get you to a hospital and get you checked out.”

“There’s no need. I’m perfectly fine. I’m quite resilient.” The man took a few steps, grabbing Adrien’s bag and handing it to him. “Are you content with life?”

“What?” This time, he rubbed at his forehead, wincing at the amount of blood that came away onto his forearm. “Should it matter if I’m content or not?”

“Ah. So what is life about, then?”

“Are you sure you don’t have a concussion?” He paused. “Or maybe I’m the one with the concussion.”

“What is your answer?”

“So long as you let me check in a second…” The man nodded. “Uh, I’d say the best thing we can do is try to make the world a better place? You know, good deeds, love, all that.”

His answer felt stupid, but the man smiled and grasped his hands. “You’re a good boy.”

Adrien almost blushed. He wasn’t used to receiving any praise that wasn’t related to his good looks or his father. But this…this was just for him. Still, he had to be honest. “I’m not that great.”

The man bowed his head. “Indeed, I’m sure one day you will grow into something even more miraculous than you are now.”

“You’re very kind,” Adrien said, at a loss for words.

He patted his bag. “Take good care of yourself. Thank you for your service.”

“I didn’t get to check for that concussion,” he called after him.

“So used to masks. Try living without one.”

Adrien touched his forehead again as the blood ran down his nose. Was that what he was referring to?

Adrien pulled out his phone, finding that it was at least in good shape despite the fall. But now he was running late for school. And he was bleeding. And he had a photoshoot later today that he knew wasn’t themed around how sexy new wounds were. His father wasn’t going to be happy.

He sighed, heading to school anyway. Maybe the nurse could patch him up and it could get him out of seeing Chloe for that much longer.

He’d rather be broken and bleeding than endure an extra minute with her, after all.

/ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Adrien kept his eyes closed and listened to the dripping faucet in the nurse’s office. He’d been allowed to stay for as long as he needed, which he decided was as long as it took before the nurse decided to call his father and tell him he needed to get picked up from school.

It was peaceful, being alone in the office. He kept almost falling asleep, but he figured he didn’t have a concussion if the nurse hadn’t been concerned.

Adrien thought of the crazy old man again. Despite almost getting them killed, he’d liked him. He wished he had a grandfather like that. Or any family member that would smile and give him the time of day.

“What happened to you?” someone asked.

Adrien opened his eyes, frowning at the sight of Marinette in the doorway. “I saved an old man from getting pancaked in the streets.”

She snorted. “Right.”

He leaned his head back against the wall. “Why are you here?”

“I guess God was handing out life and death situations today.”

It sounded like a joke, so he said, “Right.”

But she did look worse for wear. There was a giant rash-like burn along one of her arms and her cheek was scraped. Maybe it was some dance injury from a fall.

It was the first time they’d been alone in weeks. The first time Marinette had so much as glanced at him since he’d kissed Chloe in the hallway, sealing their fate. “Listen…I’m avoiding you for your own sake.”

Marinette went to sit on the gurney opposite of him, starting to clean her arm. “Wow, thanks Edward Cullen.”

“I mean it. If I talked to you, Chloe would become an even worse Godzilla. You want that?”

“Godzilla would decide life on land wasn’t worth it and go scampering back to the sea if he met her.”

“Exactly.”

“You’re totally reading my thoughts right now.” She pressed the gauze to her cheek. “It’s like we’re connected.”

His eyes lit. “Really?”

“No.”

He slumped back against the wall. “Whatever. It wouldn’t have worked out anyway.”

“What? Being fake friends?”

“Real friends.”

“You don’t know what real means.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“Oh, I’ve done some reading.”

His eye twitched. “Because everything in those magazines is so accurate.”

“I’m obsessing over your pant size, because apparently that’s something people asked you that you decided to answer.”

Adrien stared at her, hard. “It’s not the worst size questions anyone’s ever asked me.”

Her cheeks reddened. “That’s not anything I’d search.”

He found a clean part of his towel and pressed it to his forehead.

Marinette came over to his cot, sitting next to him. “Can I see?”

Adrien didn’t breathe as she raised the towel, running her fingers over the scrape. His eyes watered.

“Klutz,” she said under her breath, her hands falling away, brushing against his cheek, most likely on accident.

But he couldn’t help but be revived by the contact. “You’re the nicest person I know.”

She grabbed a fresh cloth, wetting it and placing it on his forehead again. “I’ve been mean to you since the banana thing.”

“I’m dating Chloe.”

“Touché.”

“I promise, Marinette.” His hand curled around her wrist, tentative and gentle. “I’m real.”

Her eyes lowered. “If you can’t be real all the time it doesn’t count, Adrien.”

He disagreed, but he dropped his hand. She went back to her cot. When the nurse came in, he left, straight out the doors and back home. His sanctuary away from his newest prison.

Chapter Text

Despite his career in fashion, Adrien wasn’t the best with makeup. He tried to cover the cut, but to no avail. He didn’t even think it was healthy to put makeup on something so fresh and big, but he’d risk infection over getting scorned by his father. It was stupid that he’d have to choose between so many evils, none of them being lesser.

He grabbed his backpack, hoping to do some homework to distract him. He unzipped the bag, finding a strange wooden box the size of his palm inside.

Adrien peered at the intricate carvings, wondering if Chloe would have slipped it into his bag without his knowing as a sort of present. But that didn’t sound like her to be thoughtful and, even if she was thoughtful, she would have gotten him something she would have liked, something gold and flashy, and not something as old and ancient as this.

Maybe one of the creepy fangirls at school had slipped it inside without his noticing, but he’d barely been at school that day and there was no one else he could remember that would have had time to slip something into it.

Hesitantly, he opened the box, finding a pair of silver earrings inside. No sooner had he noticed the earrings when a bright light appeared out of nowhere, dimming until a little red creature appeared out of it, floating in midair in front of his face, its sapphire eyes big and sparkling.

He didn’t move, hoping it wouldn’t attack. When it didn’t do anything, he said, “Hi?”

“Hello, Adrien.” Its voice was feminine and cute. “My name is Tikki.”

“Nice to meet you?” He backed away, not having expected it to talk back. “Mind me asking what you are and if you come in peace?”

“My name is Tikki. I’m a kwami, a magical creature that grants magical powers to my holder.”

He put a hand on his chest. “And…that’s me?”

“Precisely. You are now the holder of the Ladybug Miraculous, a special jewel that grants the power of creation.”

He touched his forehead, which must have hit the ground harder than he’d thought. “Uhuh…”

“You’re not hallucinating, Adrien.” Tikki touched his cheek, the feeling very realistic. “This is a dream come true!”

“A dream,” he repeated. “A dream that knows my name and sounds like it’s a character from the Care Bears.”

Her cheeks puffed out. “I’m not a bear.”

“I figured that out, thanks,” he said weakly, reaching out and gently poking her very large head, which she frowned at. He pulled away. “And as much as I want to know what you are, I’d really rather know why you’re here.”

“Paris is in trouble.”

She explained that some guy named Hawk Moth had his own Miraculous that akumatized people (because apparently that was a word).

By the time she was done, he was sitting on the couch, feeling like he needed a therapy session. “So…he sends butterflies out to…spread evil?”

“Yes!” Tikki grabbed onto his nose, shaking it.

He wrinkled it, causing her to back away. “How do you know this guy’s evil villain name if he hasn’t done anything yet?”

“The kwami of the Butterfly Miraculous was able to send us a message, but we haven’t heard from him since.” Her antennae drooped. “We don’t know who Hawk Moth is. Nooroo is in a lot of danger, as is all of Paris!”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” He put his hands together, squeezing tight. “I don’t even know how you got in my bag. What if you’re working for him? Who gives some teenage model super powers? Or maybe he’s actually trying to do something good with your friend?”

“It won’t be obvious until Hawk Moth attacks, but my powers are the only ones able to stop him.” She flew closer, landing on his clenched hands, using those big blue eyes of hers. “I’m not making this up. I need you to be my holder so we can keep Paris safe from him and recover his Miraculous.”

He didn’t miss how she completely ignored how she’d gotten into his bag. “And you seriously aren’t magical enough to do it yourself?”

“Kwamis need a holder to stabilize their magic. Otherwise, we cause catastrophic damage to the world around us.”

“Right…” He was probably going to have to revisit that point later on. “But why me?”

“You’re pure of heart.”

He laughed. She didn’t. “Oh. You’re not kidding?”

“No, of course not.” She sat in his hand, letting him study her. “We kwamis are very good at knowing these things.”

Sounded more like an exaggeration to him. No one was completely pure of heart. “I’m not a super hero, Tikki. I’ve got enough on my plate as it is.”

“You saved someone today without powers.”

“Yeah, but what was I supposed to do? He was going to get run over.” He let his fingers slowly come down, as if to squish her.

She floated away. “That’s the point. Heroes always act when they see something awful happening to someone else.”

He looked away, remembering Marinette’s banana shirt. “You need someone else.”

She grabbed the earrings, placing them in his hand. “Please, Adrien. Just try.”

He stared at the silver. This whole thing was crazy. There was no way a little magical creature was talking to him right now, claiming earrings of all things were going to give him powers.

Whether she was a figment of his imagination or not, her eyes were gigantic and pouting in a way he couldn’t resist.

“Fine.” He grimaced. “But only because you’re so cute.”

Which, on second thought, might be some sort of evil manipulative power she used to get people to do her bidding.

He flinched when she giggled and flew up to kiss his cheek. “Put them on. You know what to do.”

Despite her explanation, he wasn’t so sure, but he guessed there was only one way to find out. He put the earrings on and said, “Tikki, spots on.”

He was expecting nothing to happen and for Tikki to exclaim that it was some sort of elaborate prank, but all of the disbelief fell away as scarlet took over his body, speckled with black dots.

Adrien stared at himself in the mirror. The suit was surprisingly masculine for being ladybug themed, with a lot of black—his biceps, gloves, and sides. The gash on his head was gone.

A polka dotted mask fit his face. He tried to peel it off, finding it glued to his skin. He unhooked a circular spotted device from his hip, something Tikki had described as a yo-yo. He opened it, finding a screen.

“Pretty high-tech for magic,” he murmured to himself, extending the string and trying to bob it up and down, trying to figure out how it worked.

Adrien stretched his arms. He was about to either look really stupid or really cool. He cast his yo-yo out the window, latching it onto a spire nearby.

He tugged. It whisked him out the window, his scream trailing after him.

Adrien smashed into the wall of the building next door. Yep, stupid. As predicted. He fell into a bush. He scrambled upright, surprised to find he hadn’t broken any bones. It was a miracle no one had seen him.

He tried the yo-yo again, this time getting himself onto a roof. He was faster than his normal self, stronger. He could do flips, parkour, and probably fight, too. Not that he had anyone to practice that with.

Adrien held back the little excitement he felt over the revelation. This was still too weird to be true. There had to be more of a catch to getting the freedom to go wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted (so long as he wasn’t caught, at least).

Something lit up within him like a spark of recognition.

He turned, finding a girl observing him. She was wearing a suit as black as a shadow and a mask that held wide, green eyes.

Adrien tried not to look her up and down suspiciously. “So, you’re the Cat Miraculous holder?”

She ran a clawed fingertip over one of her cat ears crowning her black hair. “What gave it away?”

“It wasn’t the meowing, given you’re not doing that.”

“I’d purr if you gave me reason to,” she promised.

He made a face, too used to pushy fans to find the flirtation harmless. Still, he tried to keep an open mind. Besides, he was the one who brought up cat jokes first. “First day on the job?”

“If that’s what it really is.” She smirked, jutting her hip out, extending a claw. “Can you even fly?”

His lips thinned. “It’s not like you can.”

“No, but no one expects that from a cat.” She stuck out her tongue, pretending to lick her hand, as if it was a paw. Gross. “I’m guessing you’re the one Plagg was talking about, then?”

“Is that your kwami?”

“Paw-cisely.”

His nose shriveled. “That was bad.”

“I think puns might be my super power.”

“You better get a refund, then.”

She grinned. “It wasn’t that pawful.”

Ugh. He put his yo-yo on his belt. “As for your question, Tikki is my kwami and she said we’re supposed to be the new saviors of Paris.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

His shoulders tightened. “Don’t think I can do it?”

“Oh, not at all,” she said airily. “I don’t think I can.”

“Then why are you here?”

She shrugged. “Same reason you are, I guess. Curiosity if this was real, which hopefully won’t kill me.”

“Did Plagg tell you about Hawk Moth?”

“I was hoping he was the fake part of all this.”

“I don’t think it is.” He looked across Paris. “I know we’re both new to this…but the kwamis seem to be sincere, honest creatures.”

She snorted. “You must have gotten a very different kwami than I did.”

Tires screeched on the streets below. Without thinking, he jumped, sensing the cat girl didn’t follow. But that didn’t matter now—not when someone was in danger.

He hit the ground like he’d hopped off a bench, not a five-story building, landing right in front of the scene. By then, the car accident had already happened. Half a dozen piled up vehicles behind a bus. Adrien spotted a car at the very front, its wheels continuing to edge over the side of a bridge, the metal shuddering as it began tilting towards the water.

Adrien forgot about his yo-yo, which wouldn’t have done him any good anyway since he didn’t know how to use it, as he ran to the car and grabbed the trunk, trying to haul it back, inch by inch. Some people climbed out, but he lost sight of them as the pileup continued, growing closer and closer. He didn’t have room to put the car back on solid ground. But it didn’t matter, with everyone out of the car.

“My baby!” a woman screamed.

Adrien noticed child’s head in the back seat. His muscles strained, but he couldn’t magically make room—

“Cataclysm!”

The bus behind them dissolved right before his eyes, revealing the cat woman, who ran up behind him, grabbing onto the hood in his stead. “Get her out!”

He bit his lip, not sure how to climb into a car that was now filling with smoke, its wheels groaning as the bridge started to collapse, sending them careening even closer to the edge.

But he did it anyway, hoping his partner could hold them. He smashed the glass in, the car barely on its back wheels now, tilting towards the water.
The little girl was in the seat farthest from him, crying.

"We're going to get out of here," he said it with a confidence he didn’t have. "Climb to me."

"Fire," she stuttered through her tears.

And there was fire. A lot of fire, coming from the engine.

"I know, it's scary," he said. "But as soon as you're in my arms, I'm going to jump out. And I'm a super hero. Nothing can hurt me and so long as you're in my arms, it'll be okay."

He hadn't dared to reach out and shift the weight of the car. "If you climb over, I'll let you hold onto my magic yo-yo for me. Then you can make the fire go away."

She started climbing, whimpering. The car continued its sliding, the debris blocking its path to the water disintegrating.

"You're doing great. Keep going," he breathed, starting to reach his hand out. He couldn't use his yo-yo, not when it would take too much movement. He didn't trust the car would roll the way he needed to keep her from getting hurt and trapped in the river below, even with someone helping.

“I can’t hold it any longer!” the cat girl yelled.

“You have to!” he yelled back.

But her fingers must have released, because they fell. He thrust his body forward, grabbing the little girl, smacking his head in the process. For a few seconds, he must have blacked out, because by the time he opened his eyes, they were half submerged in water and she was screaming.

He kicked the door out, grabbing the girl, finding that her jacket had snagged on a ripped piece of metal. A giant air bubble escaped, her eyes closing.

His eyes widened. His lungs burned as he struggled to get the jacket off of her, taking far too long. Finally, the fabric came off. He forced her body up and away from the wreckage and to the surface, coughing as they broke the surface.

It didn't take long to swim to the edge, but every second counted. There were people around him, screaming, and he didn't care. He performed the CPR himself, grateful for the one life skill he actually knew, listening to her chest for a heartbeat. He needed some sign of life. Some hope that he hadn’t messed this whole thing up.

After a violent expel of water, her eyes cracked open. She took deep breaths and, after a moment, she smiled at him a few baby teeth missing. A smile that wouldn't have ever graced the world, if he hadn't been there to do something.

Thank God, he thought, fingers trembling.

Adrien let the parents and medics come forward, ignoring the press that had gathered. His cat partner was gone, but that didn’t concern him as he waited through the medical tests, wanting to make sure the little girl would be okay.

And she was. He’d saved her. And her parents, too, but it was different, having her look at him with the ultimate trust, the sincerest form of adoration. Because he’d done something worthy of it, something that stupid Adrien Agreste couldn’t have done.

And maybe that’d been what the man had meant earlier. Despite this mask on his face, maybe this was who he really was.

He stood tall, flitting away on his yo-yo before they could ask him who he was.

He still wasn’t sure yet.

Chapter Text

Marinette sat crisscross on the hard wood floor of the dance studio, head on her knees.

She’d royally screwed that up.

Plagg had said his power was hard to control, but that hadn’t worried her. She’d thought it’d be a breeze. And it’s not like it was his power that had messed up—it’d been her. Because when it came down to taking action, she’d froze. When it’d come to saving the little girl, she hadn’t been able to do it.

But the ladybug guy had.

"You know, the Cat Miraculous holder has usually taken the backseat through the centuries,” Plagg commented, floating lazily around the room. “It’s more our job to have fun and keep the Ladybug one from getting a massive stick up their butt.”

Marinette glanced up at her kwami. “I was useless.”

“Not at all! You destroyed that bus and that helped him out, given he couldn’t push it out of the way himself and needed the room.”

“I dropped the car.”

“She’s alive, right? No worries!”

“But I am worrying.” She twisted the ring. “I’m not the right person for this. I’m a wimp who can’t do what has to be done.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Plagg flipped upside down. “You stand up for people all the time.”

“Yeah, but that’s easy. That’s not lifting a car that’s on fire or fighting a super villain.”

Plagg snorted. “Don’t worry about all of that. It’ll get easier with time.”

“I’m doubting that.” She looked at her phone, finding another article recommended to her about the ladybug hero. She opened it, finding hundreds of comments calling him hot. Her face soured. “They don’t even know him.”

“And you do?”

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and say I probably know him better than they do, given we’ve actually interacted before.”

“Ooooh, jealous already?”

She put her phone down, standing up and stretching. “Not at all. He’s a hero. They’re fans. I’m his pathetic partner who isn’t good at anything and he probably doesn’t like me.”

“Then go talk to him, silly.”

“Later.”

“’Fraidy cat.”

She shooed him away as she heard the rest of the students coming in. “I have to practice. Go eat some cheese.”

She’d known Plagg less than a day and she already knew the names of ten new cheeses—and had been given the pleasure of purchasing them too. Eternally toting around a bag full of stinky cheese was her life now.

Marinette danced, letting her body work through the frustration, the disappointment. The competition tryouts would be soon. She had to be ready.

After a while, the other girls started filtering into the studio, as did their instructor. She was always the first and last one there, of course, which suited her just find to get some time to herself.

A few hours in, a certain perfect prissy someone came in to start stretching.

“So nice of you to grace us with your presence, Chloe,” their instructor said.

“It is, isn’t it?” Chloe replied. She was really bad at sarcasm.

Marinette heard a gagging noise from her bag and kicked it gently.

Chloe strode over to her, hip out. “I have news for you, Dupain-Cheng. My daddy isn’t giving you that scholarship.”

Her face fell. “You would seriously do that to me?”

“Do it to you? You’re the one screwing me over, going after my Adrikens.”

She scoffed. “I seriously don’t care about him. He’s a jerk.”

“As if. And even if he was, he’s a hot one.” She held a finger up in accusation, pointing directly at her nose. “Why else would anyone be all over him?”

Marinette tried to ignore the way her chest fluttered in his presence. As attractive as he was, that hadn’t been the first thing to catch her attention. She stuffed the feeling down, letting it smolder into a vengeful storm. It was easier to hate him.

She started taping her ankle, trying to ignore Chloe’s incessant brat vibe. She shouldn’t even be dancing at the same level as them, but of course she got whatever she wanted.

“I guess you’ll just have to win the spot to be on that new television show, then.” Chloe batted her lashes. “Did I mention my daddy was in charge of that too?”

Marinette snapped the tape in half accidentally. Chloe laughed. “See you at tryouts, Dupain-Cheng.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Marinette muttered.

She’d been wanting to get into a prestigious dance company since she’d gone to see her first ever professional ballet. She’d wanted to be the one on stage, captivating everyone with her presence, dancing like it was effortless, living and breathing the music as it wove its magic through the audience and into the story unfolding in her very limbs.

And, as usual, Chloe was there to get in her way. It’s not that Chloe wasn’t good at dance, but she was still mediocre and didn’t deserve the spotlight like she claimed. And even if Chloe was just as talented as Marinette (which she wasn’t), Marinette was the one bandaging her feet and going home to ice her entire body after hours of grueling training while Chloe only came to practice in between shopping trips and social media posts.

Marinette deserved the scholarship, not Chloe.

And Chloe didn’t need the scholarship anyway. Her father was the mayor.

Marinette wanted to throw something at the glass, have it shatter down around her like her hopes and dreams.

A piece of paper fell out of her bag. She bent down to see what Plagg had started messing with. It was her dance schedule for the week, with the date the dance show’s coordinator was supposed to come and pick someone to be on the show circled. A tiny little cat was scrawled into the date’s square. Their teacher had hinted that whoever got to dance on the show would probably achieve some pretty big things, considering they’d be on live television.

Maybe even company big.

Marinette smiled. “Maybe I’ll get lucky.”

Her bag rustled. She took her place and started her routine again, determined to stay until the studio shut down for the night, and most likely even long after that.

/ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

The studio's lights glinted off the mirrored walls, the hardwood floor somehow not what Adrien was expecting under his feet. Adrien swallowed, wanting to walk right back out of the room as he started comparing himself to the blood, sweat, and tears presently dancing their hearts out. His fame had been gifted to him by his father. His good looks weren’t something he had any control over and his entire career had nothing to do with his own talents, or lack thereof.

But these girls were different. There were about a dozen and, unlike any other time he entered a room, each of them was completely focused on their dance to the point where a fire could have started and they probably wouldn't have noticed. Each kept in sync with another, weaving through a complicated series of moves that required perfect timing so they wouldn't run into each other or kick one other in the face.

Except for Chloe, who he spotted a bit off from the other girls, struggling with choreography that looked effortless to everyone else.

He tried to ignore her, but it was hard to with his father’s voice still ringing in his ears, If you want to make decisions about your future for yourself, you have to do this.

Adrien tried to get back to enjoying the beauty of their skill, but his jaw was still locked.

One of the girls stumbled in one of the steps as Chloe bumped into her. Right at that moment, another girl passing by steadied the other's arm, continuing on with the dance as if nothing had happened.

Adrien focused on the kind girl the rest of the dance. Each of the girls had their own personality they used when they danced, but this girl had a determination behind the moves that he couldn't describe. Like if she didn't dance, she died. Like if she didn't give her everything, there was no point.

And yet she'd paused to help her fellow dancer.

They were all dressed alike with their hair up in buns, but that didn’t mean they were all alike. The girl he watched didn’t have the willowy long limbs and figure he’d expected for a professional ballerina, which helped him feel a bit better, as if she’d understand people trying to shove others into stereotypical boxes.

Their routine came to an end. Most of the girls met his eyes, hopeful and not looking at him with the recognition he was expecting. They were probably masking their actual reactions, given that they were professionals. Except for Chloe, whose smugness was as obvious as rancid month-old fish baking in the sun.

His stomach dropped.

"I would recommend Chloe or Lila." The instructor gestured to the two girls, who both gave dramatic, ballet-like bows from their positions, batting their eyes. "They are extraordinary dancers."

Chloe scowled. She probably hadn’t expected the instructor to say someone else’s name along with hers. He barely glanced at Lila. Since he’d started school, she’d maneuvered herself into practically every single one of his classes somehow. Even when he was called away for photoshoots, she found an excuse to leave the classroom at the same time. Worse, she always had something to say about meeting some celebrity or some new skill that made her expert-level at practically everything.

What she didn’t know is that Adrien knew most of the celebrities she claimed to and, after some casual questions about them, he’d figured out she didn’t really know them at all. He didn’t trust her with anything, much less to be his partner on this show.

“Who do you choose, Adrien?” the instructor asked.

Choose? Him? He was actually being given the option?

Some cameras had followed them in, but he’d been ignoring their presence. He was used to cameras—though now they were probably zooming in on his face, waiting in suspense for his answer.

It must have been an angle his father had crafted. Adrien knew who his father would presume he’d choose. He could see the headlines now—Adrien Agreste Chooses Sweetheart.

He couldn’t do it.

His gaze followed the only girl, the one who had saved her fellow dancer, who had stepped back to the barre, already practicing again, as if the results didn’t matter to her. "I want her."

The girl with the bun stopped using the bar, blinking as if coming out of a trance. "What was that?"

"I'd like to dance with you," Adrien said, well aware that every eye in the room was on him and probably about to rip the girl he'd chosen to shreds for gaining his attention.

As he got closer, he realized a potentially crucial mistake—the girl he'd picked was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

/ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

I’d like to dance with you.

The words were repeating over and over in her head, like a series of Fouettés. She knew that the show was supposed to be with an inexperienced celebrity, but she thought she’d get a soccer star, or a swimmer, or maybe even an ice skater. Someone she’d never heard of, didn’t care about, and whose athletic prowess could be molded and used to benefit their dances.

She had never in her wildest dreams expected Adrien Agreste.

Marinette hadn’t even seen the camera crew come in. They’d purposefully kept their time of arrival hushed and their instructor had made them do their routine over and over again. No, there hadn’t been a screen to block her from seeing a giant group of people come in, but Marinette couldn’t help it. When she danced, she lost herself.

But now she could see Adrien perfectly, staring at her expectantly.

The word was out of her mouth before she could control it. “No.”

He looked surprised. Like maybe he’d expected that he was doing her a favor by picking her. What an idiot!

She walked away, towards the mirrors, her salvation. Trying to ignore the cameras, wishing she could go back to being oblivious of them. Now they were huddled around, trying to pick up on every juicy detail of their conversation.

Her instructor followed, leaning in. “This is a lifetime opportunity and I am insisting you take it.”

“By insisting you mean forcing me?” she whispered.

“I know what happened to your scholarship. This is your last chance.”

Marinette bit her tongue to keep from screaming. She already endured hell from Chloe on a normal day, even when she purposefully avoided Adrien. What was life going to be like now that she was dancing with her boyfriend?

But Chloe didn’t matter. The stage mattered. Her dream mattered. Above all, dancing mattered.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Wonderful.” Her instructor led Marinette, whose feet dragged, over to him. “Adrien can help develop your passion. Your emotion.”

“Excuse me?” she blurted out. She was going to be the one teaching him, not the other way around.

Adrien shifted away, mute.

A very long list of rules, expectations, and everything they needed to know about the show was rattled off to them. Marinette wasn’t listening. She was too numb. She doubted she could even dance with the way her mind was whirring right now.

As her instructor wrapped up the details and the cameras left, she said, “The producer will go over the shooting schedule with you, I’m sure. As for my own studio, feel free to use it whenever you need to. It’s not against the rules to practice more.” She slipped a key into Marinette’s hand and one in Adrien’s. “Please make sure to lock up, yes?”

Marinette found themselves alone, somehow avoiding a Chloe conflict. She must have gone home to scream at her dad.

She faced Adrien, waiting for him to say something, but then decided against it. She was the one in charge, after all. This was her profession, not his. “I saw a glimpse of the schedule. It’s not enough time to teach you to dance. Shooting is at night at seven. Before that, you’re meeting me here for three hours.”

“You want us to dance six hours a day?”

“I already dance six hours a day.” She watched his face pale. “I’m sure your precious father will adjust your schedule for this.” She bowed her head, giving a sarcastic curtsey. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Agreste.”

She went back over to the mirror, shoving her stuff into her bag.

His reflection loomed over her. “I didn’t know it was you when I picked you.”

“You knew I danced.”

"Yeah, and I knew you danced with Chloe, but I didn’t know you’d signed up for a potential spot in the competition. Plus your hair is up and until you stopped spinning around in a blur it didn’t register."

"Are you saying I'm not good enough?"

“No. It's just we're in Paris where dance is kind of a big deal." He continued after her silence, "I can go ask her to pick some other girl if you're that against it."

"Wonderful." She threw the water in her bag. "Thank you."

His face resembled a sad puppy. “I thought you’d be happy to dance with me.”

She stood up. “That’s your problem, Adrien. You think everyone is so happy to be around you, like you’re gracing the world with your presence.”

“That’s not how I feel at all.”

“I don’t need another speech about how you’re such a real person and this is all just some stupid thing your dad is making you do.”

“But it is.”

“And oh, I should be so grateful you didn’t pick Chloe, who doesn’t need another reason to hate me.”

“I picked you because you’re good.”

Marinette sighed. “You don’t know anything about dance to know if I’m good or not.”

"You helped that other girl.”

She frowned. “So?”

“So that makes you a good person. Just like when you helped me that first day of school.”

She looked up at him. “And here I am, about to be ashamed of national television of your talentless dancing and get overlooked for an opportunity to dance professionally again. Thanks, Adrien. You’re a real help.”

He grabbed her hand. “I’ll do my best. I swear.”

Her eyes narrowed, but he squeezed and didn’t let go. She slipped her hand free. “I’ll see you here tomorrow morning, bright and early.”

“I’ll be here. I promise.”

Don’t make promises you can’t keep, she thought, already expecting the worst.

Chapter Text

That night, Marinette wore her black suit. It was the first time since the car fiasco. She wasn’t exactly ready to face the ladybug guy, but she was far more ready for the Ladybug Miraculous holder than she was to train Adrien Agreste.

She sat on a rooftop, looking down at the city, no one bothering to look up and notice her. It was nice, for once, to be invisible, to merely observe without anyone being the wiser.

She felt his presence without looking. “Plagg said we’d be able to sense each other.”

“So did Tikki. Clearly they were right.”

She stood and faced him. She didn’t typically care about looks, and she hadn’t really cared about his appearance until he’d pulled the little girl out of the water and brought her back from the dead. He’d risked his own life, jumped into action, and been so perfect through the whole thing. There was nothing more attractive than selflessness and that was all he seemed to be.

It didn’t help that there was some part of her connected to him through magic that had started growing inside her, somewhere near her stomach. It told her when he had transformed, whether she was transformed or not. It told her if he was far or if he was near. She never sensed him if he wasn’t transformed, but she figured if they ever did become real super heroes that it would come in handy to know if help was on the way.

Not that she was any help.

“Bad day?” he asked.

“You have no idea.” She flopped over onto her back. “Not that we can talk about it, given our supposed secret identities.”

“It’s kind of nice not having to talk about myself,” he mused.

She peeked at him, annoyed at his perfection again. “Everyone would want to hear about you, though. You’re the hero, after all.”

“So are you.”

“Have you not been keeping up with the news? I made a mess of things.” She looked away. “Sorry.”

“Don’t believe what people are saying about you. Destroying the bus helped. They just don’t know how your powers work yet and that we’re a team. I can talk to the press if you want me to.”

She hadn’t really read anything about herself after the first article with comments about how she was a villain destroying public property and the ladybug guy’s arch nemesis who must have started the accident in the first place. She hadn’t cared to read lies and that wasn’t what bothered her about the whole thing.

“Plus I really should have used my other power, the swarm of ladybugs one that apparently fixes everything before a disaster happens.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But I’m not sure if that really works unless it’s a magically induced disaster. Either way…I could have tried.”

“I’d rather us avoid the press until we know what we’re doing.” Her claws came to her stomach. “I thought we could practice a bit tonight.”

“We need to get to know each other too.” His eyes met hers, steady and focused. “Did you decide on an alias?”

“Is that really what’s most important?”

A smile graced his face. “Do you want me to call you Kitty or Furball instead?”

“I will claw your eyes out if you did that, Lady Cow.”

“Lady…what?”

Marinette crossed her arms. “I’ve been doing research. In other places ladybugs are called Lady Cows.”

“Is that legit?”

“I don’t know, Lady Cow.”

He cleared his throat. “Okay, I think we’re in agreement never to have nicknames, then.”

She hesitated. “I was thinking to call myself Lady Noir.”

He nodded in approval. “I like it. Simple and elegant.”

“What about you?”

“I can’t be Ladybug Man, Ladybug, or Lady Cow.”

“What about Lady Man?”

His revulsion made her laugh.

He sat back. “I was thinking maybe Aphid.”

“Don’t ladybugs eat aphids?”

“Yes, but I was looking into the symbolism.” He pulled out his yo-yo, showing his search results. “And it looks like in a lot of cultures they represent transformation, humility, good luck, and even rebirth.”

She couldn’t help but be hyperaware of their sides touching. “A lot of these cultures agree it means fertility.”

He closed the yo-yo. “That wasn’t exactly my go-to choice for symbolisms I’m aiming for.”

She grinned, kicking her legs. “So…Aphid?”

She did like the sound of it. He may not really look like the actual bug, but it fit him. It was a nice short, strong name.

He smiled at her. Something fluttered in her chest, probably her magical whatever sensing how close he was. She took a deep breath. “So…ready to test our powers out?”

Aphid stood, extending a hand towards her. He was cascaded in the light of the full moon behind him, causing his outline to radiate stars.

Her hand fit perfectly in his as he lifted her up. She stood too close, mesmerized by his calming, confident aura. Despite being new at this, the role fit him perfectly.

“Let’s go, my lady,” he teased.

She gulped, following him over the rooftops of Paris, dashing after him as if her life depended on it.

                                                                             /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Marinette counted the seconds until the door opened and an angel of God strutted his ego-filled self into her studio. “You’re late.”

The look on his face filled her with enough rage to fuel a routine. “By five minutes.”

“By 342 seconds, but who’s counting?”

It’s not like she’d gotten here half an hour early, warmed up and ready to go with three hours of sleep after committing to saving Paris from whatever evil magical forces decided to attack. It wasn’t a big deal that Adrien was already blowing her off on day one and not taking this seriously.

She was half hoping to piss him off enough to get him to decide on another girl. Would that mean she’d be forced off the show? Yes, but maybe she could figure out another way to fulfill her dream. Heck, people made it big on YouTube and other platforms with so much less experience and talent.

But I don’t want to be famous on social media, she thought, I want a stage.

Adrien’s bag hit the floor with a resounding thud. “I’d say five minutes is better than an hour or not showing up at all.”

Marinette strode over to him, patting his chest. “Well done, Adrien. I’m so impressed you took time out of your busy schedule for us mortals to worship at your feet.”

His jaw locked. “I’m here now. Let’s get started.”

“As you wish, master.” He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “If you haven’t noticed, this is my altar. From now on, there won’t be any idolization over you. It’s about learning how to dance and that’s it. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” he muttered.

She didn’t take the bait. “Let’s get this straight. I’m here for my chance to get somewhere in my dancing career. You’re the last person I wanted as a partner.” She poked him in the chest. “And that is never going to be made apparent to the cameras.” 

“What happened to being real?”

“This is television,” she stated. “Television, like you, isn’t real.” 

He shifted, as if he had to hold back his argument.

“This isn’t America’s Dancing with the Stars,” Marinette said. “It’s a completely new take and I actually get to make all of our choreography and musical decisions, along with plenty of other decisions.”

“Like if you’ll murder me before the first episode premiers?”

“Precisely,” she said. “And you clearly got to make a decision too—who your dance partner was. That’s not a decision that most shows allow for the dancer or the star because the producers want to make sure they choose based on personality compatibility.”

He stepped closer, somehow not balking. “You don’t think I could make a compatible choice?”

She held back a scoff. “You made a stupid choice.”

“And choosing Chloe would have been the match of the season?”

“You are with her.” And she didn’t want to hear any more about it. “Did you even read through the paperwork?”

His lips thinned. “I skimmed it.”

Marinette sighed. Did she have to do everything? “This show is meant to highlight not only French stars, but upcoming French talent. And while most people are coming to watch you for your gorgeous green eyes, some people are going to be gambling over the fates of the dancers. Only the winner gets their pick into a company of their choice, or even an opportunity to go into show business—basically the sky’s the limit. The others might get offers, but for anyone who really wants something…”

“They need to win,” he filled in.

Her shoulders fell. “The point is, as bright as you are as a star, the drama is going to focus on me. If this show will break me. If I can really shine and make a place for myself on the stage.”

“You can.”

“Life’s not that easy, Adrien. Your light was handed to you.” She couldn’t help but be a bit envious of his angelically radiant hair and flawless jawline, along with the rest of his perfect body. “It’s in your genes.”

"Doesn’t mean anything if I don’t do anything meaningful with it,” he mumbled.

“You better use your smile for something. Otherwise we’re never going to fake liking each other.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll be nice to you on camera. Interviews, when we’re being recorded during our training sessions, whatever. But when we’re alone?” 

“I’m foretelling a lot of yelling at me for not pointing my toes.” 

“And a whole lot of other things.” She jabbed at his stomach. “Suck that in.” 

He gave her the most perplexed look, like she’d just asked him to recite the periodic table and turn into oxygen. “But we haven’t even started?” 

“We start the second our feet touch this floor.”

Normally, she’d have him warm up by stretching. As much as she was looking forward to how excruciating that was going to be for every single one of his muscles, she just couldn’t help but want to actually get started. They had a timer ticking down, after all.

She walked over to the barre and went into first position, heels together, toes out, her hands in front of her thighs, arms rounded gracefully. “Do what I do.” 

Adrien shuffled his feet, his arms straight, wrists bent like a rusted robot.

Marinette knew training a complete beginning was part of the show. If she’d had some other random celebrity, she wouldn’t be batting an eye at not knowing how to dance yet. But for some reason, because it was Adrien, every incorrect thing she did made her want to explode.

She really needed a stick to jab at him. “Keep your arms relaxed. Not straight, but curved.”

He overdid his adjustment. Now they were bent.

“Look in the mirror,” she said. “Try to match my position.”

He jutted his head out this time, hands lax, elbows flapping as he tried to stay loose and failed.

Forget it. She had to do it herself. “You look like a deranged, head bobbing pigeon.”

His voice strained as he held the position, way too tight. “I really don’t know what’s bird-like about anything I’m doing right now.”

Marinette rounded him, grabbing his arms, running her hands down them. “Curve, like that.” His wrists were next. “We’re not broken ragdolls.” Her hands came to his shoulders. “Shoulders down, but stand tall. Through your spine.”

“My spine?”

“Breathe up, imagining your spine extending towards the ceiling.” She took a deep breath in example, her chin coming up slightly. “See? I’m taller, but my shoulders stay down.”

His face crumpled as he tried to focus. “How’s this?”

Nope. “Better.” Her hand came to his stomach. “This should always be tight. And your legs should be together like you’re squeezing a melon between them.”

He let out a breath, his voice calmer than she’d expected it to be. “I knew ballet was complicated, but you make it look so easy.”

Ha! she thought. As if his compliments could win her over. Still, it was nice that he wasn’t acting like he expected ballet to be a walk in the park. “When standing in front of the barre, make sure not to stand too close or too far away.”

She taught him first and second positions through a series of barre exercises, throwing in a mixture of criticisms, “Stop sticking your butt out. No, put pressure on your two largest toes, not your pinky. Don’t roll your ankles. Always look where your hand is going at that part. Curves, Adrien. Don’t bend your leg!”

“For the record, I probably work better with encouragement than all the negativity,” he said, almost toppling over for the hundredth time as he worked his way through the exercise.

She placed her fingers on her temples, as if by staring at him like that she would develop the superpower to turn him into a perfect dancer. Stranger things had happened. “For the record, I’m not sure you’ve earned me being super nice to you.”

“That’s fair, but we’re going to have to work together, Marinette.” He faced away from the barre, wincing and rubbing his leg. “I’d rather this be at least somewhat fun for both of us.”

“We’re going to be going over the basics for a really long time and doing a lot of stretching,” she replied. “Until your flexibility and balance are better, this is going to be really difficult for you.”

His frowned. “Can you at least dance for me? Show me why we’re doing this?”

She worried her bottom lip. She didn’t want to give Adrien anything he wanted, but at the same time she itched to dance. And, an added bonus, to show him how it was really done. “Fine.”

He lit up. “Do you think maybe you can show me how you combine different types of dance too? I’m super interested in what you’re cooking up for us.”

Yet again, she didn’t want to buy his puppy dog act. It threw her off that he wasn’t being more offended by her treatment of him. She thought he’d quit by now.

She kept her guard up, not looking at him as she turned on a song to a routine she’d created just for fun and got into position.

Marinette wasn’t one to boast about herself. If she got good grades in class, volunteered, or helped anyone out, she kept it to herself. But the one thing she could help but be was one hundred percent sure that she was an amazing dancer. She didn’t shout it from the rooftops. Dance wasn’t like that. Dance spoke for itself.

She wanted her dancing to punch Adrien in the face.

She put everything she had into her routine, smooth transitions, flawless technique, creative choreography. And she knew he wouldn’t even realize how innovative she was, how he would never be able to find this sort of fusion dance online, how she was tearing apart the very reality of ballet and making it her own.

Yes, she was a ballerina, but there was more to dance than just ballet. How could she say no to all the rest?

Marinette hit the last pose, the song ending. Her shoulders and chest rose and fell as she gracefully stepped out of her dance-self. It was as jarring as stepping out of a book and back into reality.

He was staring at her as if he’d never seen something so amazing in his life. She tried not to look flushed or sweaty or raw, but she had just put every last ounce of energy, of hope, she’d had into her dancing.

The only sound was her labored breathing as she walked back over to the mirror, unable to look at him or her own reflection.

“I want to win this for you,” was all he said.

It was the only thing she wanted to hear. “You better mean it, Pigeon.”

She knew he heard what she didn’t say, Because you didn’t mean anything you said to me the first time we met.

He went to the barre without being told, starting the first exercise again.

Marinette’s eyes lingered on his bad posture, her eyes smarting. It was one thing to have a beginner and another to have someone she couldn’t trust.

Chapter Text

“He’s horrible, Plagg,” Marinette complained.

Plagg inhaled another piece of cheese. “He’s a beginner. I think that’s what beginners are supposed to be.”

Since meeting Plagg, she had learned that his personality was made up of snark, laziness, and cheese. She hadn’t known cheese could be part of a personality before, but her tiny magical garbage disposer had proved her wrong.

Still, he was a wonderful companion when it came to pigging out (while whining about the fact that she ate so many healthy foods while he gorged on cheese), complaining about Chloe, and making sure she wasn’t accidentally trying to kill herself via exhaustion. He always tried talking her into kicking back and relaxing, which wasn’t her strong suit at all, especially given her current crisis.

For some reason, Plagg had less skepticism towards Adrien than she had, but she chalked that up to him not being there when they’d met. 

She flopped onto her mattress. “He’s a noodle without any balance or athletic ability.”

“Who needs athletic ability when all he does is smile for a living?”

“But he’s so toned,” she retorted. “He probably works out all the time. And yet his body’s flexibility makes my schedule look flexible.”

“We all know that needs some trimming.” Plagg hovered over her head. “Still, you have to work with him for the next few months, right? Maybe you should go easy on him and things might get better?”

She snorted. “It’s not like he can get any worse.”

                                                                          /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Maybe he could get worse.

“Do I really have to wear this?” 

Marinette downed a pill, feeling another headache coming on. Funny how they were always caused by Adrien Agreste. “It’s standard for ballet students.” 

“I thought we were doing more than just ballet.” 

She wondered if teaching Adrien to dance was anything like having a child, dragging their feet, whining, and asking way too many questions as they floundered to learn the basics. “We are, but wearing this is going to help you see your posture and what needs to be fixed.” 

Which, right now, was everything.

He pinched the fabric on his torso. “Skin tight…things.” 

She tossed her water aside, standing. “I’m sure you’ve had to wear worse for modeling.” 

“Unfortunately.” He adjusted his shirt again, looking ready to pick at the back of his tights. “I still hate this.”

“You look nice.”  

“I do?” he asked suspiciously. 

Marinette blinked. She had been thinking through the choreography of their first dance routine she’d come up with and the words had slipped out without her permission. “Whatever I have to say to get you to dance, Pigeon.” 

His lips formed a familiar, disgruntled pout. “Are you going to keep calling me that every time you talk to me?”

She crossed her arms. “Until you don’t move like one, yeah. Is that a good incentive?”

“Let’s just start the torture for today, shall we?” 

It seemed like her grumpiness was rubbing off on him. She pushed him over to the barre before he could protest, already spieling as many dance terms and pieces of wisdom as she could before he started groaning. 

“Can we at least walk to our first recorded session together?” he asked.

They’d gotten a week of practicing by themselves before being forced to get recorded. So far, he hadn’t made much progress—not that she needed him to be perfect (yet), but it was still disappointing to show up with a rusty robot instead of someone who actually knew what they were doing.

Even Plagg had started getting bored of hearing her chastise Adrien for every toe out of line and had told her to start toning it down. He’d even fashioned himself a pair of earmuffs with some cotton balls he’d found. Didn’t he understand how important this was? And how could she be nice to Adrien, the liar and boyfriend of Chloe?

She glanced at him. Adrien looked pretty innocent, wobbling his way through conditioning. She didn’t buy it. “No, we won’t walk together.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m trying to avoid spending more time with you than I already am.”

“I’d say that hurts worse than these things you’re making me do, but still.” He did a plié. “Ouch.”

She jabbed at his side for the dozenth time since he’d walked through the door. “Stop bending forward.”

Marinette ignored the rustling of her bag. Next time she’d have to buy him more cheese to keep him from butting into her business.

After another hour, Marinette and Adrien went to the recording studio separately. Really, it wasn’t a recording studio at all, but a dance studio they’d rented out for the show. Despite being at home on a dance floor, Marinette couldn’t help but be nervous. It was one thing to dance in front of a live crowd with a pre-choreographed routine and another to have cameras watching your every move as you fumbled with your sworn enemy of a partner.

“It’s worse training in front of the cameras,” Adrien whispered to her as they stretched.

She kept her face angelic, her words barely making it out. “I’d thought you’d be used to smiling in front of them.”

“Not when I’m in excruciating pain.” 

Despite their first lesson, a lot of her time the first week with Adrien was focused on stretching. He was clearly not a fan by the amount of griping he did. They were going through the basics as well, but the basics were going to be way easier if he was flexible and his limbs didn’t mind going absolutely anywhere like jello in an earthquake.  

“Did you think we’d just be counting to eight over and over every day?”

He laughed, but cut off abruptly since he was doing a middle split, which probably caused an even more delicate burning. “I’d be way better at that.”

She placed her fists on her cheeks, smiling up at him from her own middle split. “The great Adrien Agreste can’t handle the competition?” 

He groaned. “Don’t flaunt your power.” 

This time, she laughed. “My power?” 

“I bet that doesn’t even hurt.” He lifted a hand, trying to swat at her. He missed. “Ow.” 

“Not in the slightest.”

She got up, pushing him back onto his butt. 

“Ow again.” 

“You’re such a baby.” Again, she realized they were being filmed. She cleared her throat. “I might as well start showing you some choreography I was thinking of.” 

One of the crew members strode forward. “Actually, Marinette, I was hoping to do a short interview with both of you before you started.” 

Marinette tried to shove all her choreography back in her mind, a very difficult task. Since they’d arrived, it’d been mostly interview segments, though individual. How they felt about the show, her dance experience, even trying to get any sob stories out of her when it came to life struggles. She was sure they would have milked anything she gave them like she was some orphaned war hero whose only dream was to dance.

Nope. Her interview segments were to the point—she’d been dancing since she was little, she loved it, and she was good at it. End of story.

After Adrien and Marinette settled into their chairs, the interviewer clapped her hands together, as if to signal they were starting. “We happened to find one of your routines online.”

A television was rolled out of nowhere before she could protest. Marinette wanted to sink into her chair and disappear as a very old video displayed on the screen.

“Wow, that’s you!” Adrien exclaimed, enraptured.

Yes, it was a past tiny her doing a routine that had won her a competition. But all she saw was all the places she’d failed in execution.

“This is amazing,” Adrien said, unable to stop gushing about her as he watched. “You’ve always been so talented.”

Her cheeks pinkened. To try to make up for being ruthless, at the end of each session she would dance for him. He always said ridiculous things as he watched. That, or he just sat there with his mouth open.

Silly Pigeon.

When the video was over, he whistled. “I’m going to have to go home and watch every single one of your routines now.”

“No! That’s embarrassing,” she retorted.

He pulled out his phone, pretending to search for them already. When she grabbed for it, everyone laughed.

Marinette pulled away, pretending to give up. Adrien’s eyes slid to hers. He smiled.

Was he being purposefully charming for the cameras? Building her up so people found her more likable than she actually was? Had he not listened to anything she’d said to him about not wanting to become some sob story or Internet drama?

Still, she couldn’t imagine the story he was weaving going poorly. It was just making the facts a bit more emotional and showing that maybe she didn’t hate him as much as it probably looked from the outside.

Maybe he was doing her a favor.

“It seems you two get along relatively well,” the interviewer said. Marinette tried to keep a straight face. “How do you feel about dancing with Adrien Agreste?” 

“Honestly I was a little apprehensive at first.” And by a little she meant completely. “This is my first time instructing at this level and I really want to make sure I’m a good teacher.” 

“You didn’t seem happy for him to choose you,” she said.

Marinette tried not to panic. She’d already thought through an answer. “It was a case of nerves. I was dying to be a part of this show, but Adrien is basically France’s biggest star. His face is posted at every street corner.”

“I hope she didn’t hurt your feelings, Adrien.”

“Not at all. We’ve talked it out.”

Both of them were wearing pasted smiles now.

“It is a shock that you hadn’t picked your girlfriend to dance with on the show, Adrien. What did Miss Bourgeois have to say about that?”

“The reason I didn’t choose Chloe is because I wanted to make sure that my partner and I could focus on dancing and do our very best. If it were Chloe and I, I don’t think that would have happened.”

The interviewer put a hand on her heart, as if he was the best boyfriend of all time. Marinette was trying not to retch from the image, even if Adrien had phrased it in a way that didn’t make it clear if he could focus on dancing or not if they were together.

“How would you rate Marinette’s teaching so far, Adrien?” 

“Well, she kicked me today and I went down like a sack of potatoes.” 

Marinette laughed along with the lady, making note to repay him later for mentioning that.  

“But really, she’s a good teacher,” Adrien said. “I’ve learned a lot so far, but there’s a lot of work that still needs to be done if we have any shot at winning.” 

“From the looks of things, you’re a fast learner,” the interviewer said. 

Adrien gave a humble shrug, which Marinette felt forced to reply to, “He is. He’ll be a professional in no time.” 

Like hell he will, she thought vehemently. She’d been dancing her entire life. You didn’t become a professional at it in months. 

“I’m sure you know that the competition will feature different types of dance, not just ballet. Are you worried that you may not be able to wow the judges?”

Marinette kept her annoyance from showing. “As you saw in that video, I actually grew up practicing all sorts of styles of dance, not just ballet. This just happens to be the one I ended up sticking with because it matched how I wanted to express myself.” 

“Would you have picked a different type of dance, Adrien?”

“I was expecting to look like a fish out of water either way, but I’m grateful that I have Marinette as my partner.” 

Marinette took a step back, trying to indicate that she was done answering questions. They had work to do. 

“Speaking of partners, one thing we’ve been noting is the chemistry between them,” the hostess said. “How would you two rate your chemistry on a scale of one to ten?”

Marinette replied before Adrien could say anything stupid, “Chemistry is really important when it comes to dancing. A different combination of partners could lead to a lot of amazing spontaneity and fun, or could lead to a flop of a routine. I feel it’s a bit early to tell if any contestants really have that chemistry yet when our partners are still learning the ropes.” 

“A lot of other contestants have said otherwise.”

“I guess we’ll have to start the actual competition to see if that’s true or not, won’t we?” Marinette said sweetly. She grabbed Adrien’s hand, probably seeming a bit too possessive or couple-y with him, but she didn’t care. “Come on, Adrien. We need to work on your turns.” 

“Oh, my favorite.” He must have realized he’d let sarcasm slip out, because he added, “At least I think they will be once I get the hang of them.” 

He was a lying liar. 

From the looks of things, the camera crew was packing up. Marinette took off the giant sound pack they forced her to wear and Adrien did the same. She had Adrien do a good hundred turns until they left. 

He sucked at spotting. 

As soon as they were alone, he whispered, “You have absolutely no filter.” 

“I’m sorry. I’m a dancer, not an actress. But you’re great at acting, given the waterfall of gushing you did about my dancing.”

Adrien frowned. “That wasn’t acting at all. You’re seriously good and I want them to know that I endorse you. You’ve more than earned your spot.”

“And what was with you mentioning me pushing you over?”

“You kicked me.”

“Your leg wasn’t straight.” 

“So that’s just an excuse to kick a guy?” 

“I thought I made the objectives clear the first day.” 

“You laughed at one of my jokes before that interview,” Adrien reminded her. 

“For the cameras. You’re not actually funny.” 

“On the day we met—” 

“I don’t remember laughing at anything you did.” 

“Can we maybe start over?” 

Start over, after everything he’d done, or not done? Sure, they were in the competition together and were spending insane amounts of time together. Sure, he didn’t seem so bad. Sure, she needed to win this… 

Marinette hesitated, trying not to stare too deeply into those perfect eyes of his. “I—” 

“Adrikens!” 

Oh, dear lord in heaven. Marinette wanted to run and hide, but squared her shoulders as soon as Chloe was on her floor, throwing herself at Adrien. He almost collapsed under the weight due to his wobbly legs. 

“Adrikens!” She kissed his cheek. “I’ve missed you. This whole dance competition is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. When are you going to be done today so we can go out?” 

Marinette was so going to enjoy this. “You can go out right now. There’s the door.” 

“Excuse me?”

“Class is in session. Get out.”

Chloe swung a hip to her side, crossing her arms. “I’m staying to support my boyfriend.” 

“You’d like to stay?” Marinette asked icily. “Then come do arabesque conditioning with us.” 

“Uh, gross. I don’t need any.” 

“Then we’ll see you tomorrow at school.” Marinette turned without another word. “Adrien, to the barre.” 

He went willingly this time. She couldn’t help but get a kick out of how he’d rather have his muscles burn for hours on end than stand the presence of Chloe. 

Or maybe she was just reading into things. After all, they were dating. 

Marinette grabbed the giant exercise ball from her things, turning around to find Chloe pressed up against him, lips locked.  

The ball squeezed in her hands as she watched. It wasn’t just that Chloe had shown up here during their private time or hadn’t listened to Marinette. No, she just had to make out with her partner too, as if anyone would ever want to kiss her. 

And yet he was. He was reciprocating. Chloe was the one who pulled away, a very satisfied smile on her flawless face. 

“See you tomorrow, Adrikens.” She waved, strutting out of the studio. 

She was surprised the ball in her arms hadn’t popped. 

Adrien swallowed, flushed. “Marinette—” 

“You’re going to do these until you pass out.”  

She threw him the ball, which he almost got smacked with. “I’d rather do turns.” 

“You would? Because you’re sucking at those too, Pigeon.”  

Adrien put the ball down. “All the more reason to practice them.” 

She gripped his shoulders, forcing them to face her before stepping back ten paces. “Look for me.” 

He tried and under rotated.  

“Look for me.” She did one of her own, hoping he saw the way her head spun faster than her body. “Like that.” 

His next turn went too far. 

Marinette stormed up to him until she was a foot away. “Look for me.” 

“I’m going to hit you.”

“Not if you pretend you have a steel beam running from the ceiling to the floor that you’re connected to and can’t step out of.”

He shuddered as if imagining her putting a spike through him herself. His foot raised in relevé, his arms in a decent less flabby position than normal as he spun. Adrien’s eyes found her before the rest of his body did. It adjusted, but he still wasn’t ready to stop smoothly and took the step towards her, almost stepping on her foot. She brought a hand up to his chest to keep him from plummeting into her, another on his lower back to start adjusting his positioning again. 

Adrien breathed heavily, his eyes still on her by the time she was finishing her corrections. Her gaze fell on his lips, causing a rush of annoyance. Chloe had kissed those lips. He had kissed her back. There was no reason for her to ever think about them except with irritation that Chloe would ever be allowed to kiss anyone—and that anyone would let her. 

“That was better,” she found herself saying. “Try again.” 

It wasn’t normal to try to spot something so close, but for whatever reason, that’s what worked for him. She didn’t like it, not when it made his chin tilt down and his body even more like a dancing dead corpse, but at least it started driving the point she was making home. It also helped to catch him at the completion of the turn, making sure he knew how to do so with elegance and grace instead of his normal sasquatch theatrics. 

“I hope if you landed a plane you’d do so more gently than what you do with your body,” she chided. 

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m not a plane.” 

Still, his next turn was adequate.  

“Is the bottom of my foot supposed to feel like the skin is falling off?” Adrien asked. 

“Yep.” 

“Oh, good.” He wiped his brow in mock relief. “I thought I was doing something wrong.”

She tried not to look at his grin. She decided to be nice and not mention that most everything he was doing was still wrong. “You didn’t get out of the arabesque training.”’

“I didn’t think I did.” 

“I’ll do it with you,” she offered.  

Not that she normally didn’t do things with him, and he usually seemed to find her company in the things aggravating since she didn’t show any sing of pain while doing them, but it seemed like the nice thing to do. 

“Thanks, Marinette.” 

His eyes were too soft for her liking, his skin sweating from hours of trying to win her over.

His lips too swollen from kissing.

She went over to the barre, away from the spot where Chloe had infested with her cooties, and started her own reps without another word.

Chapter Text

Adrien had sworn Marinette had been about to open up to him the other day at practice—until Chloe had ruined it. It’s not like he could tell her he was being blackmailed for her own sake. Marinette didn’t even buy that he was fake dating Chloe despite how he kept insisting it wasn’t real.

It was frustrating to watch her interact with people at school with so much more warmth and then, as soon as she saw him, freeze over with disgust. He was doing absolutely everything he could to become an actual dancer for her and she didn’t seem to appreciate it.

Were all the other famous people dancing every extra minute of the day? No. Did he ever actually complain about her or say he wasn’t going to do the competition without an assortment of demands? No.

Was he getting absolutely sick of the way he was being treated? Hell, yes.

He paused in the middle of writing notes in class, the premonition of Lady Noir’s transformation filling him. The feeling itself was hard to explain and something he was still getting used to. It wasn’t a mental touch and he couldn’t physically feel anything, it was more like sensing someone was standing right behind you, except that Lady Noir could be anywhere in the city and he’d still feel it.

Adrien excused himself to the bathroom a few minutes before class ended, taking his bag with him. The stalls were empty. He transformed, finding that he had a missed message on his yo-yo asking to meet up to “figure all this out.” He assumed that meant their powers and the roles they were supposed to be playing.

It still didn’t feel real. Hawk Moth hadn’t attacked. The only weird thing was he now had a little floating genie-like creature the size of a tennis ball that requested cookies and dressed him in body-length tights if he said the magic words.

He ran a hand through his hair before messaging back a meeting time.

By then the bell had rung. Adrien transformed back and hurried out the door, almost running straight into Chloe. He bit back all the irritable things that swarmed into his mouth, ready to sting.

Chloe’s eyes narrowed. “You were in there a while.”

“I had to poop,” he deadpanned, watching Chloe’s face contort. Little comments like that were the only ammo he had against her awfulness.

“Don’t be gross.” She clawed at his arm, holding it in her vice grip. “We’re better than that, Adrikens.”

They’d just started walking in the direction of their next class when Marinette came out of the ladies’ bathroom.

“Ask her if she pooped,” Chloe said, too loudly, as usual.

“I just had a great poop,” he stated to her. “Chloe has this fetish about people pooping.”

Marinette let out a tiny cough of a laugh.

“What are you laughing at, baker girl? Make like a bee and leave.”

“Actually, it’s make like a tree and leave,” Adrien corrected.

“Well, she’s a bee and I demand she gets the hell out of our space!”

“My pleasure,” Marinette muttered.

He gave a small smile. Marinette frowned, hurrying away in the opposite direction.

Well, that could have gone better.

Chloe hit him. “Adrikens! That’s not what I said.”

“Oh.” His eyebrows pulled down in mock confusion. “I thought you told me to tell her I pooped.”

“No!”

“That makes way more sense. Sorry, babe.”

The “babe” seemed to appease her. He never called her cute nicknames unless there were cameras around and he was forced to. Plus they made him want to vomit more than poop ever would. She crossed her arms. “Fine. But never talk about the p word again.”

He spent the rest of the school day pretending he wasn’t there, thinking about Lady Noir and hoping she wasn’t stuck in the same misery.

The only good part of his day was during English when Marinette passed him a note that said, I was pooping too.

It didn’t seem like her style of humor, but maybe she was just as thrilled to take Chloe down a notch as he was.

Or maybe she didn’t hate him as much as she did yesterday.

He settled into that hope that maybe their relationship could change. He just had to keep working at it.

                                                                              /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Lady Noir stood at their agreed upon meeting place, trying to keep from being nervous. Now that reality had set in and this whole super hero thing was real and that she’d accepted the role, it was time to get down to business.

With her partner.

She couldn’t help but smile when she felt his presence. It was a bit like someone you loved returning home after a long day apart. Except she didn’t know Aphid, which was why it was a bit unsettling to think she had that sort of attachment to him.

Aphid strode toward her. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

Awkward silence.

She shied away from looking at him, as if he was direct sunlight. He exuded golden boy energy, perfect at everything with apt leadership skills and the natural instinct of doing the right thing to do at any given moment, like he had with the car crash.

“I was hoping we could work on figuring our powers out,” he said it like a question.

“I was too.” She tried not to let her fingers fiddle. “I want to be able to work together better than we did the other day.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. Seriously, we’re new at this.”

Lady Noir bit her lip. “So…did you have any training in mind?”

The last time they’d met up, they’d practiced running over rooftops like ninjas and some parkour, which had been pretty amazing, but still not exactly the most important of things.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t have any combat skills at all, but Tikki was acting like we’d know what to do.”

“I’d still rather get some practice in before it’s a life and death situation.”

Their eyes met, nervous.

“Never thrown a punch before?” she asked.

“Never clawed anyone’s eyes out?”

“As much as you hate being called Lady Cow, you’re really asking for it.”

“You don’t seem to have any problem with verbal sparring.” He stepped closer. “I guess we should try a different kind of combat.”

She was already swinging at him. Her limbs seemed to move on their own accord, blocking and launching themselves. His did the same, both of them inhumanly fast. Lady Noir extended her baton to get away, but he knocked it over. She landed on her feet, but he had already swept her legs, his feet caught in hers.

She landed on her back, Aphid right above her.

Oh.

He breathed heavily, his suit making it easy to see his torso rising and falling. His eyes panicked, darting over her face. “Sorry.”

"Don’t be.” Did that sound like she was glad she was in this position with him? She mentally shook herself. “I’ve been going easy on you is all.”

“Is that so?”

She was never flirty with boys. It’s not that she never wanted to be in a relationship, but until she got into a company, time was of the essence and she didn’t have any to spare on pretending she was the main character in some cheesy romcom.

So it was a bit of a shock when she realized he actually had her interest, no matter how small it was.

Or maybe she just wasn’t used to a guy being on top of her.

Her face clouded over in annoyance. “Are you going to stay there all day?”

“I—”  

But, as Plagg had promised her, she knew what to do. Her ankle entwined around his and, with a twist, she was the one on top of him, enjoying the deer in headlights look in those dreamy eyes of his.

She smirked, leaning close to his face. “Pinned you, little bug.”

He squirmed for a moment, but she held tight. “Are you going to squish me?”

Lady Noir cocked her head to the side. “I think I’ll keep you around to play with.”

“That didn’t sound sexual at all.”

She blinked, realizing yet again just how sensual of a position they were in. One of her hands was on her chest, the other on his wrist, holding his arm down by his head. Despite the almost chastising tone of the comment, he didn’t look uncomfortable by their position.

Her grip tightened on his wrist. “Are you used to women pinning you down, then?”

“Not at all.”

Then why was he being so nonchalant about the whole thing?

“You’re no challenge,” she sniffed, getting off him, trying not to appear shaken.

He stood up. “You’re just scared I’d actually beat you at something.”

Lady Noir laughed, then extended her baton, aiming it at his face. He dodged, but barely. The fight happened in a blur of acrobatics, kicks, and punches.

She was able to use his yo-yo string against him, grabbing the end and tying him up. He stumbled, unable to move.   

Lady Noir tightened it, baring her teeth as she held back a hiss.

“Okay, fine. You win. I surrender,” he breathed in a rush.

She undid the tangle, stepping away as if the whole thing was beneath her.

“Are you mad at me now?”

“Don’t underestimate me.”

She was so tired of people underestimating her. The baker girl, Chloe called her. As if her parents’ bakery somehow fated her to fail, which didn’t even make any sense because it was the most famous bakery in all of Paris. Then there were people who said she’d never make it as a professional dancer. But now she was on a dance show.

Marinette didn’t need anyone telling her what she couldn’t do.

His hand reached for hers, pulling her knuckles to his lips. It was a slow, careful gesture. One that sent her nerves crashing. “I’m sorry.”

What was he trying to do, exactly? Flirt with her? Or was he just being dumb and didn’t realize that the gesture was way too romantic for whatever relationship they were supposed to have?

She took her hand back with a harrumph. “It will serve you well next time.”

Another silence descended. It didn’t line up with her expectations. Most super hero teams in movies clicked so well, like they’d known each other their entire lives.

Lady Noir cleared her throat. “You know…we don’t know anything about each other.”

He tapped his mask. “I think that’s kind of the point.”

She held in her pout. “Still, I think we could at least know little things, like if you’re allergic to peanuts.”

Aphid blinked. “That’s a little thing?”

“Well, sure. What if someone attacks us with peanuts and you’re deathly allergic? I need to know this.”

“I’m not allergic to any foods, but thanks for the concern.” His mouth quirked up. “Are you afraid of dogs?”

Her nose shriveled. “I love dogs, thank you very much.”

He held up his hands in defense. “I’m just making sure. We never know when a giant dog might attack us. I need to know if your hackles get raised.”

Lady Noir scowled. “I’m being serious about getting to know someone my life is going to be in the hands of a possible peanut allergic guy.”

Aphid took out his yo-yo, seeming indifferent to her concerns. “Wow. You have a deep hatred for people with peanut allergies.”

She grabbed it from him, forcing his attention on her. “Look, we don’t know each other and that’s fine. But…don’t you think we should at least try to get to a point where we can trust each other despite not knowing each other at all?”

He walked to the ledge, staring at the moon. “You’re right. I just…I don’t know how to do this.” His jaw locked as if he regretted admitting that to her. “This is as new for me as it is for you. And thinking about going against someone who basically wants to destroy the world is…”

There really wasn’t a word for it.

“And lately I’ve been pretty pushed away by people, so I’m not sure how to do the whole partner thing, especially when we’re meant to keep secrets.”

“Then we’ll start simple.” She tugged him down as she sat on the ledge. “I really love pajamas.”

“Pajamas?” he repeated, disbelieving.

“Pajamas.” She kicked her legs. “Going home and getting all snuggly? Plus some of them are so cute.”

He let out a short laugh. “That’s the first thing you’re going to share about yourself?”

“I have no regrets.” She nudged him. “Your turn.”

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“Just a little thing, Aphid. Nothing too personal.”

“I know. I’m just coming up blank.”

“You’re a deep sort of person, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say that…”

Lady Noir rolled her eyes. He couldn’t fool her. “What topic have you been thinking about lately, then?”

“Relationships, I guess. All the ones in my life are really complicated.” He hunched forward. “I was hoping whatever we make of ours would be something we could both rely on. Something that won’t break.”

She wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. Did that mean he had a girlfriend? Was he the one who complicated things, like the classic overthinker he seemed to be? Was he friend zoning her, or asking for something more?

Either way, she had to reply. “I want to be dependable, Aphid. With Paris on the line, we have to be. As for your other relationships…” She let her hand rest on his. “I hope they get better.

He gripped it once in a squeeze before standing. “I guess we’ve been sleep deprived long enough.”

She tried to keep her disappointment from showing. “So long as you promise me that every time we meet to train that we tell each other one little thing about ourselves.”

Her heart swelled when he smiled and said, “It’s a promise.”

                                                                            /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Adrien was kind of glad they were in the training part of the show despite how hard it would be. He had a few months of avoiding the spotlight, which was the opposite of what Aphid and Lady Noir had been doing, given all of their late night training sessions.

He’d kept his promise to Lady Noir, making sure to share one random fact about himself that wouldn’t lead to her uncovering his identity and she did the same. So far he’d found out that she detested orange, lived in tights, and had an eye for anything artsy, though it was more because she kept talking about color combinations and interior design trends more than because she’d said so herself. He’d learned plenty of other things too, but those were the ones that had stood out to him.

He never knew what to tell her when she expected a response in return when he wasn’t allowed to have a life and had been homeschooled until recently, so he stuck with a lot of food preferences. He was running out of those and needed to think of a different topic to get him through the next week or two, given they’d been meeting up every night.

As much sleep as he was missing out on, it was actually nice to have someone who actually wanted to talk to him. Lady Noir switched between flirtatious, ferocious, and shy, which usually threw him off. He wasn’t sure who he was as Aphid (not that he really knew who he was as Adrien, either), so it was a hard time trying to be natural with her when he wasn’t sure what natural was.

She didn’t seem to mind, which was nice when Marinette minded every little thing he did.

If he could have a fun relationship with Lady Noir, who’s to say that wasn’t part of the solution to his problems with Marinette?

Which was the mindset he went into as soon as he arrived at the studio that morning, two weeks into their training sessions. “That’s a weird flex.”

“What?”

Adrien stopped stretching, pointing to Marinette wiping a scuff mark off one of her canvas ballet shoes. “Your obsession with your shoes.”

“I’m not obsessed, they’re just dirty.”

To be fair, her bag reeked from keeping her slippers in there. Not that he would tell her that her feet must stink, but he’d learned not to go near her duffel.

“Don’t you go through multiple pairs a week? What does it matter?”

“Those are pointe slippers.” She held up the ones in her hand. “These are different.”

There was always something he didn’t know. He sighed. “I don’t know, Slippers.”

She put them by her bag, crossing her arms. “Yeah, you don’t get to call me that.”

“You call me Pigeon. I think I win when it comes to thinking up good nicknames.”

“Unless the point was to come up with an excruciating nickname, in case I win.”

That did it. He grabbed one of her shoes, dangling it in front of her. She scrambled to get up, rushing after him. “Give it back.”

“Aren’t we ever allowed to have a little fun? Besides, it’s my turn to be the teacher.” He held the slipper higher. “Sissonne for it. Come on, land on the opposite leg.”

She jumped. “That’s not a sissonne, it’s a jeté!”

He tsked. “You’re doing it wrong. You have to go up to go down to go up!”

It had been one of the many stupid, convoluted things she had told him to do.

Marinette let out some sort of animalistic screech. Before he knew it, she had literally started climbing on his body, hooking her legs around him, reaching as far as she could in his outreached hand.

He stumbled into the wall, her fingers still unable to grab it. Adrien swallowed, not used to having a girl wrapped around him.

Marinette stopped reaching, settling herself so that she was face to face with him, fingers curling painfully into his shoulders.

He wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction that it hurt. “Hey, Slippers.”

“Give it back now or I’m going so far down on you—” She seemed to realize what she was saying, scowled, and changed course. “I’m going to go so hard on you—” She gripped harder. “You won’t walk for a week!”

Adrien laughed. His sides hurt, his lungs trying and failing to take in enough air, but he couldn’t stop.

“You know exactly what I mean!”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Tears were forming in his eyes. “You just kept going.”

She started crawling up him again. “Give it back!”

He conceded and she hopped right off, only turning back around to smack him with it. “You’re such a pervert.”

“Me? You’re the one who said all those things.”

“And you know I would never, ever mean any of them in that context with you!”

He faltered. It’s not like he was interested in Marinette in that way. Heck, he just wanted to be her friend and go through a day without a death glare getting thrown so casually his way.

“Look, maybe I went about the wrong way of trying to have a fun moment with you, but you can’t work me this hard without giving me any pleasure.” He made a knowing face at her, hoping she picked up that yes, he had said that on purpose.

“Nothing is pleasurable about any of this,” she muttered.

“How about we both try to make it fun?” he offered. “We don’t have to hate this. I’m clearly past debating to quit, which I hadn’t thought about doing once, by the way. And if you hadn’t noticed, the physical torture is more than enough suffering for a guy.”

She sat down, both of her slippers now pulled on as she started to stretch. “Baby.”

He sat opposite of her, extending his pinky. She reached hers out tentatively.

The hope on his face shattered when she gripped his wrist, pulling him lower into the stretch, which was accompanied by his new best friend—Pain.

“I’m still calling you Slippers,” he said, earning another yank of his arm, causing him to whimper.

But no matter what she did, she couldn’t take that away from him.

Chapter Text

Despite Adrien’s lack of experience, Marinette had started giving him a routine to do to get used to memorizing dance steps while also practicing the basic moves she was teaching him.

He’d discovered that dancing was way harder than he’d anticipated, that counting to eight wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be, and that he had absolutely no grace, which shattered everything he thought the catwalk had taught him.

He was used to aching muscles from being forced to exercise, but he was using muscles he didn’t even know he had. And whose idea was it to make ballerinas put all their weight on their toes anyway? Probably the same guy who designed high heels and corsets. Marinette had gone on for a very long time about the history of why ballet was the way it was because of corsets, which he had not listened to because he had been too busy trying not to visibly shake, stick his butt out, or bend his legs.

Did he mention pointing his toes? Because it was about time for his daily every ten second reminder to point his toes.

He went through the routine she’d taught him for the thirty-second time in a row, gasping as soon as it was finished. At least he got the finger positions right in the end pose and shouldn’t be called Edward Scissorhands again. Or Jack Skellington. Or E.T.

She got really creative with the insults. She could easily write a book to help evil overlords be toxic or become the next dancing judge Simon Cowell or Gordon Ramsey if she wanted to.

And she said she didn’t have options besides dancing for all eternity. Psh.

Adrien forced himself to stay standing, his legs wanting to melt into a puddle on the floor. “Okay, what was wrong with it?”

It’d been too many long nights with Lady Noir in a row, too many dance sessions with Marinette, too much school work, modeling, and worst of all, Chloe time. He was surprised he hadn’t passed out a few hours ago. He could imagine waking up in a hospital room, Marinette’s face peering down at his, giving him some critique about how he fainting the wrong way before yanking him from the gurney, demanding more.

“Or are we done for today?” he asked, too scared to look at her.

Too long passed without hearing any criticism before he heard, “Scalloped potatoes are the worst kind of potatoes.”

Adrien turned to find Marinette sitting against the mirrors, shadows under her closed eyes, her head drooping.

He walked over, collapsing next to her by leaning against the mirror and scooching until he was on the floor, unable to bend his knees. “Is that what you’re having for dinner?”

Or some she was just making up new dance phrases to confuse him.

Her eyes fluttered open, finding him. “Oh. No.”

“You better keep that fact to yourself, Slippers. There might be another French Revolution over that.”

She groaned, putting her head down. “As if I needed anything more added to my plate.”

“Besides scalloped potatoes.”

Marinette batted at him, missing, almost falling over before catching herself.

She must have been exhausted if she was sitting here talking to him about anything that wasn’t dance. He decided that was worthy of exchanging information. “I don’t like football or tennis, the most French sports.”

“I bet you don’t like any sports.”

“I think I’d like sailing?”

“That’s such a rich person thing to say.”

So much for his attempts at bonding.

Marinette let her legs fall, leaning her head back. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been…too much.”

“I know how important this is to you.”

“You haven’t complained.” She inhaled. “Well, you have complained. A lot. But you haven’t really complained about me.” Her head turned to look at him. “You ignore the one mean thing Chloe did and I do all these mean things in revenge and still…nothing.”

He shrugged. “I meant it when I said I don’t want to fight.”

Her head lulled again. “I’m too tired to fight. Even if I don’t know you.”

Adrien decided to use one of his facts he’d been saving for Lady Noir, something a lot of people could probably say. “I’ve never been to the ocean.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“We should go sometime.”

Adrien almost held his hand up to his ear. There was no way she’d said that. And, if she had, she was clearly going insane. “Really?”

“Really. But we’ll have to wait until the competition is over, of course.”

He smiled. That sounded more like her. “Of course.”

Adrien rested his head against the glass, letting his tired muscles relax, hoping one day she really would go to the beach with him.

                                                                           /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Adrien woke up with a crick in his neck.

Then he realized where he was—still at the studio, Marinette resting against him as sunlight poured through the windows.

They’d somehow sprawled out since falling asleep, probably unconsciously uncomfortable with sitting up, her bag supporting their heads as a pillow.

He was spooning her.

Adrien tried not to panic, imagining the rage Marinette would unleash on him for being so close to her in this sort of position, overnight of all things. As if he’d planned it.

I wonder if she’d be upset about my form when it comes to this, he wondered in irritation—not that he’d ever ask.

He was stuck between the mirrored wall and her, with no room to move.

And of course that was when Marinette decided to roll over, her leg coming to rest on top of his, her head burying into his chest as she let out a soft, peaceful exhale.

Adrien forced himself not to pull her closer, whether out of habit from dancing, panic, or desire, he didn’t know. Well, not desire. That was crazy talk.

But her body felt so right against his. And he wanted this sort of actual closeness with her. Not for her body, but for her trust. If she really liked him enough to be this close, to talk to him about seemingly insignificant details of their lives, to not only sweat and bleed together, but also do this, wouldn’t that make them friends?

Which wasn’t what her closeness right now meant at all and he couldn’t let it continue, not without her consent. “Marinette.”

“Mm.”

“You need to wake up. It’s morning.”

“Mm.”

He sighed. He’d tried the nicer way. “You missed our morning lesson.”

Her eyes popped open. “What!?” She froze, realizing their position. He tried to look away, as if that would make him look less guilty. “What are you doing?”

“We fell asleep,” Adrien explained. “I just woke up a second ago and I hope you remember you need me for the competition, so I can’t be killed.”

Marinette sat up, wiping at her face. “I can’t believe we fell asleep.”

“It’s probably for the best. You were really out of it last night.”

Her eyes squinted. “Were we talking about scalloped potatoes?”

“Yeah. Were you secretly drunk too?”

Her cheeks reddened. “No.” Her reaction wasn’t very convincing. “What time is it?”

It was then that he realized the other repercussions of spending the night with Marinette—his father was going to kill him. His phone automatically went into silence mode at night, so it hadn’t woken him up.

He fumbled with his phone, finding over a hundred missed calls.

“Shit,” he muttered, immediately calling his father.

He picked up on the first ring. “Adrien.”

“Father. I’m sorry. I fell asleep on the floor at the studio. I wasn’t trying to—”

“I expect better from you, Adrien. It shouldn’t be that difficult to maintain your schedule.”

But it was. It was nearly impossible. And it’s not like he could tell his father about all the extra super hero work he was doing. He tried to be civil. “Dance has taken up a lot more time and energy than I anticipated.”

“As it should, if you are to be flawless and not have the votes that you would have otherwise had if Chloe had been your partner.”

He gritted his teeth. “Marinette was the best dancer there.”

“And has mediocre parents and connections. To make up for your mistake, I’ll have Nathalie add more date nights with Chloe, all in public.”

“I don’t have time for that.”

“You’ll make time. I expect you to continue to perform at your best ability at all times. You’re an Agreste. There isn’t any room for excuses or failure.”

His father hung up.

He wanted to throw his phone. Collapse on the floor. Roll up in a ball, cry, and fall asleep until he was no longer pathetic and small.

Instead, he pocketed his phone and looked up to find Marinette staring at him, clearly having listened in.

I wasn’t making it up, he wanted to say.

“He shouldn’t have been mad,” is all she said.

He frowned. “Are your parents not mad?”

“No.” She tapped her phone against her leg. “I just texted them apologizing. I’ve kind of done this a few times before.”

“Did you tell them I was still here too?”

The blush was back. “We didn’t do anything.”

“I wasn’t insinuating that we had.”

He wondered if anyone would even believe something between them could happen. Marinette hated him and Chloe and everyone else seemed under the impression that he considered himself “above” her. Which really shouldn’t matter anyway, given that he had a girlfriend. A fake girlfriend, but a girlfriend nonetheless.

Marinette flinched, probably from something he hadn’t even said, or something she’d imagined him saying.

“I don’t want to fight with you anymore.”

She didn’t reply, busy pointing and flexing her toes.

He leaned his head back against the glass and started moving his toes around too. “What don’t you like about scalloped potatoes?”

At first, he didn’t think she’d answer, but then she talked all about the different ways of preparing potatoes and, for a minute, it was like they were actually friends.

Chapter Text

Adrien coughed, pulling away from Marinette for the fifth time.

She’d actually begun teaching him how to dance with her and not just by himself. Considering the competition was about dancing as partners, he was surprised she’d waited so long to start teaching him their choreography, but then again, he was still considered a very slimy toad that was not to be touched whenever given the chance.

Unless she really wanted to smack the toad, especially if said toad’s form was abysmal or some other creative adjective that she’d never run short of. Just to keep things fresh.

“You’re never going to learn how to steady me after any sort of turning,” Marinette chided.

He fumbled for his water. “It’s not as easy as you think.”

“We’ve been at this for weeks.” She began doing the steps without him. “Five, six, seven, eight and—there. Your arms should be ready.”

“My arms are new to this.” He stood up, tossing his water bottle back into his bag. “Besides, you’re the one who comes barreling into me.”

She poked him in the chest, eyes narrowed and lethal despite their height difference. “Because you’re not on your mark.”

Adrien grabbed her hand, forcing her body to twirl into place and back, this time catching her body perfectly against his own, only his nose grazing her ear.

He kept her there, telling himself it was to gloat as he murmured, “Was that satisfactory?”

Before she could get a word out, the floor beneath them shook. His arms wrapped tighter around her, as if that was going to do them any good. It’d been over a decade since Paris had been through an earthquake. He wasn’t exactly sure what they were supposed to do, especially in a room surrounded by mirrors and glass. Surprisingly, Marinette didn’t try to rip herself out of his arms, instead pressing into him, gripping him tight.

When the trembling ceased, Adrien unfroze first. He stepped hesitantly to the floor to ceiling windows. People in the streets were running, spools of fabric chasing after them like deranged stringless kites.

That couldn’t be right. He squinted, trying to figure out how the cloth was even flying, how it had gotten so big, and what was controlling it. He put a hand on the window, yelling as a body slammed against the glass, held by a snake-like wrap.

He locked eyes with the victim, a middle-aged man with a receding hairline, his face red and bloody from the impact. It was like watching an anaconda prepare to devour a cow in a nature documentary, but real in a way Adrien would never be prepared for. And this wasn’t a cow—it was a person, whose hand slammed against the dented glass, reaching out to Adrien as if he could somehow help him.

He dissolved, his flesh turning to thread, weaving itself into the fabric, causing it to grow and expand.

Adrien almost threw up.

After a quick rustle, the cloth turned still, as if it was looking right at him. For a second, he thought he’d imagined it, but then it rammed into the glass, causing the crack to deepen.

“Run!” he yelled to Marinette, but when he turned, she wasn’t there.

He sprinted for the door of the studio, needing to get farther into the building, hide, and transform. Had Marinette gotten scared and run the second that person had hit the glass? He wanted to go look for her, but there wasn’t time. Aphid was the one everyone needed, not Adrien.

Tikki flew out of his pocket as soon as he was by himself and he whispered the magic words, transforming into Aphid.

That didn’t stop his breathing from coming way too fast.

Aphid decided to ascend to the roof, sensing that Lady Noir was already transformed and somewhere nearby. He stayed low, not wanting any of the cloth snakes to spot him.

Fabric, so much fabric, unfurled through the streets of Paris, waving in the wind like kites, divebombing innocents and smashing through windows, pushing itself through tiny cracks and into buildings.

He tried not to think about the man, gone.

A nimble black clad heroine landed next to him. “This is new.”

“I’m a bit fond of Paris keeping the history and not getting a makeover,” Aphid replied, as if he wasn’t losing it. It felt nothing like a super hero movie. Quippy one liners didn’t seem appropriate. “Do you have any idea what’s going on or what started this?”

“Besides the basics on Hawk Moth that Plagg and Tikki gave us? Not a clue.” Lady Noir pointed to the nearest cloth reaper. “Isn’t that the Agreste symbol?”

“I think so,” Aphid said cautiously. He’d recognize it anywhere, of course. It did seem to be on all of them. “Maybe the victim works for that fashion tycoon man?”

“More like tyrant,” a cold voice said from behind them.

They turned, finding a woman decked out in a swath of different fabrics that writhed and floated around her in a serene, ghost-like manner. Despite the number of different colors along her body, it was somehow an elegant ensemble.

“I hear you have some jewels for Fashionista.” She held a gloved finger to her lips, not at all seeming to care that she just referred to herself in the third person. “Give them to me and I won’t have to turn you into fibers.”

Lady Noir backed up. “I think we’re going to pass.”

Aphid readied his yo-yo, but hesitated. He knew this woman. She was often at his photoshoots when he wore her designs, some of which caused huge fights between her and his father. It made sense that the first victim would be someone who had worked for him, the Parisian male version of Miranda Priestly from The Devil Wears Prada.

“That’s not an acceptable answer.” A long finger came to her chin. “Be a dear and fetch them, will you?”

The cloth that had been levitating around her shot out like a barracuda. They dodged, taking to the rooftops to escape.

“Should we try that plan we came up with the other day?” he asked.

Lady Noir kept pace with him. “Sounds good to me.”

He wrapped his yo-yo string around a chimney, grabbed Lady Noir, and swung them around. She smacked her baton into them, sending them flying.

Lady Noir beamed. “We did it!” But they were already coming back. “Or not?”

They didn’t even have time to run. Aphid hit one with his yo-yo string while Lady Noir used her staff, neither of them doing any damage besides batting them away.

It didn’t help that they were fast. They kept up a breakneck pace, but they didn’t seem to tire or ever slow down. There wasn’t anything along the rooflines that Aphid could think up that would stop them and, even if they stopped a few, there had to be hundreds in the city. And these weren’t even the problem—they were just minions.

Sweat dripped into his eyes. How long had they been keeping this up? Not only that, but there seemed to be more of them.

“Aphid!”

He looked up, surprised to see Lady Noir bounding towards him, pointing behind him. A fabric monster was inches away from snagging his wrist.

She rammed into him, knocking him out of the way. She hugged him close, but that didn’t stop them from rolling off the roof.

They fell, but he was able to get his feet underneath him, extending his arms to catch Lady Noir as he landed, the impact not hurting a bit due to his suit.

He glanced up, ready to run, but the cloth had gotten into some sort of fight on the roof. Aphid retreated under a roof, clutching Lady Noir tightly.

“I thought you were the one who was supposed to land on your feet,” he huffed quietly, still waiting to see if they’d be found.

“I would have if I wasn’t saving you.” She smacked his shoulder. “Let me down.”

He obliged, opening the nearest door. “Come on. Let’s hide in here.”

The building ended up being a bakery. He breathed in the smell of yeast and cinnamon, trying to calm himself down as they went farther into the bakery.

“You can’t go back there.”

He paused behind the counter. “Why not?”

“You don’t live or work here.”

“I’m not stealing anything. We’re hiding during a crisis. Regrouping.” He turned the lights down. “We’re the city’s only hope, you know.”

Lady Noir touched the glass display, as if she was picking out croissants and not in shock. “That was crazy. Did that actually happen?”

“Unfortunately.”

“What are we supposed to do?” she asked. “We can’t run forever. And our weapons don’t work against them.”

He wanted to say he had no idea and join in her panic, but that wasn’t going to save Paris. “I can use my power, but first we need to figure out where these things are coming from.”

“From her, obviously. We just have no idea where she went and, I don’t know about you, but I’d rather go in the opposite direction.”

“Maybe it’s like a hive,” he guessed. “Like once we find that woman again and destroy her akuma, all of these will stop?”

Lady Noir didn’t seem to be paying attention. “It looks like the apocalypse out there, with people getting turned into sweaters or who knows what.” She started pacing. “And for some reason I got Plagg, me of all people, and he’s not exactly the best teacher and more demands that all my allowance gets spent on cheese of all things instead of talking about, I don’t know, how not to die? What are we supposed to do?”

Her hands came to her cheeks, trembling.

“Hey.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “It’s going to be okay. You’ve told me some pretty good advice that Plagg has given you and I told you everything Tikki told me. We’ve been training for this.”

Her muscles tensed. “We’ve been swinging our weapons around like play swords, Aphid. This isn’t the same thing.”

He held back a grimace. “No, it’s not.”

Her breathing hitched. “We can’t do this. There’s no way we can stop whoever was akumatized, much less Hawk Moth.”

“You were chosen for a reason.” He wasn’t exactly sure what that reason was and he didn’t know her very well, but he did know this. “You’re smart, strong, and most of all, you love the people of Paris, even when they don’t love you.” He gripped her shoulders. “I’m not going to leave you. We’re going to do this together.”

Her breaths started evening out. “You really think we can do it?”

“Yes.” Not that he really had another option. They couldn’t both state their doubts, could they? “Are you ready?”

Her clawed hand fell on top of his. “Let’s cut a rug.” She paused. “Or cut whatever those things are supposed to be.”

Aphid cracked a smile. Not the best time for a joke, but it was better than crippling anxiety. “Let’s go over what we know. We can’t touch the fabric or else we’ll become part of it.”

“Actually, I did see some of the fabric pick up people and put them back down,” Lady Noir replied. “I don’t know why, but it does make sense that she’d have to make sure she’d be able to pick us up with them without turning us into fabric if she wants our Miraculous.”

“That makes sense.” He rubbed his jaw. “Still, if we get trapped in their grip, I don’t know what we can do after that. We have to be careful not to let that happen.”

“Which isn’t exactly easy if there’s no way to actually destroy them.” She leaned against the display, pouting. “This isn’t helping me feel better.”

“The brand on the fabric was Agreste, so it’s pretty likely that this fashion villain works there, right?”

“Do you think that’s where we’ll find her?”

“If not, it can at least give us clues to maybe what upset her or where the akumatized object is.”

She picked up a croissant, stuffing her mouth absentmindedly. “I guess that’s a plan, but it’d be easier to do without all those things flying around.”

“I thought you said no stealing.”

Lady Noir paused. “Oh. Well…consider it payment to Paris’ super heroes?”

Aphid’s stomach was churning too much to even think of food. “Come to think of it, maybe normal tools might be able to take down those things.”

“Like what? Tomato juice and Gabriel Agreste saying they’re out of style?”

“I was thinking anything sharp.” He reached into the first drawer he found in the kitchen, finding a knife.

She smirked. “Who’s stealing now?”

“I think the magical ladybugs return everything to where it was found,” he said, hoping it was true.

Lady Noir patted her stomach. “I hope that isn’t the case for food.”

“That’s not gross at all,” he muttered. She laughed. He handed her the knife. “Are you ready for this?”

“Not at all.” Her apprehensive smile gleamed against the silver. “Let’s do it.”

                                                                          /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Lady Noir had the brilliant idea of disguising themselves as fabric monsters. At first, it had seemed ridiculous to go into the streets bundled up in cloth, but after a few minutes of being ignored by the creatures plaguing the sky, he relaxed.

“I still don’t see why I have to be cocooned in a rug of all things.”

“You preferred what I found?” It seemed that whoever owned the bakery had a daughter who was super into dance. Lady Noir had scrounged up plenty of tutus, layering them up and down her body. She was basically a walking rainbow. “You are way less conspicuous.”

“I think I’ve swallowed a decade’s worth of dust.”

“You’re so whiny. You didn’t hear them complaining in that episode of The Walking Dead where they wear the dead zombie intestines to get out of that huge mass of zombies.”

“I haven’t seen that, but I’m pretty sure they complained.”

“It’s about survival. Just be glad it’s not organs.”

“Yeah. This is the epitome of greener grass,” he mumbled. “Do you watch that show?”

“Not that much of it. I’m a big baby when it comes to scary things.”

He basically hated anything to do with death, so zombies were a no go for him. “So, you’re a literal scaredy cat?”

“Haha, you’re so funny.”

After getting to his father’s building, they’d been able to sneak more thoroughly. Aphid pretended he had no idea where he was going, that the path he chose to her office early into their search was happenstance. He was grateful for the photo she had on her desk with her and her daughters.

“Hey! That’s her,” Lady Noir said.

They did some digging, but didn’t find anything that led to them knowing where the akuma was hiding.

“My powers should seriously come with an akuma detector,” Aphid grumbled after smashing the fifth necklace he’d found in her drawer, just in case it held one. “I feel like I’m breaking and entering all because this guy can’t run his company right.”

“How do you know it’s his fault?”

“He’s the head of the company.” He avoided looking at the news article on her desk, his father’s face front and center. “You seriously haven’t heard the stories about how cold he can be to people?”

“I’ve heard that the Agreste man is super harsh, but I don’t know if I buy it.”

“Why wouldn’t you buy it?”

She shrugged. “It’s not like either of us know him. Maybe it’s just bad publicity.”

“Clearly, he has a disgruntled employee. She called him a tyrant.”

“And I’m all for workers’ rights and all, but maybe this is all a miscommunication.”

“A miscommunication that’s already possibly killed hundreds of people.”

“They’re not dead,” Lady Noir argued. “At least not yet, anyway. Besides, it’s Hawk Moth’s fault, not hers, if our kwamis are right.”

Aphid locked his jaw. “Let’s check out the studios. Maybe she spends way more time there and we can find some clues.”

The hallways were clear. Still, they crept slowly until they got to the closest studio, one Aphid was incredibly familiar with. It was one of the more spacious ones, allowing for multiple photoshoots to happen at a time. Racks of clothes, backdrops, and tables full of makeup and accessories littered the space. All the lighting was on, causing him to squint.

Something rustled behind them.

A cloth monster blocked the door, their only exit. The lights shined their way, making it impossible to see.

“You daft little children. Do you really think we didn’t recognize you right away? As if any of my beautiful creations were rugs.”

Aphid looked up in time to see Fashionista jump from the ceiling. He tried to block the blow, but failed. He went flying into a table, gasping in pain.

While he’d been sparring with Lady Noir, they hadn’t ever been aiming to hurt one another. That had probably been a mistake.

He looked up in time to see Lady Noir gracefully dodging every attack thrown at her, somehow wrapping her up in a piece of ordinary cloth before grabbing a beret from her hair and tearing it in half.

No akuma.

Aphid got up, smacking away the fabric that had begun descending as the villain freed herself.

They retreated, hiding behind a partition.

“Did you see anything on her that looked like it would hold the akuma?” Aphid asked.

“She has a sash on her hip, high heels, and gloves.” Lady Noir crouched. “I don’t know anything about the Agreste brand to know if any of those are significant.”

“Does that mean you’re not interested in models?”

Lady Noir snorted. “Please. I have standards, thank you very much…Why are you smiling?”

They dodged another attack. “We’re getting the hang of this is all.”

Aphid tried to think if his father had mentioned anything to him lately about issues at work, but he came up blank. He hadn’t been going to photoshoots as much lately because of all of his practicing with Marinette, but he did remember the other day when he’d stopped in and one of the top designers had been super stressed over their line of gloves that were supposed to come out soon.

Not that he could give his insider information to Lady Noir. “Let me see if my powers will give us any hints.”

“Little bug,” Fashionista hissed, her voice closer.

“Lucky Charm!”

A plastic polka dotted container fell into his hands. He read the label. “Itching powder?”

“As if I needed another reason to sink my claws into anything.” Lady Noir shoved a piece of fabric back with her baton as the partition was knocked over, covering him. “Really, that’s what it gave you? There’s nothing lucky about that.”

Aphid looked around, trying to figure out a way itching powder would actually come in handy. “I know what to do.”

“That makes one of us.” She smacked the fabric away again, flipping over another. “I can’t do this all day.”

Aphid grabbed a pair of scissors off the table. “Maybe take a different stab at it.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Bad jokes are supposed to be my job, Aphid.”

“What?” He held up the scissors. “That didn’t make the cut?”

Whatever response she had was abandoned as a tongue of fabric licked them up, crushing them together.

Aphid kicked, trying to make some room for them, but the fabric was too tight and not budging. “Use your Cataclysm!”

“I can’t. My hand if touching you. If I use my powers, it’ll destroy all of us at the same time,” Lady Noir said.

The pair of scissors in his hands was clenched too tight to be of any use. How was he supposed to use his lucky charm item now?

“Oh, look, darlings. A bug in a rug,” Fashionista tittered. “And the cat has too much yarn to handle.”

Aphid looked around frantically for anything that could help them. Something they could ram into. Something they had on them that they could access. He looked at Lady Noir. She had claws, but they were pressed against him, palm inward. His suit was all smooth. But hers…

“Your heel,” he breathed. “Dig your high heel into the fabric.”

Realization dawned. She started squirming against him, trying to kick. Her body floundered against his with each attempt, but she kept going.

“There’s no escape!” the villain chorused, strutting up to them, hands extended to reach for his earrings.

Lady Noir tried against, her body leaning back and then toward—

Their lips touched.

Startled, Aphid tried to pull away, but it was her forward momentum that finally ripped the fabric, causing it to wriggle and loosen. He dug the scissors in on his side, forcing it to drop them.

They landed on their feet, staring at one another a moment too long before turning back to a now startled Fashionista. Aphid shook his head minutely, trying to rid himself of the awkwardness, which was easy enough to do because Fashionista had joined the fray.

Lady Noir distracted her long enough for Aphid to take a running leap off one of her fabric snakes, shaking the entire bottle of itching powder onto her.

Fashionista screamed, tearing off her gloves so she could scratch at her skin. Lady Noir used her Cataclysm, destroying the akuma’s hiding place.

Aphid snatched it up with his yo-yo, purified it, and used his miraculous ladybugs to right the damage done on the city. Everyone who’d been turned into threads of the fabric was returned, fully human, and Fashionista was now her regular self.

They took a minute to make sure she was fine before scurrying out of the building, making their way to the roof.

The wind hit his face as soon as the door was open, helping to calm his heart down.

“We did it,” Lady Noir breathed. “We actually did it.”

Aphid shrugged. “Wasn’t too bad.”

“Seriously? People were getting dusted like it was Infinity War, we almost got crushed by a super ugly floral pattern, and you’re saying it wasn’t too bad?”

“It all turned out fine in the end.”

She ran a hand down her face. “Is this a guy thing, or an Aphid thing? I can’t tell if you’re stupid or way too humble.”

“Hm.” He tapped his chin. “Probably somewhere in the middle.”

She smiled. “That’s probably the humblest thing you could have said.”

He took a few seconds to process that the fight was over. He most likely didn’t have to put on a false bravado for Lady Noir, but he couldn’t help it. Everyone always expected him to be perfect and, as the Ladybug Miraculous holder, the pressure was even higher.

She fiddled with her hair. “Yeah, sorry about…you know.” He cocked his head to the side until she said, “The kiss.”

“Oh.” He cleared his throat. “I should have moved a bit out of your way.”

“We were kind of about to die.”

“Exactly.” He put his hands on his hips. Dropped them. “Really, you did great.”

“It was…?”

“The heel thing. That was great.” He blinked. “The whole time you were great. With everything.”

“Right.”

Kill him now.

“Well, we’re about to transform back,” he said, touching his earring. “We need practice at getting back to where we came from without being seen.”

“I think I’ll be fine, being a cat and all.” She slunk up to him. “But you’re a bit noticeable, given the scarlet suit and charm.”

He made a face. “I’ll manage. Until next time.”

She waved, disappearing over the edge of the roof. Aphid swung himself as close to the dance studio as he could before dropping down into an alley, checking to make sure the coast was clear before transforming back.

He caught Tikki before she could fall, handing her a cookie. “How did we do?”

“You were amazing, Adrien.” She nibbled. “You’ll be a great Ladybug.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and leaned against the brick wall. “Thanks, Tikki.”

After giving her a few minutes to eat, he hurled himself up the stairs, his story straight in his mind…at least if he could find Marinette.

He looked everywhere he knew to—not that he’d done much exploring in the building with Marinette’s only allowed spaces for him to be in were the dance floor and the bathroom.

“Marinette!” he yelled for the dozenth time, starting to panic.

“I’m here!” he heard from a door he’d never gone into before.

Adrien opened it, finding Marinette huddled behind a stack of boxes. She hesitantly stood up when she saw him.

“Marinette!” He ran up to her, grabbing her by the shoulders. “I thought you were threaded.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Um, no. I did the sensible thing and went to hide in this storage closet where all the recital leotards are. The fabric didn’t go in there and I covered myself up with tutus so it wouldn’t see me.” She tried to remove his hand. “Where the heck did you go?”

“I was trying to get to a more secure place.”

“Like out on the street?”

“I’m not stupid.” He crossed his arms. “It’s not like you pulled me along to go hide with you.”

“You were too busy trying to get the closest look at death. It’s not my prerogative to keep you from it.”

He held back rolling his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. We both survived and those two hero people took care of whatever, according to the news.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but good for them for making the weirdest thing that has ever happened stop happening.” She shrugged. “I guess I should count my blessings that you didn’t see where I was hiding. You would’ve crawled into the crate with me.”

“Not if you were going to elbow me for the millionth time,” he muttered.

“As if I’d want to be squished close enough in fabric with you for that to happen.”

He touched his lips, remembering Lady Noir’s on his. It’s not like he was interested in her, but at the same time it’d felt kind of…right.

“Pigeon?”

Adrien looked up, realizing he’d been daydreaming for what was probably too long. “Yeah?”

She starting walking towards the dance floor. “Care to actually focus on our routine?”

He’d been kidding himself, thinking the first ever akuma attack, something that Marinette had no previous knowledge of, was going to get him out of practice. “Let’s see what you got, Slippers.”

Chapter Text

It’d finally happened—Hawk Moth’s reign of terror.

It had become a pretty daily affair that Adrien, as Aphid, was forced to fix. Sometimes more, sometimes less. Paris had erupted into a state of chaos, with plenty of people evacuating the city, others protesting, which only caused more akumas, and a lot of rage and fear which, of course, also produced more akumas.

Aphid talked to the press after each akumatized person had been set free to try to raise awareness of how the powers of Hawk Moth’s Miraculous worked, urging people to be mindful of their negative emotions. Not everyone was on his side, especially given the black cat who partnered with him that could obliterate things with a simple touch, but the more he spoke to the media, the more things seemed to settle down.

At least public rating wise. The city was still usually on fire in one way or another. Due to the constant attacks, the production of the show had been delayed, earning them more dance practice time. Marinette had been surprisingly relieved to hear that her dream was being postponed. From what Adrien could tell, the akuma attacks wore her out. She was less focused than normal, which he related to since he expected to have to jump up in the middle of anything he was doing to go save the entire city.

Marinette even started shortening their dance times to give them more breaks, claiming she didn’t want either of them being akumatized due to stress. He and Lady Noir had agreed to keep their times together shorter now that they knew what they were doing. Besides, they got to see each other at least briefly every day because of the akumas, making sure to keep up their tradition of one fact per person so long as they weren’t about to transform back.

Aphid catapulted underneath the debris of a building. Some Parisian had started going around the city turning people into cookies of all things, something about how her life was bitter and there needed to be more sweetness.

He’d always thought Tikki had been pulling his leg about the crazy stuff that the Butterfly Miraculous could do, but he’d just watched someone get turned into a chocolate chip cookie and snatched away by a pigeon.

“My powers fix when people get eaten, right?” Aphid asked.

“I can’t make a joke about that. I wish I could tell you.” Lady Noir crouched next to him. “Either way, we need to focus right now to prevent more damage from being done.”

The villain was on top of a nearby roof. From what they could tell, the akumatized object was the rolling pin strapped to her back, but he was more concerned with the icing bag that had turned into a make-shift magical transformation gun.

Adrien used his Lucky Charm. An axe dropped into his hands. What the heck was he supposed to do with it, stab the lady?

He turned to give Lady Noir a sour expression, but she was gone. She’d snuck behind to Cataclysm the rolling pin. He gritted his teeth. She really should have waited for his power and to come up with a plan for together.

The villain turned suddenly, icing gun raised at Lady Noir.

Aphid threw his yo-yo, wrapping it around their wrist and pulling. The thing shot icing at a car, turning it into a giant pumpkin roll. Lady Noir got behind her again, but was knocked aside, into the pumpkin roll, the force pushing her so that she was stuck in the dessert.

The akumatized person reached for her ring. Aphid tossed the axe, watching it spiral in the air and slice the rolling pin in half before it could hit her. He caught the akuma, purified it, and sent it on its merry way before walking over to his partner, who was pouting.

“I could have dodged,” she huffed.

He yanked her out of the pumpkin roll. “I didn’t want to take that risk.”

“So instead you throw a giant sharp object my direction.”

“That’s what the magic gave me. We’re a team, we have to work—”

A crumbling sound cut him off. The building behind him had been partially turned into cookie dough without his notice, the rest of it sliding towards them.

Without a thought, he slammed into her, knocking her out of the way. They went tumbling, rolling on top of one another, the ground shaking under them as the building collapsed.

They coughed as the dust, or rather, dough, settled.

He was on top of her, still acting as a shield. “Are you okay?”

She looked up at him, green eyes mortified. “You saved me.”

Twice. Not that he was keeping track. “Why wouldn’t I?"

"No, it’s just…I can count on you.” She looked away. “Thank you.”

He peered down at her, forgetting that she was as new at this as he was. He softened. “We’ll have to look out for each other,” he murmured. “I want us to be a team.”

“A team,” she repeated. “Of course.”

He tried not to think of his limbs tangled up in hers. It’s not like he was interested. They just had a job to do.

He stopped himself from clearing his throat as he got off of her, going to grab his Miraculous object. “I should have thrown this already.”

“So long as you don’t aim at me, I don’t mind the delay,” she said, shaking her arms, as if that was going to get the pumpkin off.

“Miraculous Ladybug,” he said, chucking the axe into the air and letting the magical ladybugs do their work, discovering that people who turn into cookies and get eaten do, in fact, come back.

His life had gotten so weird.

Now that all the danger was over, a giant crowd, complete with cameras, rushed over.

“Aphid! Aphid, will you please take a selfie with me?” a girl asked, looking hopeful.

He wordlessly obliged, giving only a small smile. He always came across more reserved as Aphid, like the responsibility made it impossible to express himself any more than that. It was kind of a relief. He spent so much energy as Adrien going for casually likable. As Aphid, he seriously didn’t care.

A large mass of people was starting to gather and he’d gotten roped into a few more selfie requests.

“Hey, it’s the cat girl!” a 20-something guy guffawed from the crowd. “Meow for us!”

It sickened Aphid that people couldn’t even bother to learn their names. He’d tentatively searched through comments about both of them. He’d been called bug boy, spot guy, lady butt, and plenty of things that were too inappropriate to say. People sensualized him. He was used to it. It didn’t make it right, but at the same time, there seemed to at least be a bit of respect for him considering he’d saved that kid on day one.

Not Lady Noir. Ever since then, people had speculated that she was no good. That she was as bad luck as an actual black cat that was only capable of mischief, whether just for fun or because she was an actual villain. That or she was trying to manipulate Aphid in some way, with most of the theories being sexual.

He couldn’t stomach the comments about her, as used to them as he was when it came to himself. He hoped she wasn’t reading them.

But now, she was being forced to live it.

Aphid’s eyes flickered over to Lady Noir. She’d been waiting for him to finish up, not at all minding that he was getting all the attention.

The guy approached her, that stupid masculine grin of someone who was used to getting anything they wanted plastered onto his face.

“You’re beautiful,” he gushed. “Even more so in person.”

“Thanks,” she said. It probably sounded shy and humble to him instead of what it really was—politely dismissive.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go out. I’d love to get you dinner. You know, as a thank you for what you do for Paris. Some drinks, some dancing, maybe a little more…”

Aphid’s ears itched as a girl threw an arm around him, kissing his cheek. He was too focused on trying to hear Lady Noir’s answer to really do anything about his own boundaries. They hadn’t talked about dating anyone as super heroes, but it was more because he’d thought it was obvious that they shouldn’t do it and thought she’d be in the same boat.

But what if she wanted to? Maybe not with this guy, but someone else? Why did it bother him, to think about her being with someone? If anything, he felt more like a big brother, or the leader of their little partnership. This was strictly business.

And yet he was straining to hear her answer.

“No thank you.”

“Awe, come on. What’s the harm in a little fun?”

Aphid started gently extracting himself from the girls that had swarmed him, finding that the guy had decided to touch Lady Noir’s shoulder. He thought through Lady Noir’s options. If she attacked the guy, the press would end up twisting it as her attacking an innocent bystander, not defending herself against a man that was clearly bothering her. Even a lot of the women surrounding them looked distrustful of her, even after watching her endure his unwanted advances.

“You were covered in icing a second ago. It was like that video online.” He leaned close, despite all of her clear body language. “Have you seen it?”

Aphid finally made it through the crowd, straightening and hopefully looking intimidating. “Hi.”

The guy looked him up and down, as if he didn’t know a male hero existed. “Can I help you?”

“She isn’t interested. If she was, she would have told you outright.”

“I don’t think she needs you talking for her.”

He kept from barking out a laugh, wanting to tell him she could choke him with her bare hands and claw his heart out if she felt like it (which she probably did). But that wouldn’t be the best press, so he turned to Lady Noir. “Are you interested in him?”

She looked away, as if looking at him was more than she could stomach. “No.”

“Glad we cleared that up.” Aphid cocked an eyebrow at him as Lady Noir used her baton to jump to the nearest rooftop. “And for the record, she’s a person. Show a little respect.”

He started walking away, the guy crying out, “Screw you. You can’t monopolize her, man. She’s free to make her own choices!”

Aphid’s muscles roiled in anger, but he launched himself into the air, away from him. He landed on their now typical de-transformation roof, finding Lady Noir hunched and vulnerable, her back turned.

“I wasn’t trying to overstep,” he said, suddenly self-conscious. “It’s just the press has been looking for any excuse to eat you alive and I didn’t want them to get any more ammunition, even if that guy deserved to get punched in the face. I would’ve, but I don’t think that would have helped your image either, given the other sorts of articles speculating about us.” He shook his head. “You don’t deserve to be talked to like that. It’s so diabolical, really, how people must get into that mindset that people are playthings…are you okay?”

There were tears running down her mask. She rubbed at her eyes. “Yeah.”

“My lady.” He closed the distance between them, pulling her in for a gentle hug. One easy enough to escape. “You are a hero.”

“I didn’t even help in that last fight.”

“We’re getting the hang of things,” he said into her hair. “Don’t worry, we’ll learn to work as a team. Besides, you’re better at hand-to-hand combat than I am. You always look like you’re dancing. It’s beautiful.”       

She sniffed. “I’ve seen…weird things online. Some hashtag about…other words for cats involving me.”

He kept from tensing. “Is that what that guy brought up?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

Aphid removed his arms from her. Stepped towards the edge, ready to fling himself down into the street, find him, and make it so he could never have children. Could never even think about the act again without—

“Aphid!” He barely faltered in his steps at her voice. “You’re about to transform back.”

He hadn’t even registered the beeping in his ears. He pulled out of her grip and hid behind a chimney just in time, catching Tikki as she whizzed out of the earrings.

Adrien pressed his back against the bricks, his jaw working as he handed Tikki a cookie and watched her eat. “You still there?”

“Yeah.”

He could hear her kwami chowing down on something that smelled absolutely terrible.

“Can we hang out for a bit?” he asked.

“I’d like that.”

Adrien faced the bricks, pressing his free palm against them. Right behind them was his partner, a girl who had hopes, dreams, and feelings that so many people shoved aside for their perfect little puppet version of her. All sorts of opinions without any facts, without asking her for her own story, with no regard to how it must be affecting her.

A girl without a mask.

He swallowed. It was his first time thinking of her as someone who probably went to school, who had friends, hobbies, and a family.

He was such a hypocrite. “Spots on.”

Aphid stepped back out when he heard her say her own magic words, pulling her back into his arms. He’d always wanted to be a hugger, but after his mom’s death, he hadn’t gotten many. It was the most natural thing in the world, having Lady Noir curled up in his embrace. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten so worked up.”

“No. It’s nice to have someone worked up for me.” She rested her head against his chest. “No one else ever stands up for me, besides me. And it’s been really hard, doing all this stuff for everyone in Paris and then they just make weird sex videos and jokes.”

“Makes me kind of want to leave the city to burn.”

“Not everyone is like that.” She looked up at him. “You’re not.”

He frowned. “Still.”

They stayed in their embrace, soaking up each other’s support and protection. He wondered if she was scared by how close they were. The only person he’d been able to instantly connect with was Marinette and that relationship had gone up in flames seconds after. He didn’t want the same thing to happen with Lady Noir. All of Paris depended on them to keep their relationship professional.

“Thank you,” she said after a while. There were still tears on her cheeks.

“Let’s sit for a while.”

He led her over to the rooftop edge, sitting down, letting his legs dangle as he watched Paris.

“I lost someone important to me a few years ago,” he found himself admitting. He had to, if she was forced to be vulnerable with him. “They got sick and now they’re gone.”

Her hand came to his. Her tears started again.

He almost pulled out of her touch, needing to get a look at her face, to find out what was causing her pain before he realized that she was crying for him. He’d never had someone cry for him before. His father was cold, immovable, and hadn’t shed a single tear since his mother had passed. He’d called Adrien weak for crying.

But Lady Noir poured out her own feelings, just for him.

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close, too moved to speak.

When her tears stopped, she took in a deep breath and rested her head on his shoulder. “I want to be someone who can save you too.”

He was tired and broken, but at least he had her. “I think you already are.”

Chapter Text

Marinette’s incredibly detailed timeline for the competition was moving along at the pace her logical self had deemed satisfactory.

She had gotten Nino to create a mashup of songs for the first round, which she’d been back and forth with him on for two weeks until it was absolutely perfect. She’d painstakingly choreographed the whole thing, checking the rules a dozen times to make sure she’d included all of the ballet elements needed.

Adrien’s ability to do everything in the choreo was still a work in progress, but all the akuma attacks had given them extra time. Well, a little bit of extra time, when she wasn’t finding excuses to cancel on him last minute to go save Paris. He hadn’t called her out on it. He was probably too relieved to get out of dancing to question her insanity.

Now, all she had to do was make sure they could perform the routine perfectly in their sleep. Easy peasy.

Except not easy peasy because Adrien had yet to even learn some of the more complicated moves.

“Hey, Slippers,” Adrien greeted, somehow already in the studio before her. “Ready for lift day?”

She almost rubbed her eyes. She must be dreaming. “You actually look excited to dance.”

“Uh, yeah. Lifts are something I think I’ll actually be good at.”

This did nothing for her confidence. “Why’s that?”

He gestured to his body. “I’m built for them.”

“It’s about more than strength, Pigeon. You have to be able to balance us and put your hands in all the right places. If you miss…”

She falls.

“I know,” he said softly. “But I’m going to really take the time to listen to everything you say and we can go through it in steps or whatever you think is best. I wouldn’t ever want you getting hurt because of me.”

It felt like he was talking about their original meeting more than physically dropping her.        

His smile faded. “You look off. Is something wrong? Is this something that’s really touchy feely for dancers and I’m not giving it proper respect?”

She fiddled with her tank top. “No, it’s not like that.”

He took a step back, posture defeated. “Are you worried I’ll take advantage of you?”      

Some of the lifts could be incredibly intimate, but dance was intimate in general. The more awkward thing was practice usually meant hands and legs ended up in places they weren’t meant to be.

And as much as she didn’t trust Adrien, she did trust him to be respectful. “No.”

“Then what is it?”

He sounded so worried. She’d worked hard to build herself up as this tough as nails dancer. She didn’t want to ruin her image.

And yet if they were going to get anywhere, she needed to at least be partially honest. “Injuries are a death sentence to dancers.”

She could imagine it. A misplaced hand at the wrong time. Smashing to the floor, a bone shattering, along with her dreams.

“Marinette.” His voice was raw. “I’m not going to drop you.”

But how did she know that? He’d never lifted anyone before. He was new to this.

Her breaths came fast. “Maybe it’s too soon. It’s definitely too soon. We have plenty of other stuff we could—”

“Marinette.” He grabbed her hands, squeezing. “Can we baby step it? I can hold you bridal style. Get you used to me carrying you around in a safe way.”

She bit her lip. Being carried wasn’t ideal, but it was better than potentially plummeting from some greater height while upside down. Marinette gave his hands a tentative squeeze back. “Okay.”

He got his hands ready. “I’m picking you up now.”

When she didn’t retort, he bent down, grabbing her knees and hoisting her into his arms. She held back her squeak, instead forcing her arms around his neck, trying to get used to being against his chest.

“Should I start doing any steps?” he asked.

He was being way too suave about this whole thing. “You can move around. Get used to my weight and what it’s like balancing us.”

Adrien started walking, more at ease with her weight than she anticipated. “You know…I really like what you’ve done with our choreography. And having Nino mashup some of your favorite songs is amazing.”

“It’s not that amazing.” Her legs jostled as he walked. “Well, Nino’s mashup is. I wouldn’t settle for anything less. But…” She sighed. “We need to be ready in two weeks. And I just don’t know if we can do it.”

“I know the whole routine, minus the lifts. I’m doing a lot better with flexibility and being on time with the music. I really think we have a shot at this.”

She didn’t, but to let him keep dreaming, she changed the subject to what she’d been staring at the last minute. “I forget you wear earrings.”

“It’s a modeling thing,” he said, shifting her in his arms for the first time. “Aphid made them popular so the photographers decided I should wear something similar. Brand association, I guess.”

His heartbeat was steady along her fingers. His body was solid. Normally her touches were brief. A little adjustment of an arm, lowering his shoulders, patting his stomach to get him to tighten his core, but now, she let her hands linger and stay. She had to get used to this, being close to him.

But it wasn’t hard. It was natural to be in his arms—something she didn’t think could be possible. It made sense to trust in Aphid, who had physically and mentally saved her so many times. But to trust Adrien?

To make sure it wasn’t a fluke, Marinette went limp, her head and back starting to fall back. Adrien’s arm came farther up her back, supporting her.

She started squirming next, but he kept her body close to his, just like he was supposed to.

This time, she had an actual position in mind as she moved. His hands adjusted as she hooked her legs around his hips, her fingers at the nape of his neck, tickling his blond hair.

Despite everything that had passed between them, staying in his arms was something she could put faith in.

Adrien Agreste held her steady, his eyes not leaving hers.

She took a deep breath. “I need you to balance and be strong.”

“You taught me both of those things,” Adrien murmured. “If you don’t trust in me, trust in that.”

Marinette looked away. She’d rather just trust him. “Put me down and I’ll teach you the first one after we stretch.”

“Sounds like a plan, Slippers.” He grabbed his bag. “But first, I need to go change.”

She nodded, glad for the few minutes of silence. Marinette grabbed her phone, checking the latest update on what people were saying about Aphid and Lady Noir after last night’s potential fight with a civilian.

As usual, people were up in arms for and against them. Some women were actually taking her side, which was nice. Others were praising Aphid for being such a great partner while then saying somewhat sexual things to contradict their whole “people are people, stop treating them like meat” message.

And others were just downright sick of them and all their drama, as if it was them causing all the messes in Paris.

Marinette thought back on last night. How panicked she’d been, trying to figure out what she should do as everyone watched her get hit on by a creep. No one except Aphid had come to her rescue, as if just because she had the capability to kick his butt meant she could handle herself? What’s a blow to her image just to teach someone a lesson?

But then Aphid had been there. Aphid, who had almost gone back down there to find him and punch him in the face…or somewhere else a little more painful.

She wanted to be in his arms again. Curled up against his side. Cuddling. Their lips—

“Is that Aphid?”

She almost screamed, not realizing Adrien had gotten back from changing. She shut off her background which, yes, was of Aphid. She said the first lie to come to mind, “Alya took the picture and set it up for me as a prank.”

Marinette threw her phone in her bag, hoping Adrien didn’t hear the little “ow” that Plagg had emitted. She’d pay for it later. “Come on, let’s stretch.”

He put on his own set of slippers and sat opposite of her in a straddle, not dropping the subject. “Did you vote for him being the hottest guy of the year or whatever?”

“No.” Marinette grabbed his hands, pulling him deep into the stretch. “And aren’t you one of the guys on the list to vote for?”

“I think so.”

She held back a sigh. “You don’t even know?”

“It’s not a flex.” Adrien groaned. “Speaking of flexes, please let go.”

She did. He collapsed onto his back. She reached forward, letting her torso flatten onto the floor, enjoying being a pancake. He heard him sit back up and start stretching on his own. “Your knees need to be up.” 

“How did you know—” 

“Knees.” 

His frustrated grunt was music to her ears. She looked up angelically, finding that his form was a lot better. “Still excited about lift day?”

“You’ll see. I won’t let you down. Literally.”

She hoped not.

When they were done stretching, she stood by the barre, apprehensive.

“So…lifts are pretty interesting because most of them don’t have names. People just kind of make up their own names for them based on what’s in them and it’s not like other dance moves where everyone calls them the same thing,” she explained. “We’ll start with some basic ones and build up from there. I’m thinking we can start with one where I basically do a cartwheel, but you’re the one making sure I land.”

“Do you have a video or something of that so I know what to do?”

She already had it pulled up on her phone. “I know you’re a visual person.”

His smile was genuine. They got to work, going through a few different lifts, each one growing more complicated.

“Sorry,” he said, clearly flustered as his hand brushed against her breast.

“It’s part of the trade,” she said. It wasn’t even a concern to her and her mind was too focused on the task at hand. “Let’s try again.”

She ended up clapping on his next attempt. “You actually are good at these.” She didn’t get to do lifts too often, so it was a nice change of pace now that she knew he was capable of. “How about we try one where I do a handstand and you hold me for longer in that position?”

“You think I’m ready for that?” he asked, wiping his hands on his leggings.

“Yes.”

They watched the video and Marinette explained where his hands would go and when, how long he would hold her (if he was able to), and how to get her down. “Are you comfortable with that?”

He nodded. “Let’s try it.”

They stood in position. When they were both ready, they launched her upwards at the same time. He wobbled at first, but gained his balance, allowing her to extend all her muscles and tighten, trying to make holding her easier for him.

It was amazing. She was stretched into the sky like a bird, her perch a surprisingly sturdy tree. He held her there for longer than she expected, as if trying to prove himself.

The door slammed. “Adrikens!”

Considering Marinette was upside down, she had no idea where Chloe was, only that they were close to the door and most likely close to her. The next thing she knew was Adrien’s stance was obliterated, causing her balance to get thrown off no matter how hard she tried to correct it.

Marinette knew what would happen next. Her teetering body would be at the mercy of gravity and the hard, cruel dance floor. She knew how to fall in a way that would prevent the most damage, but that didn’t mean she was incapable of getting hurt. Either way, she would slam into the ground and something would most likely be fractured and unable to heal with a mere two weeks before the competition. They’d have to forfeit.

Her body leaned to the side, descending away from Adrien, her safety net.

She squeezed her eyes tight, not wanting to see what would happen, tucking her body into a ball and adjusting so she would hit the floor in the safest way possible.

Arms caught her. Adrien’s arms, gathering her up like she was an infant, his eyes panicked as they bored into hers.

“Marinette. I’m so, so sorry,” he gushed. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, trying not to burst into tears. It wasn’t like her to be emotional, but she was so tired. And after last night with Aphid, the floodgates had apparently opened for good.

“I’m going to set you down so we can check you out and make sure, okay? Can you do that?”

She nodded, clinging to him as he slowly sat her down. Marinette stood, dazed as she processed that she was absolutely and completely fine.

“You good?” he asked again. “Are you sure?”

More nodding.

“She’s fine. Stop fussing over her,” Chloe said.

“You.” The rage in his voice made her come out of shock, watching as he rounded on Chloe. “How could you barge in here like that?”

Chloe popped a hip out. “I can do whatever I want.”

“I have never once invited you here. Marinette made it clear the first time you did that that you weren’t welcome.” He held his arms out wide. “This is our space. You can’t just go anywhere I am without asking first.”

“What’s the big deal? You should be happy to see me.”

“Did you not see what just happened? You slammed into me when I was lifting Marinette because you weren’t paying attention. This isn’t just some stupid prank which, of course, nothing you do is just a prank, it’s always downright bullying. You could have gotten her seriously hurt.” He pointed at Chloe. “Apologize.”

She burst out laughing.

“Apologize or I’m breaking up with you.”

Chloe looked at him as if he’d just announced that he believed that aliens were real and lived in people’s brains, gathering energy from anytime their human hosts thought the word cheese.

“Now!”

She flinched and muttered, “I’m sorry.”

Before Marinette could even process replying, Adrien said, “Now get out. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

She’d never seen Adrien angry like that before. No matter what was happening, he was typically pretty laid back, as if he couldn’t bother to have much more of an emotional response. From the looks of it, Chloe hadn’t either, which was probably she she’d left with her tail between her legs and without her typical threats.

“You stood up for me,” Marinette was surprised into saying.

“I should have since day one.” He started pacing the floor. “I should never let anyone treat you badly.” His hands came to his face. “God, you could have been hurt.”

“Hey, I’m okay.” She caught his arm, forcing him to stop. “Don’t worry, everything’s fine.”

His eyes were bloodshot when he peeked at her. “I’m sorry.”

Her mouth stayed shut like a vault. She still couldn’t find it in herself to say the words that would begin a clean slate. She couldn’t imagine there ever being a true clean slate so long as he was dating Chloe. Not when she would keep interrupting their dance time whenever she wanted and literally destroy what they were building, like a toddler knocking over another’s block tower.

But Marinette was still incredibly thankful for what he did.

She slipped her hands up his back, pressing her body against his, peering up at him with more vulnerability than she was used to. “I do trust that you won’t let me fall.”

He buried his head in her hair and took a shuddering breath as he pulled her close. “Never again.”

She really did hope it was true.

Chapter Text

Tikki was officially Adrien’s best friend—not that he could tell anyone. When he did homework, she relaxed either on top of his head, on his shoulder, or in one of his shirt or hoodie pockets. They’d have movie nights and he’d always let her pick. It was hard for him to smuggle sweet treats home, but he did his best for her. She was a floating sweet tooth that wanted sugar of any kind, though from what he gathered, she didn’t eat nearly as much as Plagg, Lady Noir’s kwami.

He fell asleep talking to her every night, listening to her tell stories of other Ladybug Miraculous holders, of what life was like thousands of years ago, or just listening to her hum or say beautiful, encouraging things.

She snuck him little kisses on his cheeks whenever people weren’t around if he was having a bad day (which was most every day), and even tried explaining Marinette to him from a girl’s perspective, which was super helpful since he had very little interaction with people, much less the opposite sex.

Quite frankly, he didn’t know how he’d gotten through life without her. She was everything good in the world and he didn’t want to be in it if he didn’t have his adorable, pure kwami of creation.

On their first free night in forever, Adrien started The Sound of Music, one of Tikki’s favorite movies. She’d quickly settled on his arm, cozying up as the first scene started.

It reminded him of time he’d spent with his mother. She’d always loved classic films. They’d have at least one movie night a week where they’d curl up on the couch together, watching through their favorites.

He tried to not tarnish the memory with his sadness and went back to being content with Tikki singing along to Sixteen Going on Seventeen.

“You’re a huge fan of romance, aren’t you?” he mused.

“So are you.” She chomped on a piece of chocolate caramel popcorn. “That’s why we get along so well.” She soured. “Unlike Plagg. He doesn’t like this movie. When we watch the Wizard of Oz, his favorite part is the Wicked Witch.”

Adrien suspected that Tikki and Plagg were basically soulmates, but had yet to bring it up to her considering she got grumpy whenever Plagg was the subject. “This movie is based on real events. He needs a heart.”

“I know!” Tikki sighed, flying up into Adrien’s hair. “He’s like Baron Von Trapp.”

“But with Max’s personality?” he guessed.

“Exactly!”

He cupped his hand around her, bringing her in front of his face. “And you compare yourself to bubbly, creative, heartfelt Maria, then?”

She eyed him warily. “I see what you’re trying to do.”

“I’m not trying to do a thing, Sunshine.” His phone started going off with an akuma alert. Tikki curled up even tighter on his shoulder, cuddling into him. “It was just getting to my favorite part.”

“You must love this movie if you’d abandon Paris over it.”

She gripped a piece of chocolate caramel popcorn, pouting, which wasn’t like her at all.

He kissed her head. “Sorry, Tikki. We’ll watch it when we get back. Spots on.”

By the time he’d caught up with Lady Noir, she’d already broken the akumatized object, releasing the butterfly.

“Nice work, kitty,” he said. Tikki would be pleased that their movie night could resume swiftly.

Lady Noir gave a shy smile. “Time to add another insect to your collection.”

He purified the butterfly and summoned his Lucky Charm object, restoring the city.

A crowd had already swarmed around them, much to his annoyance. He already put up with enough crowds taking his picture when he was Adrien, he didn’t really want any more. It’s not like he had wanted to be a model or famous, it was forced upon him, as was being a super hero.

Still, he felt he owed Parisians more as Aphid than Adrien and stayed, waving to the crowd and signing a few autographs, keeping an eye on Lady Noir, who was entertaining a group of children by doing a one-handed handstand on top of her baton.

His smile was genuine as he turned to the fan in front of him.

“How big do you think he is?” he heard from somewhere in the crowd.

A chorus of giggles and numbers, a high stakes bidding war, broke out, as if whoever guessed would win a night with him.

He pretended he hadn’t heard, but it was apparent that Lady Noir had as she did a flip off her baton and landed next to him, sidling close.

“He is the cat’s meow, hm?” She grinned a Cheshire Cat grin. “But who cares about him when you can have a kitten.” She raised her voice, “Right, boys?”

Basically every man in the vicinity started murmuring their agreement, their bulbous eyes following her as she did a cat-walk strut around the circle that had formed.

Aphid gaped at her. The girls gaped at her. The men, of course, were gaping at her.

Their Miraculous started beeping.

“How sad, we have to go.” She blew a kiss at the crowd. “Don’t miss me too much.”

She whisked herself away. He followed, averting his eyes when she transformed back, forced to rush to his chimney yet again as his own transformation wore off.

He fed Tikki, his jaw locked. “Is there a reason you’re being more…amiable to that?”

“I decided to fight fire with fire. Just because I’m flirty doesn’t mean anything and just because people say stuff about me doesn’t make it true.”

He didn’t really like that tactic, but it was her life and he couldn’t really fight her on it. Besides, who was he to talk? During his Adrien interviews he put on a façade of the easygoing, charismatic angel child. It did make life easier to be someone you’re not for a camera and then go home to be yourself, without the masks that everyone wore.

“Just…be careful, Lady Noir.”

“Don’t worry. I can look out for myself.”

From then on, she was never shy, only flirty, especially whenever there was an audience. It was hard for him to be around, given how she’d responded the first time they’d been around a man who had said inappropriate things to her.

To the media, they thought it was her way of acting out and wanting more positive attention. Yes, she’d told him for herself that it was fighting fire with fire, but Aphid wasn’t sure if he believed her. Either way, he tried adjusting to her flirtier self, not standing in the way of it, but not approving of it either. Maybe she did feel the need to be over the top for some reason. It scared him to think that maybe this was who she really was and he hadn’t known. And he may never know who she is, given their secret identities, but he couldn’t help feel that she was now wearing a mask on top of a mask.

A few days later, he found Marinette watching videos of Lady Noir, who had apparently created a social media account. He knew it was the real one and not some cosplayer, but he still had to do a double take, blurting out, “What’s that?” as if he didn’t already know.

“She’s already got a few hundred thousand followers,” Marinette said, swiping through some content of flirtatious winks and blown kisses. Her most popular videos involved recording Aphid without his noticing.

He almost grabbed Marinette’s phone as he watched multiple videos of him having no idea that Lady Noir was making faces behind him in the middle of fights. There was even one of him drinking coffee, his face tired beyond belief before their night patrol, his back sporting a “Lady Noir is better than Aphid” complete with a cat doodle sticky note. It was now trending, with people editing the video or doing their own renditions of it.

What the heck?

This time he did take Marinette’s phone, scrolling through video after video. When it got to the night Lady Noir had somehow snuck a whoopie cushion under his foot when he’d squatted down, he said, “She seriously recorded that?”

He needed to buy a spray bottle.

“You don’t look like you think it’s funny,” Marinette observed.

He smoothed out his face, biting his tongue. He hadn’t meant to say anything out loud. “I just don’t think he’s someone who cares for that sort of thing.”

“I’m sure if she stops we’ll find out, won’t we?” She took a sip of her water. “Maybe she’s just trying to get Aphid to laugh.”

Adrien gave her phone back. “Maybe Aphid is too busy trying to save Paris to care about jokes and just finds it irritating.”

“Maybe he needs to remember that he’s allowed to have a little bit of fun too.”

“Really, Marinette?” He stood up. “You’re one to talk. You’re the Aphid in our partnership and it’s never about fun.”

“I guess you’re right. I’m no fun.” She brought her knees up to her chest. “Do you hate her or something?”

“Lady Noir?” He pulled back, not expecting Marinette of all people to have this conversation with him. “No. I don’t know her, so I don’t have much of an opinion. She saves Paris, from what I can tell, but…”

“But?”          

“I wonder why she’s being so flirty all of a sudden.”

Marinette looked towards the mirror. “Maybe she’s shy and didn’t feel comfortable at first.”

He sat down next to her, pointing and flexing his feet. “No. I think she feels forced into it because society peer pressures us into being what they think we should be.”

Marinette shrugged. “She looks happy to me.”

“But is she?”

She rearranged, sitting crisscross. “Are you happy?”

He didn’t even have to think about it. “No.”

Marinette didn’t say anything.

“It has nothing to do with dance. It’s everything else,” he explained. “Are you happy?”

“Not at the moment.” Marinette averted her eyes. “Don’t act like you know her. You don’t.”

But I do, he wanted to retort. But even that was a lie. He didn’t know Lady Noir. Not really. So instead he said, “You’re right. I don’t.”

She went back to her quiet, frustrated self as he tried to fix his posture, his choreography, and anything and everything to do with his relationship with Marinette. 

                                                                               /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

That night, he had plenty to say to his cat. She’d fortunately agreed to meet him on their night off, though she came prowling onto the roof a bit late.

“Lady Noir,” he greeted.

She let out an exasperated huff. “Okay, I already know I’m getting a lecture. Out with it.”

“I saw your social media today.”

She held a clawed finger to her lip, batting her green eyes. “That little thing?”

“You have a million followers?”

“I do?” She reached for her baton, face lighting. “Wow! That grew fast. I’ve made hiss-tory as an influencer now.”

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “I know you’re a super hero and can basically do whatever you want, but it would have been nice if you at least talked it over with me first.”

She leaned against the wall. “May I post montage videos of you making silly faces during our fights?”

“I don’t make faces.”

She showed her the latest video she’d posted right before their meeting, where he was indeed making very silly faces as he dodged harpoons, lightning, and shamrock throwing stars that turned people into leprechauns.

He counted to ten in his head before responding. “What’s the point of these exactly?”

“So everyone knows who we are. Not just people who save Paris, but people.” She went through more footage she’d gotten of him, talking to some kids after an akuma battle, finding a stuffed animal that got lost, petting dogs as the camera flipped onto her, pouting. “I want our public image to actually be what we deserve it to be. I’m changing the narrative.”

It wasn’t a bad idea, really. Social media was a way better outlet than the news, at least when it came to the younger generations. And she could control the message.

“And I already know the rules. No political or personal opinions, nothing that gives away our secret identities, all that jazz.”

He had to admit, she’d thought it all out. “What about those sexy cat ones you posted?”

“Do you like them?” she asked.

He kept his revulsion down. “No. I like you being you, my lady. And no, I don’t really know who that is, but I know this isn’t it.”

She raised a brow. “You really don’t have a preference other than that?”

“Be you,” he urged.  

“Sorry to disappoint you, Aphid, but if I’m going to be me, you’re going to have to deal with some flirtations.” She rolled her eyes. “How torturous.”

He took a step closer, a finger under her chin. “No making any jump scare videos of me.”

She took his hand and kissed his finger, smiling. “I make no such promises.”

                                                                             /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Lady Noir blew up overnight. The public couldn’t get enough of her videos, all for different reasons. Adrien had to admit, she was a bit of a genius when it came to the types of videos she’d posted. There was something for anyone. Serious videos of them saving people? Check. Videos of her making fun of Aphid for the girls who really wanted a closer look at him behind the scenes? Check. People who were there for seductive girls in black leather?

He wished those weren’t there at all.

Chloe was now obsessed with her, even if it was for all the wrong reasons. She wouldn’t shut up about her.

“Look.” Chloe shoved her phone in his face of the latest video she’d posted. “How does she almost have as many followers as I do?”

And none of them are bots either, Adrien thought. “I guess we’re all cat people deep down.”

“Cats are gross. They clean themselves with their tongues and cough up hair.”

Adrien went back to fiddling with his food, trying to keep his expression pleasant considering each of their dates always happened to have paparazzi surrounding them.

The one good thing about being around Chloe was she hadn’t mentioned Marinette since the day he’d yelled at her in the studio. She’d been on relatively good behavior. For some reason, she didn’t want him to break up with her. He guessed it was because no one else actually wanted to hang out with her since she was basically an evil queen, which was pretty sad.

His akuma alert went off right when paint started splattering all across the windows of the hotel.

“Oh, look. An akuma attack. You should go out there and see if you can ask her for social media advice or whatever,” Adrien said hurriedly, already sprinting for the door.

He showed up where the akumatized person was causing chaos, grateful Lady Noir was already there, taking care of business. He had to admit she was always efficient when it came to their fights, even if she had started acting like a jester.       

As soon as the fight was over, he heard Chloe’s voice. “Lady Noir!”

He turned to find Chloe barreling her way to the front of the crowd.         

“Just what we needed,” Lady Noir said between clenched teeth.

“Do you know who she is?” Aphid asked, as if he’d never seen her before in his life.

“She’s dating that Agreste boy,” Lady Noir filled in.

“That model with his face everywhere?”

“Yes. You just so happened to beat him for hottest in Paris this year.” Her eyes flitted up to his. “Or did you not remember how attractive you are?”

He cleared his throat. “It’s not on my mind a lot.”

“Really?” she mused. “It’s on my mind all the time.”

His face heated.

Before he could stammer a reply, Chloe barked out, “Lady Noir, I was hoping you would guest star in some of my content.”

“That’s really kind to offer, but I’m too busy to accept. I’m sorry.”

“Too busy for me? You saved some cat stuck in a tree yesterday.”

“What can I say?” She winked, giving a peace sign with her fingers. “Felines take pride in helping one another.”

Her eyes narrowed and went to Aphid. “What about you, bug boy?”

He almost sputtered, not expecting her to target him for once. “Oh. Uh…I can’t. I’m busy that day.”

“I haven’t given you a day.”

He could feel Lady Noir’s purr of laughter building. He shrugged. “I’m booked is all.”

“My daddy will have something to say about this.” She thrust a picture of herself into Lady Noir’s hand. “The least you could both do is sign this picture.”

“Shouldn’t we be signing pictures of…?” Lady Noir sighed. “Never mind. Sure.”

They both signed.

“Oh, look at that. Our time is up.” Aphid grabbed Lady Noir’s hand, saying goodbye to the crowd.

They ascended to the rooftops, finding a place to transform back where they couldn’t see each other.

He smoothed a finger over Tikki’s head as she ate.

“I don’t know how Adrien does it,” Lady Noir commented from her side of the wall.

Tikki looked up at him, frowning as he answered, “He’s a celebrity, so maybe he’s forced into it.”

“Maybe.”

He transformed back into Aphid, coming out of his hiding spot. “And what was with that whole thinking of me as being attractive thing?”

“Don’t get your antennae all tangled. I meant your heart is what I find attractive.” Her smile grew as she emerged from the shadows. “Not that I disagree with Paris on who was voted hottest this year.” She grabbed her tail, casually swinging it. “Speaking of, do you have a girlfriend?”

It was the question he least expected. “I—no.”

He’d answered without thinking. Was it an honest answer? Kind of. Should she have an answer at all? No.

She took a few steps closer, eyes glowing. “I’m available as well. How interesting.”

“We can’t date,” he said tiredly. “Even if we were interested in each other, we have our secret identities to keep.”

She put a hand to her chest dramatically. “I never said anything about abandoning our sacred oaths.”

“There was no oath,” he deadpanned.

“I’m merely pointing out that we’re both single and just so happen to have a lot in common.”

“Oh really?” He crossed his arms. “Like what?”

“I’m a super hero, you’re a super hero.” Her mouth opened as if that fact was mind blowing. “I live in Paris, you live in Paris. I’m incredibly funny and you’re, well, trying your best.”

“Why does everyone think I’m not funny? I can be funny.” He shook his head. “The point is, this thing is a job to me. I’m going to stay professional.”

She groaned. “You’re such a sourpuss.”

“One that’s super over the flirtations tonight.” He checked the time on his yo-yo, wincing. “I was in the middle of something before this. I need to get back.”

“Not without your fact.”

He thought on it. “I think it would be really cool to ride a bear. You know, if there was no potential to be mauled.”

“Is that something you think of often?”

“Only in your presence, given you cause insanity.”

Her grin widened. “I make you crazy?”

He held back a groan. “What’s your fact?”

“I was forced to take piano lessons for a few weeks as a child, but they couldn’t get me to sit still during the music, so my parents gave up.”

“Interesting. So you’re not musically gifted at all, then?”

“I have other talents.” She sidled close, kissing his cheeks. “Good night, Aphid. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

He took a step towards her, kissing her knuckles, his eyes flitting up to hers. “Oh, I assure you they won’t.”       

Her lips thinned. He smiled. “Good night, my lady.”

It was a bit of a thrill, to match her teasing with his own, hopefully get her to figure out that they’d never work on him.

He decided to skip the rest of dinner considering the akuma attack had interrupted it, making sure to have his driver pick him up instead of fling himself home with his yo-yo like he wanted. When he transformed back in his room, he had ten voicemails from Chloe saying how unhelpful Lady Noir and Aphid were.

Tikki nibbled on a macaron, listening in with an irritated expression. Tikki, who he’d never heard say a negative thing about anyone (except for Plagg), didn’t like Chloe.

In some ways, it made him feel better. His dislike of Chloe wasn’t crazy. Then again, if the most Jesus-like being he’d ever met couldn’t look at Chloe without her eye twitching, he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to continue handling fake dating her.

“Maybe you should talk to your father about not dating her again,” Tikki insisted. “Surely his brand being associated with her can’t be helping his sales that much.”

“They’re not. I checked.” He sighed. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think my dad just has me do stuff like this just for the sake of seeing how long I’ll accept being under his thumb.”

“You’re turning eighteen soon,” Tikki reminded him. “With the money you’ve earned from modeling, you could definitely move out and start making your own decisions.”

“Yeah.” Not that he had any idea what he wanted to do. And really, he was going to be stuck being Aphid until who knows when. “I’ll figure it out eventually. Right now I have enough going on with the dance competition and…dating.”

“Did he say when you can break up with her?”

“Nope.”

“Adrien.” She touched his nose. “You shouldn’t date Chloe if it doesn’t make you happy, even if your father hasn’t given his approval.”

“I know that’s how it should be, but I don’t want to make him angry. He’d probably lock me in a sarcophagus or something.”

Tikki drooped. “I really wish I could help more.”

He nuzzled her cheek with his finger. “Don’t worry, Tikki. You’re my little ray of sunshine. I don’t need anything more.”

She cheered up considerably and kissed his forehead, pretending to tickle him until he laughed.

Chapter Text

The day of the first round was finally upon them.

Marinette tried to tune out the masses of crew members and other dancers around her as she allowed a stranger to apply her makeup. Her mind was only allowed to run through their routine, a difficult task amidst the noisy hustle and bustle surging around her.

The only other subject she was allowed to think about was Adrien, who was sitting right next to her getting his own makeup applied.

He’d arrived on time, which had helped her stave off a panic attack. She’d been having continuous nightmares of ways things could go terribly wrong. An akuma attack in the middle of their performance. Adrien deciding not to dance. Losing all her limbs (yes, she’d dreamed that). The judges deciding not to even let them dance after a single critical look.

They had to be perfect. Absolutely perfect.

“Marinette?”

She couldn’t turn her head to look at him, even if she wasn’t in the middle of getting the finishing touches brushed across her skin. “Yes?”

“I was going to walk around a little, just to look around. Is that okay?”

She’d rather him not leave her side, but she also didn’t want him to feel like a prisoner. “Just be careful not to actually break a leg.”

He didn’t laugh. Not that she’d expected him to. She hadn’t meant it as a joke, even though she probably should have to try to lighten the mood, something she was really bad at doing.

The makeup artist finished up.

“Did you want to come with me?” he offered, his eyes hopeful.

She bit the inside of her cheek. “Sorry, Adrien. I think I need to find a space and just…be.”

He nodded, walking off to some unknown part of backstage.

They were out of sync today. It didn’t bode well.

Marinette didn’t walk very far, not wanting to ruin her shoes or accidentally twist an ankle. They were already dressed and completely ready to go. It was still weird to see Adrien in professional ballet attire, even if she’d gotten him used to training in it to get him ready for this.   

She fidgeted, trying to breath normally. It’s not like she hadn’t been in productions before to know what backstage was like, but the intensity of everyone running around like chickens with their heads cut off was making her especially nervous. Her whole body kept trembling like it wanted to vomit her soul right out of her.

Focus, Marinette. Just hold it together until the end of the routine and then it doesn’t matter what happens.

“Marinette! Marinette!” a sickeningly familiar voice called out.

Marinette found Lila rushing over to her, as if they were the closest of friends who hadn’t seen each other in years, which couldn’t be farther from the truth. It was hard to explain Lila to people because no one ever believed her, but Marinette always suspected that whenever something suspicious happened at school or there was any sort of misunderstanding that couldn’t be explained between students, it was Lila’s fault.

It was even worse as they went through dance together, given there were less girls who could possibly be causing the same issues. And she knew Chloe wasn’t one to come up with convoluted schemes to inflict misery—she was just mean and never did anything to hide it.

But not Lila. If you looked in a dictionary, her picture was what should be given as the example for toxic. Marinette could put up with Chloe’s bullying, but Lila was a different kind of unsettling.

And it was too late to hide from her. “Hi, Lila.”

“Oh, wow!” Lila pulled her into a hug. She reciprocated as little as possible. “You’re still in the competition?”

Marinette pulled away. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I was there when Adrien chose you, remember?”

Marinette tried to avoid thinking about Lila and Chloe as much as possible, especially with anything involving dance. She’d needed to focus that day, just like she needed to focus now. She started walking away. “Yeah, well, we’re partners.”

Lila followed her. “That’s so amazing that he wasn’t super hurt by you rejecting him in front of millions of people.”

“We get along fine,” Marinette said.

“XY and I are absolutely perfect together.” She waved at her partner that was getting his makeup done. Marinette recognized him, considering he was one of France’s most popular artists. “He already dances. It’s crazy how it only took him an hour to memorize our routine.” She sighed dreamily. “He’s been teaching me all sorts of new dance moves as we’ve practiced, at least during all of our times together where we could do whatever we want since our choreo is so flawless. We’ve really clicked.”

That was the kind of partner she’d wanted. Someone who already knew what they were doing. She tried not to let her teeth grate together. “That’s great, Lila.”

“Is that not how it’s been for you and Adrien?”

“He’s new to dance, but he’s a fast learner.”

Lila’s mock surprise didn’t throw her. “That does make sense, poor thing. He’s always so sweet to go to morning practices with you.”

Marinette blinked. “How do you know about those?”

“Chloe told me he always leaves her place before the sun is even up to go.” Lila batted her eyes. “Isn’t it romantic, how he apologized for yelling at her a few weeks ago showing up with roses and spending the night with her?”

He’d apologized for standing up for her? Had it all been an act? Had he told Chloe to show up and run into him so he could make a huge deal out of it and look like a hero?

And how could he sleep with such a witch?

Marinette mentally shook herself out of it. She wasn’t going to trust a thing that came out of Lila’s mouth, whether it was about some mundane thing or her partner.

“Yeah, that’s romantic,” Marinette deadpanned.

“Say, if you could have your pick of any of the dancers, who would it be?” Lila asked. “They even got a few Olympians to dance!”

Marinette looked around the room, spotting the various famous people. They looked like they belonged here, not a hint of nerves. The best of the best athletes in the entire world, snatched up by other dancers. “I’d choose—”

“Oh, hi Adrien!” Lila gushed. “It’s so nice to see you.”

Marinette whirled around, finding Adrien towering over her, sullen. He said a quick hello before turning in the opposite direction.

“Adrien.” Marinette rushed after him, cursing her bad luck. “Adrien, slow down.”

She caught up with him when he got to the farthest part of backstage. His hair was disheveled.

“I wasn’t talking badly about you, I promise,” she said.

“Then what dancer were you going to pick then?” He shifted his weight. “I know I’m not exactly the type of celebrity that’s perfect for this kind of thing.”

“She’s just trying to get into my head. She knew you were standing there and was trying to get me to say something that would throw us off.”

He ran a hand over his face, his other hand jittering at his side. “I know what she’s like. But you still didn’t answer my question. You would have picked someone else.” He hung his head. “Maybe you should have gotten XY as your partner.”

Marinette looked back over at where XY was standing, barking at the girl applying his makeup. She grabbed Adrien’s hands. “I don’t want XY. I want you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re just saying that so I dance well.”

“No.” She swallowed. “I’m really glad it’s been you. Despite everything, we’ve gotten this far.”

“Everyone’s gotten this far, Slippers. We haven’t even started yet.”

“No, I mean I…don’t hate you like I did,” she muttered, dropping his hands.

“Does that mean you forgive me?”

She took a deep breath, not looking at him. “I don’t know. I’m still figuring it out, but…I don’t want you thinking I want someone else. Because I don’t.”

“Even if we get kicked off the show tonight?”

She held back a wince and thinking through that torturous scenario and turned to face him. “We’re not going to get kicked off. We’re too great for that.”

He frowned. “Why are you so sure?”

“Because my dance partner is Adrien Agreste and he’s been dancing his butt off for this exact moment.”

He shook his head.

She cupped his face, shy, but needing him to understand. “Adrien, I do believe in you. And you’ve done so much for me.” She ran a thumb over his cheek. “Even if we do lose, I won’t be mad at you. I’m so thankful for everything.”

Tears formed in his eyes. “I’m really sorry about the banana. I should have—”

He choked on his words. Marinette pulled him in for a hug. “It’s okay. I…forgive you.”

“Really?”

She took a deep breath. “Really.”

He nuzzled his face into the side of her neck, pulling her closer.

They stayed like that for a minute, gathering strength from one another. It was weird to want this sort of closeness to him. To want to comfort him.

One of the crew members found them. “You guys are up next.”

Marinette pulled away, embarrassed.

Adrien sniffed. “I need my makeup redone.”

“I’ll go with you,” she offered. Until they danced, she didn’t want to leave his side. As if he’d somehow slip away and leave her if she didn’t glue herself to him.

He slipped his hand into hers, causing her to tense, before walking back to makeup. It had seemed absentminded, or maybe he wanted the comfort of her presence too. The promise that she wouldn’t leave.

His makeup was fixed quickly. They got into their positions, waiting for the cue to go on stage.

“You look incredible, by the way,” he whispered to her.

“Thank you.”

She was too frazzled to tell him he looked amazing himself, not that she thought he needed another person blowing up his ego. The nerves were starting to set in. It was true that she wanted Adrien as her partner now, but she couldn’t lose. If she lost…

He put a hand on her lower back. “You’re the best dancer here, Marinette. You’ve been doing everything you can for us to win. You've got this.”

“We.” Her eyes flitted up to him. It was the first time she’d truly thought of them being partners. Her hand came to his, squeezing. “We've got this.”

They went on stage, their steps syncing together as they got into place, waiting for the music to start.

It was always like holding her breath, waiting for it to begin. A forced, painful pause in her life before she was allowed to do what she was born to do. She ignored the vast sea of people in the audience and the judge’s table. This was about her and Adrien, no one else.

Her music started trickling in through the speakers.

They came to life. She’d choreographed the routine to start very heavily on ballet elements and, as the routine went on, to become a mix of other types of dances.

She’d woven a story. The theme was a night in Paris. What was more Parisian than love? The beginning of the routine had them both shy. Getting to know one another. Him, flirtatious in his pursuit while she encouraged his advances, teasing him along. 

Adrien sold it. He really could dance now. No, he wasn’t a professional, but to the average viewer, he looked it. She’d made sure to pick moves that he exceled in, bringing out the best of his abilities, which actually included a lot of lifts. While his flexibility and technique could use some work, from day one he’d been amazing at lifts. She’d added as many as she could to their routine, hoping it would boost their score and audience appeal.

They ran through a series of pirouettes, a barrel turn (a type of leap where, according to Adrien, they looked like monkeys), and she performed a pas de chat into Adrien’s arms.

He lifted her perfectly, balancing them both as she ascended into a handstand, her body revolving, her legs split and straight, toes pointed.

One lift down, Marinette thought as she landed gracefully, continuing on with their routine, where she spent more and more time in Adrien’s arms.

Their eyes connected throughout the routine, silently communicating. It was one of her favorite things about partner dancing. They didn’t really need words anymore, really. He knew what she needed from him, after so many hours together. She knew when to adjust, what he struggled with, how to help.

After another complicated series and a successful lift, Adrien went down on one knee, taking off her pointe shoes with the romance of a prince. The audience’s screams of delight broke through her focus, but she ignored them as the music changed into pop, their movements now layered with hip-hop, ballroom, and contemporary.

She didn’t want the audience to get bored of their dance, or think they would only be prancing around on their toes the whole time. She’d wanted their dance to be fun. Savory. Thrilling.

Marinette spun in his arms, flourishing as they landed in their final pose—a dip.

The audience burst into exhilarated applause.

Adrien grinned, his chest rising and falling. He pulled her to standing.

She wrapped herself in his arms, gasping for breath and shaking. They’d done it. They’d actually finished their first routine.

And it’d been good.

The audience stood up, still roaring for them. She hoped it was for their dance and not just because Adrien was Adrien. He blew the crowd a kiss, making her want to roll her eyes, but she held it back, deciding to wave instead.

The judges had to quiet the audience down, something she hadn’t heard them have to do for the other dancers, before giving their feedback.

“You were both wonderful. The amount of dance you had to perform in such a short amount of time is an amazing feat, Adrien,” one of the judges said.

“Your lifts were excellent to behold,” commented another.

“Your chemistry could use some work,” said the last one. Marinette froze. That was the best they’d ever done. She continued, “Make sure you show your emotions as you dance, Marinette. Do that, and you’ll be flawless.”

Marinette nodded, smiling a very tight smile.

The hostess came out, along with the other dancers. “Wow, we have such amazing talent on this show, don’t we?”

The crowd screamed.

“Unfortunately, it’s time for some of our amazing stars to hang up their dancing shoes.” A note was handed to her. “Here are the six pairs of our original dozen heading to our next round.” A dramatic pause. “Lila and XY!”

Everyone clapped as Lila and XY hugged, Lila really hamming it up, crying what Marinette guessed were fake tears.

Her hands formed fists, which she stuffed in her tutu.

With every passing pair announced, Marinette’s stomach sank lower. Were they seriously not good enough? Was this the end of her career?

There was only one pair left to call. She squeezed her eyes tight, praying.

“…And Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupain-Cheng!”

“We did it?” Marinette asked, dazed.

Adrien pulled her into a hug, squeezing tight.

She hugged him back, her face buried into his neck as she repeated, “We actually did it?”

They waved, bowed, and curtseyed, all smiles as the hostess started talking about the next performance. It was hard for Marinette to take any of it in.

“Congratulations to the partners who get to move on! For this next round, we’ll be honoring the super heroes of Paris.” The hostess stepped to the side, revealing glorified cosplay dancers dressed as Aphid and Lady Noir cha-cha-ing their way across the stage. “Our dancers have to pay tribute to our glorious saviors with costume and choreography themed to their heroics!”

Marinette’s heart ricocheted into her throat. They wanted her to dress up as Lady Noir?

A series of swear words went off in her head, but she smiled brightly to the cameras, giving one final curtsey as the crowd continued its cheers.

Chapter Text

Marinette beat him to the studio the next morning. Not that Adrien had expected differently, but he hadn’t been expecting her to look like she’d spent all night lying awake.

He’d been a bit hurt by her last night. They’d won and, instead of celebrating, she’d looked even more panicked than before, demanding that he show up to their morning dance session, as usual. Not much of a thank you for being a constant sore mess of sleep deprived muscles or anything.

Yes, he had to admit he was a bit worried about dressing up as Aphid, but he didn’t understand Marinette’s shaken look when she wasn’t going through the potential crisis of having her secret identity unmasked on a reality television show.

Still, he decided to play nice.

“Geez, what happened to you?” he asked as he took in the dark circles under her eyes, dropping his bag next to hers. “Mad you can’t dance in your sleep?”

She scowled. “I could dance circles around you in my sleep. Literally.”

He sidled next to her, batting his lashes. “Mad you were dreaming of me?”

“Please, Pigeon. I may have said I forgive you, but that’s laughable.”

Adrien soured, but kept his voice casual. “What is it then? We moved onto the next round. You should be happy.”

He was telling himself that as much as her.

Marinette balled her hands into fists. “I am not being Lady Noir.”

Most girls in the city didn’t really like Lady Noir, but from what he figured, it was because they wanted to be her in order to get to the very popular Aphid. Then again, he’d thought Marinette was a pretty big fan. “Oh, so a cat has your tongue.” Her expression was soul curdling. He blinked. “Are you that against being her? You follow her on social media.”

“I’m not some sexy cat.”

She said it like a swear. Adrien couldn’t help but smile. “You don’t mind wearing tights and everything else though?”

“It’s not about that,” she affirmed, letting her toe scuff the ground. He watched a bit too closely, unused to her being so casual and loose with her posture. “What about you, then? Do you want to be Aphid?”

His lips thinned. “No.”

“Why not?” She stepped closer, fluttering her lashes in what was probably revenge. “You’d look like him. You practically have his hair already.”

Adrien forced his hand not to run through it. “I don’t want to be Aphid either. I’m not…that great.”

“Most of Paris would disagree.”

He tried not to scoff. “I’m not the one going around saving people all the time.” Not true. “I’m just a popular person who poses practically nude in front of things. How is that something remotely the same? It’d be an insult to Aphid for me to dress up as him.”

Marinette huffed and sat on the floor. “We’re not going to get out of the theme. It has to be themed and we have to dress up as them.”

Adrien sat next to her in a straddle. She slapped one of his flexed feet. He jabbed it at her halfheartedly, but she caught it.

Despite jiggling his leg, her hands remained. His cheeks burned. After crying in front of her last night, things had felt a bit different. Heck, she’d had her hands on his cheeks for a nonrelated dance reason. She’d wanted to comfort him.

Last night he should have been lying awake thinking about how to get out of dressing up as Aphid for the next routine, but all he’d thought about was all their little touches they’d had yesterday that hadn’t had a thing to do with choreography.

He cleared his throat. “Let go.”

“Lower your leg into my lap,” she demanded.

He did, allowing his foot to rest on her thigh. Her hands sculpted his foot into the proper position, her nimble fingers caressing it.

His own fingers dug into the floor. Adrien knew it was a dance thing, but it was still really weird to let someone touch his foot—especially the way Marinette was. She must have been really engrossed on figuring out a plan for their costumes because after fixing his flexed foot, her hand stayed on it.

Her thumb stroked the top of his foot, her palm moving to mold into the contours as she pressed down again, making sure his foot stayed pointed, fingers running along his toes. Her eyes stayed on his foot, narrow in concentration, as his eyes continued to widen the longer she made contact.

It was killing him. “Marinette?”

Her head jolted up. “What if we switched?”

His eyes were still on her hand. “Switched…?”

“You be Lady Noir, or Man Noir or whatever, and I’ll be Aphid.” She pressed harder. “It’ll be different from the other dancers and set us apart—not that it should be about anything but the dance itself. The viewers will like it, at least, and that way maybe we can feel less like frauds?”

“That’s not against the rules?”

“They didn’t say that it wasn’t.”

If he wasn’t so focused on his foot, he would have given it more thought, but there were a lot less problems with being a cat than being himself. “That’ll work.”

“Good.” She patted his foot.

“Are you going to stop that now?”

Her hands squeezed tight, as if just now realizing where they were. “Oh.” She let go, standing. “We have a lot of work to do for a new routine. Stand up.”

He did, his foot still tight from the stretching, off kilter from her hands. He bit his lip. He’d also hoped there’d be a changing of the winds so to speak, given he’d proven himself as a reliable dance partner and she’d shown him so much more compassion. So far, all he’d gotten was a weird foot massage thing and it hadn’t been intentional.

“So…what kind of angle are you thinking of doing for the choreo?”

Marinette went through a series of warmups at the barre. “What do you mean?”

He mimicked her movements. “If we’re doing a dance about Lady Noir and Aphid, I wasn’t sure how you were going to portray their relationship.”

“You mean as romantic or not?” Exactly. Marinette stretched her arms up above her head. “I wasn’t sure yet.”

He watched his posture in the mirror, trying to do exactly what she was doing. “It doesn’t look like they’re a couple.”

Her fingers brushed his. “No, but romance would give us more appeal.”

He pulled away. “It wouldn’t be real though.”

“Are you that against them being a couple?”

Adrien almost scoffed. Lady Noir was great, but he still never knew what to make of her. “I just like telling it as it is.”

“You mean like how you’re fake dating Chloe?”

“You said you didn’t believe that.”

She held her chin high, not responding.

“Do you ship Lady Noir and Aphid together?” he asked.

“You have to admit there’s something special about falling in love with your super hero partner…right?”

“Sure, but…he just seems like the kind of guy who wouldn’t want anything more.”

“Why?”

“He’s kind of distanced with her? It’s a job. One he doesn’t get paid for. To make it out to be more than it is…”

“Maybe he’d enjoy it more if he let himself. And maybe he’d see there’s more to her if he actually looked.”

“Lady Noir is amazing,” he said. “It’s just they might not be perfect for one another when it comes to being together.” Before she could retort, he said, “And it doesn’t matter anyway given they have secret identities, right? So they probably don’t even tell each other who they are considering they don’t want Hawk Moth getting both of their Miraculous.”

“You’re obviously anti-love.”

“No.” But Aphid and Lady Noir weren’t meant to be. “Love is super important. But instead of that, we could do it to some song about not giving up or friendship or something like that instead, which I’m sure would help us stand out if we didn’t go with the romantic angle.”

“Do you really think Aphid would hate it if we did a dance about them being in love?”

Yes, but he had to be less blunt about it. “If I were Aphid, I wouldn’t exactly like seeing people depict me in a way that wasn’t accurate to who I am.”

Marinette grimaced. “I can’t really ask Aphid what he’d want.”

“I can do research on some songs and send them your way?” he suggested.

“Fine.”

“Thanks, Marinette. I just…they do a lot for the city and I want whatever we do to make them feel seen.”

“I’m sure Aphid, at least, will be thrilled.” He was wary of her tone, but didn’t have time to reply as she continued, “This is none of my business, but I have a question. About last night.”    

“Yes?”

“I…never mind.” She resumed first position. “Totally unrelated…I’m throwing Alya’s birthday party tomorrow night. I was wondering if you’d like to go.”

He’d been invited to a few celebrity birthday parties before, but that was all promotional and the parties themselves weren’t the real deal. To be invited to an absolutely ordinary birthday party was more than he could ever hope for. “Really?”

“As friends,” she said. “And Chloe isn’t allowed so don’t you dare invite her.”

Adrien put up his hands in defense. “I won’t. Yes, I would love to go.”

“All right. I’ll text you the details later.” She faced the mirrors. “And you better not be late.”

“I promise I’ll be there on time. Thank you.”

He could have cried. Finally, he was living a somewhat normal teenage life. Maybe this party would be his gateway into normalcy.

                                                                             /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Adrien had been thrumming with excitement all day. For once, he’d been nervous about picking out which clothes to wear, not wanting to come off as some rich jerk, but also not wanting to dress down and get looks for being too casual, like he was above looking nice for Alya’s birthday.

Did he bring a present? What did Alya like? She was a reporter and vlogged about Aphid and Lady Noir, but besides that he really didn’t know anything about her. Not to mention he couldn’t get something too expensive or too cheap.

Marinette had even cancelled dance for the day, wanting to give them enough time to get ready for the party and take a bit of a celebratory break for making it to the next round. He’d lied to Chloe about still having dance, so she wasn’t bugging him. Hawk Moth hadn’t sent out any akumas and it was actually turning out to be a good day.

Tikki snuggled in the pocket of his dress shirt of the outfit she’d picked out for him (she had good style). He’d ended up getting Alya a journal, the cover reading, “Only the strongest women become journalists.” Hopefully she’d like it.

He hopped back in his driver’s car, which promptly dropped him off at the dance studio, where Marinette had decided to hold the party, which was a surprise to absolutely no one. God help the person who spilled their drink on her pristine floor.

His driver pulled away, but not before Adrien noticed smoke rising nearby. A lot of it.

Adrien stayed rooted on the spot, watching it billow. Whatever was wrong, Aphid could probably help take care of it. If people were in danger, he could save them.

But he’d promised Marinette he’d be at this party. He was half an hour early to help her set up and prove he could actually be dependable for once.

What good was being dependable for a party when people’s lives were at stake?

He hid in the alley, transforming and finding the source of the fire two blocks away, a multi-story building. The fire department was already there, but the flames were roaring and there were too many screaming people for them to save by themselves.

Aphid flung himself into the building, starting with the top floors, going in and out of each room and carrying everyone to safety.

Time blurred, the heat making him dizzy. He kept going, passing people off to the firemen as soon as they were able to catch up.

He coughed, sweating bullets as he exited and came into a huddle of first responders. “Is that everyone?”

“There’s still an older man trapped on the first floor that we couldn’t get to,” a fireman said.

“The building is going to collapse any second,” another replied.

He took a deep, stuttered breath before running back in, using his yo-yo’s string to hold up the front entrance.

“Hey! Is anyone in here?” he yelled above the flames.

“Here,” a faint voice called from the very back of the building.

Aphid hurried through, finding a collapsed frail figure face down.

“I’m going to get you out of here.” He turned the elder’s body over and froze. “You’re that man!”

The man he’d saved from getting hit by a car.

“Adrien,” he coughed.

A chill ran through him despite the building burning to a crisp. He shouldn’t have shown recognition, even if it’d been vague. “You know my name?”

“I was the one who gave you the Miraculous.”

It’d been the day he’d discovered the ancient box in his bag. The day he’d become Aphid.

He didn’t have time to ask his thousands of questions. Aphid picked up his tiny body. “I need to get you out of here.” 

“You must take the Miracle Box. It’s more important than I am.”

“What is it?”

He pointed a shaky finger towards the back of the wall, where a gramophone rested.

“That’s all you get before I take you to the hospital this time.” Aphid hurried over, grabbing it.

“I need you to be the Guardian.”

He felt like the young person in the meme helping an elderly person walk and they were going on about some random weird thing from back in their day. So he appeased him, too busy trying to keep them from being eaten by fire. “Yeah, I can do that.”

He coughed. Aphid ran through the building, dodging rubble as it collapsed. They were nearing the exit when the second floor came crashing down. Aphid threw the man towards the door. He rolled, coming to a halt with a groan, clutching his gramophone.

But at least he was alive.

Aphid squirmed until he could shimmy out from under the debris, grateful his suit was fire proof. He grabbed them both, hustling, trying to avoid coughing.

“I don’t have any time left, Adrien,” the man croaked. “You are a wonderful Ladybug.”

“We’re seconds from getting you out. We’re going to make it.”

“I know, but it’s simply my time.” He took a deep breath. “I, Wang Fu, relinquish the Miracle Box and name Aphid the new Guardian.”

Before Aphid could do anything, the gramophone in his hands had rose into the air, shifting into an ovular red box, bespeckled like his suit.

He went limp in his arms.

                                                                             /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

The man, Wang Fu, had been sent to the hospital. He was comatose and they weren’t sure if he was going to make it.

Aphid had retreated to a rooftop, studying the Miracle Box. After running his hands over it, over a dozen kwamis flew out of the spots.

Wayzz, the turtle kwami that had supposedly belonged to “Master Fu” explained everything to Aphid. That even if he recovered, he wouldn’t remember any of them. That giving up the Miracle Box stripped all of your memories away, Miraculous related or not.

That that would one day happen to him.

His fingers tightened on the box. He hadn’t asked for more responsibilities. He couldn’t hide over a dozen new kwamis from his father. Why was this on him?

And he still knew nothing. Yes, he had the kwamis to teach him, but he hadn’t even gotten the chance to speak to Master Fu about anything. It wasn’t fair to be thrown into being a super hero blind.

He stayed on the rooftop for a long time, processing. Trying to figure out if there was a way out of his new situation, but not finding one. Not when he’d lose his memories.

A group of people in the streets started singing, clearly having had a great night together.

Aphid swore. “The party.”

He’s promised Marinette he wouldn’t be late. It had to be past ten by now.

Aphid gathered up all the kwamis and zipped to the dance studio, since Marinette had reserved it for all eternity, and dropped his transformation. He stuffed the Miracle Box into his backpack, telling the kwamis to be quiet.

Adrien coughed. He'd inhaled a good bit of smoke that his magical healing had mostly covered, but there was only so much it could do. Tikki made a noise from his pocket. He glanced down and watched her pat the top of her head. Adrien ran some fingers through his hair, discovering ashes.

"You've got to be kidding me." He took out his phone, putting it in selfie mode to try to use it as a mirror and get rid of the evidence.

Adrien rushed through the doors, out of breath and disheveled, finding Marinette cleaning up streamers and balloons all by herself.

"The party ended," Marinette said, dropping a stack of plates into the trash while maintaining eye contact, looking more like she wanted to toss him into it.

He gulped. "Sorry. My photoshoot ran long. You know how my father is—"

"Do I? That's the excuse you always use."

"He keeps a tight leash."

"Funny, because I got a text from your driver saying you'd be up in a minute...hours ago."

He forced himself not to bite his lip or show any sign of guilt. He’d just lied to her and she knew it. Giving another excuse was going to be icing on the cake that he hadn’t been there to eat. 

"So really, where were you?" Marinette asked.

He came up with the only credible thing he could think of. "I had to buy Alya a present. I'd forgotten to, so I ran down the street and there was a fire." 

"Really, Adrien? A fire? That's the excuse you're going with?"

He pulled up the news app, showing footage, the news anchor interviewing one of the victims. She was holding her baby boys. "If it hadn't been for Aphid, I would have lost my entire family. If you're listening...thank you."

Despite the thanks, his stomach may as well have been full of acid. Adrien cleared his throat. "I got stuck in this ring of bystanders and all these police officers showing up. The whole street was blocked off. They wouldn’t let us leave.”

He hadn't realized how quiet she'd gotten. She was still watching the video, which was now replaying footage of Aphid climbing the walls and smashing the window in, pulling out family members one by one.

He wanted to ask if she was a fan. It seemed like it, with the way her entire face softened. The only time he'd ever seen her like that was when she was dancing and, even then, only rarely. 

Her eyes darted back up to his, stone cold. "You missed everything. I keep thinking that maybe I’m wrong about you. Maybe you are who you say you are. Then I give you a chance.” She tugged at a string of her hair. “Everyone was so skeptical about you coming to the party since they know we don’t exactly get along and you’re dating Chloe. And for once I said good things about you. I talked you up to all of them, and then you flaked.”

“I swear I didn’t mean to. I got here early to help you set up.” He gestured in the direction of Aphid’s latest escapade. “It’s just the fire—”

She shook her head, stepping away to throw more used plates away. “No one trusts you to be anywhere that you promise to be.”

"You're always rushing off too," he muttered.

Her nostrils flared. "I show up to everything."

"It's not like you've never been late before."

He'd seen it plenty of times. She would walk in to class late, or to group events, and have some sort of excuse. Sometimes she was even late to dance despite how much crap she gave him for showing up late on the first day. She gave excuses like she was helping with the bakery despite how she claimed her parents were super lax, and sometimes she didn't excuse herself at all. No one really ever questioned her about it—not when they knew she was the heart and soul of the school. The best dancer, the best friend, the leader.

All everyone saw Adrien as was trouble.

Marinette squared her shoulders. "I make sure everyone is taken care of."

Adrien snorted. "It's not like you're the only one."

Her neck strained up, as if to make herself taller. "You can't come into my school and act like you're better than everyone else while slacking off."

"That's not what I'm doing. I'm just saying you should lay off. I said I'm sorry and I had a good reason."

"You're right. I'm sorry." Her sarcasm cut deep. "I have no idea what it's like for life to be handed to me on a silver platter. It must be really hard."

"Do you think that's what my life is?"

"Clearly, if you don't even care enough about other people's time."

He wanted to yell at her about how hard it was to be his father’s son. How he was like a pack mule working day in and day out with no one caring if he was ready to collapse. And not only was he Aphid, how he was the one who was getting yelled at for saving a dozen people, but now he was the Guardian of the Miraculous and had to go through it completely and utterly alone.

"Forget it." Adrien pushed past her. "I don't need to prove myself to you."

But he always tried to anyway. He didn't like being on bad terms with anyone and there was something even more discomforting about Marinette despising him that made him keep trying, even if he didn't feel like she deserved it.

Adrien opened his bag when he was far enough away from Marinette, grabbing Alya’s present and dropping it on the floor before leaving. He paused before zipping up his bag, taking in the weighty image of the Miraculous Box, before hiding it away, taking it home, another burden to bear.

Chapter Text

Adrien hated being the Guardian.

The kwamis were little balls of energy, something that would never be allowed in his house if his father knew. He’d been forced to make them live in the box unless given the permission to leave. They had to obey him since he was the Guardian, which made him hate himself that he was so controlling over them, even if it was for their safety.

It just made him feel like his own father.

He tried to let them roam around his room as much as he could, but he was barely home with his packed schedule. He hid the box in his pool table and lived in constant fear that someone was going to splinter it open on a whim and take it, even when no one could possibly know he was the Guardian.

He hadn’t told Lady Noir.

He wasn’t really sure why. Maybe he was angry at her. He suspected her life was much more flexible and actually healthy compared to his own. If she’d been the one at the fire, she would have been the one to become Guardian, not him. He also thought that maybe if he told her, it’d become too real. Or that Hawk Moth would find out and come for him.

He’d gone to visit Wang Fu in the hospital, claiming to be a family friend on the off chance that maybe the kwamis were wrong about the memory loss. Wang Fu was no longer in a coma, but he didn’t know who Adrien was, which the doctors said was normal.

It wasn’t normal, it was magical, and it was no help to him.

Adrien had found a somewhat detailed letter in the Miracle Box with instructions on the kwamis and a few words of wisdom, like the fact that you could unify kwamis and even power up for special environmental-based needs, but other than that he had nothing.

It sucked.

To make matters worse, ever since passing the first round of Sensational, Adrien had been in his father's bad graces. The only two reasons he could think up were the fact that he hadn’t chosen Chloe as his dance partner and that his father’s sales had been doing poorly ever since the first akuma attack that had targeted an Agreste employee.

Despite dating Chloe and being the perfect student and model to boot, his father was disappointed in him. He shouldn’t expect any more from his cold-shouldered fashion icon. He’d never been good enough for his father, no matter how flawless the rest of the world saw him. Tikki was the only one who really understood him and made him feel loved unconditionally.

But even with the respite of her endearments, he was still working himself to the bone. Akuma attacks were at large, with the public’s opinion of Aphid and Lady Noir lower than ever despite all of Lady Noir’s hard work on social media. People were back to speculating that they were working for Hawk Moth, maybe earning a nice paycheck at pretending to be superheroes. Akumatized victims were practically being ostracized as coworkers tried to get them fired and others sued them for psychological damage.

Even Chloe didn't like Aphid. She'd been interviewed on her thoughts. Thoughts he, for some reason, had decided to rewatch on his yo-yo’s screen.

"He's so serious all the time and wouldn’t even create content with me," she'd said. "It's not getting him anywhere. If you're going to be a super hero, have fun with it, you know?"

"Aphid certainly is attractive," the host replied. "If you weren’t dating Adrien Agreste, would you ever consider dating him?"

"He wishes."

He wished he could pretend vomit. 

"Hey, bugaboy," Lady Noir crooned, her shadow looming over him. "Are you ready for patrol?"

She always had the worst timing. "Yeah."

Lady Noir gestured to his body, which was flat on the roof like a corpse. “Since when do you cat nap?”

He placed an arm over his eyes, not bothering to answer.

“Geez, what happened to you?”

“This is pointless. We’re not going to find Hawk Moth wandering around the city.”

“I agree, but it’s about more than that, remember? If we’re saving actual civilians from normal everyday things, maybe the tide will change in our favor.”

His anger burned. “Oh yeah? Since when do you go out and save people?”

“I do.”

“Not as much as me. When’s the last time you had to give up something personal for someone else?”

“I should more often, but I do.”

“You weren’t there at the fire,” he snapped.

She pulled back, for once too stunned to speak. Her voice was quiet. “Did something happen?”

He’d already said too much.

“Did someone die?”

“No.”

But he felt like he’d died. And that no one cared. He was in the ground, dirt piling up around him, and no one said a single thing except, Why isn’t he doing more?

Aphid tried to keep the tears from coming. He rubbed his eyes. “I can’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“Be a super hero.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“There has to be someone who’s better at it than me.” He looked up at her. “How about you be the new Aphid and I find someone to take the Cat Miraculous?”

“But…” She didn’t seem able to process that information. “But you’re the Ladybug Miraculous holder. You were chosen for this.”

“I’m choosing not to be. You take it.”

She shook her head, stepping away.

“You’d be fine,” he said. “You just act like you’re not able to be as responsible, but you can be.”

“It wasn’t meant for me, Aphid.”

“Fine,” he steamed. “I guess you’ll never learn my secret identity then.”

“What are you talking about?”

“If I was just some random guy,” or Guardian, “then you’d get to know who I really am.”

He wasn’t really sure what had made him say that. His head wasn’t exactly in the best place. And yet he really didn’t care if she knew. He was fed up with everything regarding the Miraculous. He was stuck being Guardian, but he didn’t have to be stuck being Aphid.

“We can’t know each other’s secret identities, even if one of us gave up our Miraculous. It’s too much of a risk,” she said calmly. “As for wanting to know your secret identity…” She was silent for longer than he expected. “I want to, but only if you actually want to tell me. Not that it matters because you can’t and that’s not really the issue right now anyway.”

“Can you please find someone else to be me?” he muttered.

Her black clad form stretched out next to him. “There’s no other you, Aphid. You’re our miracle maker.”

“It’s not me,” he emphasized. “It’s Tikki’s powers. I just show up.”

She shook her head. “Not everyone has the skills and heart needed to be you.”

“There are other people in Paris, my lady. There has to be someone else. Someone fun.”

“Fun?” Her nose shriveled. “Who cares if you’re fun?”

“You do. You said that.”

“Oh.” She sat next to him. “I’m sorry I said that. I really do think you’re funny though. I shouldn’t have given you a hard time. I didn’t know it was bothering you. I’ll never joke about it again, okay?”

Sure she wouldn’t.

“I know you can’t tell me details, but can you please tell me what’s going on? I want to be here for you.”

If he wasn’t so deep in despair, he would have been grateful that she was trying to hear him. That she wasn’t brushing off his feelings like dust. “You can’t be.”

Lady Noir scooted closer, resting her head against his chest. For once, it felt like affection without any ulterior motive. They stayed there, cradled together. He wondered if his heart was still beating, as frozen as he had gone as he held her.

He ended up falling asleep for what must have been at least an hour, not even putting a dent on how much sleep he’d missed. It was probably late into their second dance practice and he’d completely flaked. He couldn’t make himself care, especially after Marinette was mad at him again for not being at the party.       

She asked, “Do you feel better?”

The nap had been nice, but that didn’t solve all of his problems. “No.”

He didn’t know how to get up. How to move again.

“Can I get you some food?” Lady Noir’s hand came to his forehead, as if to check his temperature. “You need to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Aphid.”

He didn’t say anything.

“I know your preferences now, you know. I can go get you your favorites.”

He grunted.

She kissed his forehead. He couldn’t tell if it was flirty or motherly. “I’ll be back. I promise you can count on me.”

After a few minutes, he forced himself to stand up and messaged her through his yo-yo not to bother, that he was detransforming and heading home. He dropped into the alley below and walked home as Adrien, keeping his hood up and his head down the whole while.

                                                                           /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Adrien barely got himself out of bed the next morning and dragged himself to school. Despite his comatose state, it was obvious the second he started down the hall that something was happening. Students were buzzing with a sort of eager anticipation and there was some sort of table set up at the end of the hallway. He meandered his way there, finding Alya taking video of the whole thing for her vlog.

"What's going on?" Adrien asked.

"Marinette got the mayor on board to do a city-wide Aphid Day," Alya said. "They're having it a week from now, but she also got this social media campaign going for everyone who has ever been helped by Aphid to give their testimonies as a thank you."

She pulled a trending hashtag of Aphid up on her phone, scrolling through dozens of videos of people who had already posted. 

At that moment, he looked down the hall to see Marinette ordering around a group of students, telling them how to hang a banner with a picture of his hero face plastered on it. "Why is she doing this?"

"Maybe go ask her yourself."

She hadn’t even texted him last night to ask where he was during their practice that he’d missed. He was definitely dead to her now. "You know she hates me, right?"

"Wouldn't hurt to take some interest in what she's doing." 

“I’m sorry about missing your party,” he mumbled.

“Marinette gave me your present,” she said. “It was really thoughtful and I’m for sure going to use it.” She looked at him. “Your excuse checks out, Adrien. Which I can confirm for myself given I’m a strong female journalist, as you very well know.” She nodded towards Marinette. “Go talk to her.”

She went back to scrolling before joining Nino by the Aphid themed table.

He took a deep breath, his steps a bit too hesitant as he made his way over to Marinette and the group of other students floundering to keep up with the list of orders she was rattling off.

"Nice set up," he said.

She didn't even look at him as she handed someone a stack of ladybug dotted fliers. "If you're here to make fun of me, can this wait until our dance session? I'm busy."

"Are you a fan?"

"I'm merely trying to boost the morale of Paris. There have been a lot of akuma attacks lately and the more people remember that Aphid is there for them, the better our mental health will be." She swiped through some statistics, as if to prove her point. "Apparently the show wants to come out here and record me doing all this stuff."

His mood soured. "Anything to dance where you want, right?" 

She went back to using a stylus to go through her very long agenda. "Precisely."

"What about Lady Noir Day?"

"I think she gets enough attention, don't you?" 

His eyes flicked away. "No."

Her stylus paused. "Are you a fan?"

Adrien hesitated. "I'm just saying social media doesn't exactly treat her well either, since she's a girl who goes around being a seductive cat."

"She clearly doesn't care what people think."

He remembered that night on the roof, her crying in his arms. "Everyone cares."

"Maybe she only cares what Aphid thinks." She got busy with her phone. “I need you to talk to your father about an Aphid clothing design line. I'm sure it would be a great opportunity to advertise his brand and give it some good publicity by showing his support of Aphid."

It’s amazing how nauseous the thought of asking his father to do anything made him. “My father wouldn’t go for it.”

"Your father would be stupid not to.” She swiped at something. His phone chimed. "Attached you'll find a report on companies that have done advertisements or publicity involving positive messages with super heroes." She pointed at him with her stylus. "It’s no secret that your father’s stock has plummeted ever since one of his employees got akumatized. He’s going to need to find a way to put a positive spin on his brand.

“Not only that, but Alya said Lady Noir reached out to her and said she would support Aphid in any way that she could. When Alya brought up my modeling idea, Lady Noir agreed.”

His head spun at all the new information. "Modeling?"

"With you. Wearing Aphid inspired clothes." She put the stylus to her mouth, frowning. "But I'm guessing she'd only do it if it was Aphid related and obviously if she stayed in her suit. Still, she loves him and she'd do it for him."

Adrien opened his mouth. Closed it. "She loves him?"

Marinette stared at him head on. "It's obvious, isn't it?"

He swallowed, mouth dry. "You talk about all of this stuff so matter-of-factly. And you're a dancer."

Marinette put her phone down, raising and eyebrow. "And?"

"Why can't you show some emotion when it comes to all of this?" He gestured to all the other students rallying together to make Aphid banners and decorations. "You clearly care. This isn't just to look good for the show."

She put the stylus behind her ear, standing straight. "Here's the truth, Adrien. I'm a girl. If we're emotional, we're seen as bipolar, unstable freaks. And when we don't show any emotion, we're bitches. There's no winning either way for me, so unless I'm dancing, I'm choosing to get stuff done without having people think I'm going to cause an akuma attack."

"That's not what I—"

"Go talk to your dad. He'll say yes."

Adrien took a step back as she walked right past him, going over to a group of students and instructing them on how to blow up the red balloons.

Chapter Text

“Why can’t Aphid come model as well?” his father had asked Marinette on a video call.

Adrien had stood there, holding up his phone like a servant. He was glad for the chance not to be involved in the discussion. He was merely a pawn, after all.

“According to Lady Noir, Aphid isn’t able to make it. As for marketing, I believe that the association of Adrien and Lady Noir wearing Aphid’s colors will be more than enough.”

It was a bit odd to hear that Lady Noir had spoken on his behalf considering they hadn’t talked about this at all, but at the same time he appreciated being left out of this. One, because Aphid would never want to do it, and two, because he couldn’t be two places at once.     

His father’s response came late. “I see.”

A tame response with a lot of obvious dislike in it.

Marinette either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Wonderful. I’ll send you Lady Noir’s available times as soon as I hear them through the grapevine.”

It was what he’d grown to like about Marinette. Yes, her dislike of him broke his heart, but at least she freely expressed what she wanted. He wished he could be like that. Stubborn. Resilient. Actually fighting back instead of having no control.

Like now, as he waited at his father’s company for his lady to show up, but this time he wasn’t bedecked in his normal scarlet. He was just Adrien Agreste, supermodel.

His father had designed plenty of Aphid and Lady Noir related clothes in the span of a few days, hoping to have the lines shipped out as quickly as possible for Heroes Day, or Aphid Day, as a lot of people were calling it, Marinette included.

Lady Noir had requested that only one photographer and no other staff be present in the room with them. Her father hadn’t been happy with the demand, but had allowed it. Still, she was a bit off schedule, allowing him to peruse the new collection hanging on the racks.

There was a ladybug print leather boot, as well as the same design in sneakers, but everything else had to be more subtle for men to go around wearing it. His father had mostly focused on designing women's clothing. Polka dotted gloves that went to the elbow. A mask that matched his, as well as Miraculous replicas. Women's boots, skirts with added tulle, dresses.

There was even an athletic collection, which would probably appeal to the men more. It's not like women were quiet about how pleasing to the eyes it was to see him in his suit, as tight fitting it was.

His father didn't care about athletic fashion or anything that he couldn't consider art, but Marinette was right. This was about building his image and producing what the people wanted, not what he did.

“She’s sure taking her sweet time,” the photographer muttered, not used to models being problematic. In this industry, you either did what you were told or you got fired.

“Maybe she’s busy saving someone you know from getting hit by a bus,” he replied thickly.

They went back to waiting in silence.

A few minutes later, Lady Noir swung down from the shadows of the ceiling, landing without a sound.

He gulped. Usually, he wasn't intimidated by her, but that was because he had super powers to protect him. But without her never-ending affection directed his way, her claws were looking a whole lot sharper than normal.

Not to mention he’d left her without any notice the last time he was Aphid. She was probably furious with him, whether she knew it or not.

"Adrien Agreste," she said smoothly, extending her hand. "A pleasure."

He shook. "It's an honor to work with you."

"Quite."

He didn't miss the part where she didn't say likewise. "How do you feel about modeling?"

"It's a crude profession that sexualizes the human body and makes people into objects."

Adrien frowned. "Then why do you pose for the cameras after you save people?"

Her mouth thinned. She really didn't make any sense.

The photographer introduced himself, a lot politer than he was when they were waiting for her as he went through the basics of the shoot with her. 

"I know for confidentiality you can't go without the suit, but could you possibly accessorize?" the photographer asked.

"I'd love to." 

“Adrien, you already know the drill. Go change.”

He met Lady Noir’s eyes once more, feeling a bit protective of her. “I’ll be right back.”

Despite her brow being covered by the mask, he could tell she’d raised it. It’s not like he was implying she couldn’t take care of herself. If she knew the truth she wouldn’t have brushed it off.

Adrien returned from the partition wearing one of the athletic outfits, finding Lady Noir already posing by herself, a ladybug spotted scarf around her neck. She was doing an amazing job, finding all the right positions that made her look captivating, twirling the scarf in her claws, breathing in the scent of the fabric as if Aphid himself had just worn it.

She was a natural to the point where the photographer kept arranging her for solo photos in different accessories before deciding to bring Adrien into any of them.

“I don’t even have to tell her what to do,” he marveled to himself, checking over his work as Adrien joined her.

“You always seem to impress people,” Adrien commented, posing.

“It’s not hard when you’re naturally amazing,” she replied, slinking up next to him, meticulously adjusting her ladybug themed sweatbands.

How could she make such a stupid thing so sensual?

“Match her energy, Adrien,” the photographer ordered.

Adrien blinked. Yes, he’d done sexy posing before, but it was usual in a “I’m oblivious to my own appeal” sort of way. Lady Noir’s brand was the total opposite and he didn’t exactly want to match it.

“It’s for Aphid,” she said through gritted teeth. “So please just do it.”

“Are you talking to me or yourself?”

She let out a small hiss, which made it very difficult to keep a straight face and not take a few steps away.

“She’s a cat, not a snake! Get closer. Touch!”

“I bet your bite is worse,” he muttered, baby stepping towards her.

“You’d be right.” Her fingers skimmed his hip. “I’ll give you permission to touch, just this once.”

“Just for the record,” he whispered into her ear as he drew close, “this isn’t one of my fantasies or anything. I also think modeling is total bullshit that gives people a completely fake perception of what they should look like.”

She grabbed a fistful of his shirt as she revolved around him, peeking her eyes over his shoulder, her mouth murmuring against his shoulder blade. “Then why do you do it?”

He closed his eyes. “Because of my father. I don’t have a choice.”

“Is that true?”

His eyes fluttered open. She stood in front of him, softer than he expected. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“Time to change, Adrien,” the photographer stated.

They both jumped. He’d forgotten they were in the middle of a shoot. He darted away, finding the next ensemble to change into, trying not to overheat. It was more than just the lights pounding down on them, it was her.

She’d never affected him this way before. And he wasn’t stupid. There was no way she would ever be remotely interested in Adrien Agreste. It kind of upset him, though, how easily she could let her hands explore his body. She was always so adamant about consent, about people not being looked at like meat at the market, and yet she was using them both to, what, give him as Aphid some recognition that he hadn’t even asked for?

More than anything, he was upset with himself for being lured into her magnetism. Maybe it was the fact that he could be less on guard, not worried about saving Paris at the moment, not worried about the dynamics of their partnership and what anything more would mean for them. Either way, he couldn’t deny that she got his heart beating a little too irregularly, like she was batting it around like a ball of yarn.

He came back wearing a tux. The tie was a satin red, while the handkerchief was of course polka dotted. There were plenty of other formal wear options, but this had been his favorite.

“Here, Adrien. A mask, to match.”

Adrien looked down at the spotted duplicate of his own mask. If he wore it, would people speculate that he was Aphid? From what Tikki had told him, Lady Noir was the only one who really saw a glimpse of who he was through the magic and only because they were yin-yang pairs, whatever that meant.

Let’s just hope the magic of the Miraculous seriously does disguise our features from the public, Adrien thought to himself, putting it on.

Lady Noir was already standing on the new backdrop, a rooftop of Paris in the moonlight.

She appraised him. “Aren’t you handsome.”

“I get that a lot,” he said nervously, walking over to her.

Silence. They needed to move or they’d get a talking to.

“You’re on that dancing show,” Lady Noir stated, climbing onto a chimney that the photographer had wheeled out.

He was glad for the conversation. It made things less awkward as he pursued her, presenting a rose he’d been hiding behind his back. “Yeah. With Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Heard of her?”

Her hand hovered over it. “Only because of the show. She’s not exactly a famous dancer.”

“No, but she will be.”

Lady Noir smiled a knowing smile, which she hid behind her now accepted rose. “Ah. You’re very defensive of her, then?”

“She’s my partner,” he said, trying not to sound gruff as he helped her down. “So yes, I’ll be there for her and make sure everyone knows how amazing she is.”

“That’s very noble of you.” A clawed tipped finger came to his chin, tilting it. “You actually look quite a lot like Aphid.”

He tried not to flush. “I’m not a hero like him.”

She tossed the rose, wrapping her arms around his neck. “No, but you seem like a decent person.”

“I hope that’s true.” He hugged her, trying not to feel embarrassed. It was probably not romantic enough, but he didn’t care. It meant something, that Lady Noir would approve of him.

She pulled away enough to look him in the eye. “Perhaps other people should act more like it?”

He opened his mouth, not sure how to reply. Before she could say anything, she shied away, as if he’d said something flirtatious. The camera clicked.

Right. They were in a photoshoot.

“Are you used to models flouncing all over you, then?” she whispered.

“No. I refuse to model in this sort of way, actually.”

“Except with me.”

“It’s for a good cause.”

“I’m sure that’s what any man would say, getting to be this close to me.”

“You’re more than that to me.”

“Kiss,” the photographer said.

Their eyes met, both calculating before they jolted away.

“That was never part of the agreement,” Lady Noir said, taking a few steps to make her limit clear.

The photographer’s lips thinned. “Fine. Adrien, you still need to do a better job at portraying love. Are you listening?”

“Huh?” He’d been too busy staring at Lady Noir, who seemed busy ignoring him.

“You are Aphid!” The photographer yelled, making Adrien freeze. “You are her lover. Woo her! Show her what is in your heart!”

Oh. He meant act.

Adrien plastered on a smile, trying not to panic after the false alarm.

She remained distant. Adrien called out, “We’re taking five.” When the photographer protested, he said, “If you want us to keep modeling, you’re going to back off.”

Which was enough to get him to go to the farthest corner of the room, giving them some space.

“I’m sorry this is so awkward,” Adrien said.

“It’s condescending, not awkward.” She stepped away, but her body was more relaxed. “Though I must admit you’re not what I thought you’d be.”          

He shrugged.

“You never seem able to take a compliment.”

“Compliments aren’t exactly that sincere or deep in my industry.” He nodded to her. “I take it you don’t receive much love either.”

“Not as Lady Noir. Paris is anti-cat despite all the followers, ironically enough.”

“People better treat you with more respect in your personal life,” he said. “I guess I can’t ask what your non-secret identity love life is like to know if there’s anyone I need to beat up for you.”

“That would be amusing.”

“The offer still stands, even though I know you won’t use it.”

Lady Noir crossed her arms. “I know this isn’t exactly your type of modeling routine that you’re comfortable with, but I would really like to see you try. Minus the kissing, of course.”

“You want us both demeaned and judged solely on our bodies and fake chemistry?”

She remained unblinking. “Who says it’s fake?”

His mouth went dry. “Let me go change.”

Who says it’s fake? Adrien gritted his teeth. Who did she think she was to flirt with him as Adrien Agreste? Did she actually like Aphid or not? And why was it upsetting him so much to think she might not actually like him anyway?

Like always, it made her want to get back at her. Make her see there was more to him that met the eye.

It was the last part of the shoot. It was one of the few freedoms he had, getting to say no to certain clothes his father had laid out for him to model. There were certain lines he’d never crossed with his modeling. It was one thing to model bathing suits when he was younger, but since he’d hit puberty, he’d refused to be shirtless.

And yet here he was now, picking the boxer briefs. They were well fitted, black, with a red stripe with polka dots running up the sides. He’d never done an underwear ad before, but he was old enough now for it to be a decision that wouldn’t face any backlash.

For his own sanity, they were the longer pair that covered his entire thighs.

He’d thrown on one of the t-shirts for good measure.

Adrien left the changing area, trying not to fidget or look self-conscious. He’d decided the photographer didn’t exist to him. That he was going to get through this shoot with Lady Noir and Lady Noir alone.

When she saw him, Lady Noir whispered, “What are you doing?”

“It’s for a good cause. You said it yourself.”

He strode forward, picking up her hand, kissing her knuckles.

Her eyes widened, her hand twitching in his, but not leaving.

“If I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, tell me and I’ll stop,” he said, voice low.

She nodded, mute for once. He took her hand, placing it on his stomach. Smirking. Trying not to think about how stupid it was to look smug about his body.

Lady Noir tensed.

He let her hand fall. “Sorry.”

“No. It’s fine. It’s just…” Her head fell. “I hope I don’t make him uncomfortable. When I get too close to him.”

“Aphid?”

“Yes.”

He reached a tentative finger under her chin, taking it slow as he cupped her cheeks. “I know I’m not him, but I think he’d tell you if you really did make him uncomfortable.” He brushed his thumbs across her skin. “I’m sure he really appreciates you being there for him, doing all this to help him know he’s appreciated.”

She blinked a few times. He let his hands wander through her hair, down her back to her hips, pulling her close.

“Is this okay?” he whispered into her ear.

“Yes.” Her fingers skimmed up his inner arm, causing him to shiver.

“You’re an amazing super heroine,” he whispered to her, wanting her to be just as encouraged as he was. “You’re so brave, even when no one appreciates you.”

“It’s part of the job.”

“It’s not the job, it’s you.” He leaned down, lips brushing against her throat. “Is this okay?”

“Satisfactory,” she said stiffly, fidgeting in his arms.

He pulled away, unable to help the smile that came to his face at how flustered she looked. “Really, I can stop at any time.”

When she didn’t reply, he slowly started pulling the shirt over his head. He kept eye contact as long as possible, finding that her eyes had drifted down to his bare chest.

He couldn’t help but like seeing a positive reaction to his body—at least when it came to a girl whose opinion he actually cared about. Normally Marinette only had negative things to say, even if it was just about his arms not being straight. And at least he knew Lady Noir wasn’t into him. Or, rather, at least she wasn’t into Adrien Agreste.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, holding back a grin. “Cat got your tongue?”

She pouted, pressing her palm into his. “You look decent in red.”

He stepped closer again, keeping his breaths even, more into the theatrics of it all. He kissed the top of her head. Her forehead. Led her hand yet again to the planes of his chest, down slightly, but not too far. forcing his expression to remain professional.   

Her eyes were squeezed tight. Her hand fled up to his chest, startling him as it pressed over his heart.

Adrien’s face softened, his hand gentle against hers. “Most people are more interested in the rest of me.”

“They’re missing out on the best part of you, then.”

It was a bit over the top for her to state that after just meeting him, but he chalked it up to her preferring who someone was over looks. And maybe that was why shedding his clothes for her had been so easy.

Adrien took her hand in his. “And everyone misses out on you being you.”

She looked up at him, her face raw in ways he’d never seen. She hid her face again, standing with her back to him, her shoulders against his chest.

Her hair tickled his lips as he asked, “No kissing?”

Her breath hitched.

He let his lips linger near hers for the camera’s sake, listening to the clicks and their breathing.

After a long moment, he pulled away. “Don’t worry, Lady Noir. I wasn’t going to.”

She let out a very long exhale. “I know.”

“The photoshoot is over,” Adrien called out, putting his shirt back on. “Hopefully you got some good shots, because I won’t be doing that again and neither will Lady Noir, unless she chooses to.”

He turned back to her. It was the first time he’d felt some emotion other than doom and gloom since the fire, but he wasn’t sure if his last decision had hurt her.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“Sorry if I was going too far.”

“No. You kept asking if I was okay. It was…nice.”

Their eyes lingered a little longer than was necessary. “You seem more flustered than you pretend not to be.”

She grimaced. “I’m not used to close quarters with anyone but him.”

Adrien nodded. “That was a first for me too. I don’t want to pretend with people.”

“I hope that doesn’t cause the city to gossip about you.”

He shrugged. “There’s enough of that already. I’m used to it.”

“You sound like Aphid.”

“I sound like you,” he said without thinking. He flinched. That wasn’t something he should know. He backtracked. “What I meant was you give off this aura of not caring, when really I bet you do.” He hesitated, rubbing his neck. “I actually do the same thing.”

“Do you?”

“How else do you survive being famous?”

She looked away. “I do it for Aphid. To keep more attention on me so it’s one less thing he has to deal with.” Her shoulders fell. “He goes through enough as it is.”

His eyes widened. She did it for him? That’s why she’d started all the flirtations? To protect him from the bulk of the negativity?

Before he could say anything, she said, “I have to go. Thank you for not being as unbearable as I expected.”

She was gone before he could reply.

Chapter Text

“What the heck was that?” Marinette asked Plagg, gesturing to the special issue that had literally printed overnight. She didn’t even know magazines did that.

Plagg sniffed, not giving the image of shirtless Adrien pressing up against his holder a second glance. “He’s a model. He modeled. What did you expect?”

“He’s never done something so risqué before,” she argued. She’d know. After last night, she’d scoured Adrien Agreste fan sites to make sure he hadn’t been lying to her. Him modeling underwear was new. “And he was flirting with me.”

“He was acting, Marinette. That’s what models do. And who cares that he was in his underwear? He’s an adult by your weird human standards. Why are your whiskers in a knot?”

“It’s not like I want to control him, Plagg.”

“Unless he’s on the dance floor.”

She ignored the jab. “It’s just…he says one thing and does another.” She stared at his sultry expression, the one still digging into her. “I don’t know the real him.”

Every time she was around him, he was a different person depending on the setting. At school, he was quiet and in line, obedient to Chloe. At dance, he was a hard worker who kept insisting he wasn’t all that bad. And modeling with Lady Noir, he was…

She gritted her teeth. “How am I supposed to trust him if he’s always different in every situation?”

“You’re one to talk. Your night and day as Lady Noir and Marinette.”

“That’s not the same thing. I’m hiding my secret identity.”

Plagg hovered in front of her face, lounging as if floating down a river. “Super hero or not, people have things to hide.”

Like if he’s sleeping with Chloe or not.

She’d been so close to asking him how far his relationship with Chloe had gone before the birthday party, but had decided it was none of her business. And then she’d had the purr-fect opportunity as Lady Noir to talk about it, but no. She’d done the right thing and held back asking.

She was regretting it now. For some reason, it really mattered to her if he was actually close to Chloe.

She let out an exasperated breath, shaking the cooties off. Her phone pinged with an alarm.

Plagg groaned. “Why does your schedule have to be so full?”

“Go pick another holder if it bothers you so much.” She started packing her bag. “After Aphid Day it won’t be so bad. And you know I’ve been cancelling some of our dance sessions.”

He landed on her shoulder. “It must be eating you alive not to practice.”

She bit her lip. “Next week will go back to normal. And Adrien has seemed…” Out of it. Worn down. Hot. Marinette pretended she hadn’t thought the last one. “Like he needed a break.”

“Anyone would need a break from you.”

She kissed his tiny head. “I love you too.”

Plagg shuddered. “You really need to forgive him for missing the party.”

“That’s the thing. He could have just turned around and come back to the party without a present. No one was going to think badly of him.”

“He said he got stuck there. You’ve been to a fire before. You know how it is.”

She wasn’t so sure. Something seemed off about it. And yet Adrien, despite everything he’d done, always made her want to forgive him and believe the best in him.

Marinette just wasn’t ready for that sort of live and let live.

“And Aphid better appreciate what you’re doing for him with this holiday,” Plagg muttered. “It’s seriously messing with my sleep schedule.”

“Yeah. You poor thing, sleeping all night while I stay up to email city officials.”

“Your typing keeps me up.” Plagg fell onto a pillow. “Aphid doesn’t deserve you.”

“He’s going through something,” Marinette murmured. She just wished Aphid would actually tell her what it is that made him look like Plagg had cataclysmed him. “This is what I’ll do for him in the time being. Until he’s ready.” She gestured to her dance bag. “Now stop complaining and hide so we can get started with the day. And yes, I packed your cheese.”

Plagg’s eyes slitted, content and cat-like as he floated into her bag, inhaling the stink like it was heaven.

She shook her head, pinching her nose and holding her breath as she zipped it up.

                                                                              /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Marinette didn’t know how to be around Adrien after modeling with him. Not to mention she was exhausted from setting up Aphid Day all week.

She’d cancelled every single dance lesson for it. He probably thought it was because he’d missed the party, but it was because she’d been busy. Still, she wasn’t really sure if she should pretend everything was fine and the party hadn’t happened or if they needed to talk in circles about it. Nothing he could say was going to change how she felt and she was too tired to deal with it.

Besides, the thing on her mind wasn’t her dance persona’s relationship with him.

Adrien walked in earlier than expected. “Hey.”

She was sitting in a straddle on the ground, stretching and trying to analyze him without his notice. He still walked with a bit of a slump, less motivation in his steps. His movements last night, on the other hand—

Marinette cut the thought off, continuing her stretches. “Have you been resting in your free time?”

“Not exactly.”

She tried not to get angry. “Why not?”

“I had a late night photo session last night. You know, the one you arranged.”

“Oh.”

“You forgot?”

Of course she hadn’t, but she couldn’t exactly tell him that. “I guess it slipped my mind, with all the other preparations I’ve been doing for Aphid Day.”

His feet neared, directly in front of her face, which she was attempting to plaster to the floor to avoid him. “So that means you didn’t see the photos?”

If she admitted to seeing the photos, it’d be clear she’d lied to him, so she changed the topic. “What was Lady Noir like?”

He sat down in a straddle opposite of her, taking a moment to answer. “She’s…hard to figure out.”

She cleared her throat, rising from her stretch. “Was she all over you?”

His eyes steeled. “She’s not like that.”

It was the second time in twenty-four hours that he’d defended her. “It sure looked like it was like that.”

“Which means you did know about the photoshoot and have seen the pictures.”

You pulled her knees up to her chest, wanting to hide behind them. “Okay, maybe.”

He stared. They stayed on the floor in silence. She couldn’t move.

“Are you jealous?”

She reeled back. “Of course not.” It was laughable, really, to be jealous of herself. “I’m not interested in you.”

He frowned. She returned the gesture. Why should she be interested in him?

And yet she couldn’t exactly look at him without thinking of him shirtless now. Not to mention her cheeks were on fire.

She decided to change the subject. “Thank you for not treating her like eye candy.”

“You weren’t exactly there to see if that was true or not.”

Oops. “No, but you’re professional with me and I trust you to be professional with other people. So thanks.”

“It’s not exactly for you, but you’re welcome.” He took a breath. “Thanks for not doing that to me either.”

She couldn’t think of worse timing to mention that. “Let’s stretch and then get started.”

They went through the motions together. Stretching. Warming up. Her head wasn’t in it and she could tell Adrien’s thoughts were elsewhere.

When they took a break, she asked, “You haven’t talked to Chloe about her?”

“About who?”

“Lady Noir.”

Adrien snorted. “All Chloe wants to hear is that she’s way hotter than her.”

Marinette grabbed her water. “I’m sure she’s thrilled with the photos.”

Adrien hesitated.

“Don’t tell me she hasn’t called you in a rage yet.”

“I may have silenced my phone.”

“I bet you blocked her.”

Adrien smiled. She couldn’t help but return it.

“Did you need help with Hero Day stuff?” he asked.

She met his eyes. Maybe he really was nice. He had been nice to her as Lady Noir. He’d stuck up for her. They’d even had some sort of chemistry that was completely unexplainable. Maybe everything else really could be water under the bridge—

“ADRIKENS!”

They jumped, looking up to find Chloe at the door. This time, she flung it open, knocked meticulously three times, and then stormed in, phone in hand. Such a wild transformation since last time. “I have been trying to call you for three hours!”

“What?” Adrien said, sounding completely surprised. “That’s insane. I haven’t gotten anything from you.”

Chloe seethed. “That doesn’t make any sense.” Her eyes darted to Marinette. “Unless she stole your phone!”

Adrien retorted. “Marinette wouldn’t—”

“Yes, it was me. When Adrien isn’t looking during practice, I block your number temporarily,” she deadpanned.

Adrien shot her a look. Marinette shrugged.

“I knew it was the baker girl! Honestly, Adrikens, how you put up with her—”

He locked his jaw. “Do we really need to talk about this again?”

Chloe’s eye twitched.

“Afterwards we can go hang out,” Adrien said.

“And then you’re going to explain why that stupid cat was all over you?”

“Of course. I’m not even a cat person.”

“Good. Mangy, useless things.” Chloe slammed the door open, disappearing just as quickly as she’d come.

“You didn’t have to lie for me,” Adrien said.

“She hates me either way.” Marinette shrugged. “I might as well keep you from getting in trouble.”

They went back to working on his technique on a few moves that he was still struggling with. It’s not like Marinette had even started on a routine for them yet, something that should be skyrocketing her anxiety, but her mind was elsewhere.

“You looked really flirty with her,” Marinette said, unable to help herself.

Adrien reeled back like she’d punched him. “With Chloe?”

“No.” Stupid. “With Lady Noir.”

“Oh.” He blinked. “My photographer asked me to match her energy.”

He had. She’d been there for that.

“I just wasn’t expecting her to flirt with me,” he said, as if to himself. “I thought she was just like that with Aphid.”

Marinette blew out an annoyed breath. “She can flirt with whoever she wants. She’s not owned by anyone.”

“She said that she was only flirty to protect him.”

Her neck grew hot. “That doesn’t really make any sense.”

He shook his head. “It does. And it’s really nice of her.” His voice quieted. “He’s so, so lucky to have her.”

Aphid never said that himself, which was pretty ironic given all the luck he supposedly had. “Yeah. They have a great partnership.”

Unequal. Secretive. Ungrateful…!

She shook off her growing anger, going over to her bag and pulling out her phone as she sat. “Actually…I found the song I’d like to use. Will you listen to this with me?”

“Yeah.” Adrien sat down next to her, taking one of the ear buds she offered. “Sorry about not finding any myself. I know I said I would.”

“It’s okay.”

It was too difficult to give him power over the song anyway. It was probably selfish of her, but considering she was Lady Noir, it didn’t make sense for him to pick a song for this round—not that Adrien knew that.

She held the screen up for him to read the song name. Ceilings by Lizzy McAlpine. A song she’d been listening to on repeat ever since she’d first heard it.

If he recognized the song, he didn’t say so. She pressed play, every nerve naked and ready to be shot down by him. He listened silently; his brow furrowed as he concentrated.

Marinette couldn’t help but wish she were on her rooftop with Aphid, listening to this song. Confessing how she felt. How hard it was to be around him sometimes. How much she wanted to hold his hand, which was always so close to her own. She wanted to hug her body to his and thank him for always protecting her, for believing in her. For making her feel safe when no one else did.

When the song ended, she realized her hand was in Adrien’s. Not on top of, no. Her fingers had moved on their own accord, entwining themselves to his like vines searching for sunlight. And he was staring at her, his body frozen.

“Sorry,” she muttered, removing her hand. “I was thinking of potential choreography and it just happened.” To avoid hearing anything he had to say about it, she asked, “What did you think?”

He shifted his weight, ending up an inch farther away from her. “I’m not shooting this down. It’s not like I should even have much say in anything we do here, since you’re the expert, but…I thought we’d agreed not to do a romantic song?”

“I know.” She dug her fingernails into her palm. “But…this is her.”

“Her?”

“Lady Noir. And if she really does love Aphid,” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. “This is her story. Loving someone and losing them.” Her voice lowered. “Of finding out you never had them at all.”

“It’s a beautiful song.” He cleared his throat. “She deserves better.”

She held back a sniff, pulling her knees up to her chest.

“Are you sure you can handle this song?” Adrien whispered.

“I’m Aphid in this song,” she said, pretending to be strong. “You’re the one who would have to be devotedly in love with me.”

She was too numb to feel awkward about her words. It’s not like she actually wanted Adrien’s attention. It was just acting.

“You’d be able to create some amazing choreography to this.” He started replaying the song. “If you were looking for my approval, you’ve got it. I…should have been more thoughtful to her feelings when listening to it.”    

Marinette rested her head on his side, unable to help herself.

An arm came around her shoulders. He didn’t pull her closer, but it was comforting, to know he was there, ready to embrace her if she needed it.

She needed it so badly. Could she really be vulnerable with him? Could she trust him with her brokenness? 

“Let’s listen to it a few more times,” she murmured. “So I can think about our routine.”

“I’d like that.”

She couldn’t help but peek up at him, a bit unnerved by his presence. Sometimes, he really did remind her of Aphid.

But they were totally different.

It’s just the song getting to you, she thought. 

Marinette readjusted against him, trying to get over the awkwardness of the closeness. Hoping he didn’t feel one of her tears leak onto his shirt as she pressed her face into his arm.

Chapter Text

Aphid Day was finally happening. Marinette was a fit of nerves. She hadn’t been sleeping, not that she could have slept after hoping people would actually show up. What if they didn’t? Or what if there were only protestors? What if Hawk Moth himself crashed the party because he couldn’t let Aphid have one freaking day of peace—

A loud snore from Plagg jolted her away from the cusp of an anxiety attack. She shook her purse, trying to wake him up. The crowd around them was pretty loud, but she didn’t want to take the chance of it going quiet and everyone around her wondering what was sawing logs in her bag.

The mayor and all the city officials had taken over Aphid Day as of last night, which gave her a break from making sure the entire city function went smoothly. Instead, she was supposed to enjoy it like every other civilian.

Marinette was close to breaking down in tears. She still hadn’t heard from Aphid since that night he’d snapped at her about the fire. She’d researched it, trying to find out if something else had happened, but all she’d found was that everyone in the entire building had been saved. The worst that had happened was a hospitalization. The man had lost his memories, leading to his picture being on the news with people trying to figure out if he had any family members to claim him, but she didn’t know how that could make Aphid so distraught.

Whatever it was must be a personal issue he couldn’t talk about, not that he was even returning any of her dozens of messages she’d sent through her baton. Heck, he hadn’t even transformed the whole week. She would have felt it. And it was a low blow given she knew that he knew when she was transformed and still wouldn’t even bother to reply.

Stupid Lady Cow.

Marinette sighed, ignoring all the posters of Aphid, the red polka dotted macarons, the cute Chibi dolls people were selling of him.

Despite being everywhere, he was nowhere to be found.

She didn’t expect him to show up wearing his suit. She knew whatever was going on, he wouldn’t want the attention directed at him. But she did wish he was at least here, knowing how much she supported and loved him.

“Baker girl.”

Marinette looked up from the ground to find Chloe in front of her. “What are you doing here? I thought you didn’t like Aphid.”

“My dad is the mayor, duh.” She squinted, looking around. “Besides, if Aphid did show up, I wouldn’t mind changing my opinion of him.”

“I’m sure he saw that interview where you said he wasn’t all that attractive.”

“So?”

Marinette tensed. “Why are you even dating Adrien anyway?”

She brushed her ponytail away dramatically. “Why, are you jealous?”

Marinette had to pause for a second to make sure her answer was actually true. “No.” She wanted to ask if Adrien seriously did sleep at her place, but decided to go with an actually sincere question. “What’s your favorite thing about him?”

Chloe scoffed. “His looks, of course.”

“You don’t think he’s really nice or generous or kind or…you know, has any traits other than looks?”

“He’s rich too.”

Quel bordel. Marinette composed herself. “He’s more than that, Chloe. And if you can’t see that, then maybe you should try to get to know him better at the very least. He deserves someone who really sees him and loves him for more than just what’s on the surface and in his bank account.”

She walked away without another word, not wanting to get into another fight.

Despite being upset at Aphid, she really did wish she was here with him. It pained her to know that he might be right next to her and she’d have no idea. It hurt worse, knowing he wouldn’t know who she was.

She adjusted her scarf, hiding in it, lost in the oblivious crowd, hating that she was just as blind as they were.

                                                                           /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Adrien walked through the park, baffled that thousands of people were here to celebrate him. And it wasn’t like some super model thing where people showed up to worship him for his looks. It was people who actually looked up to him and wanted to say thanks.

There was a giant wall dedicated to writing thank you’s to him, explaining how he’d impacted their lives. Donations were being taken to go into the charity of Aphid’s choice, which he’d have to do research on later to make sure he chose something worthy. A statue of him was being unveiled later in the day while an art exhibit of him and Lady Noir was being presented right now over at the museum.

Everyone was wearing red with black polka dots, a lot of it from his father’s clothing line. People were playing games themed around him, eating food shaped like ladybugs, and having a great time looking at passersby, speculating if Aphid was among them.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he recognized a little girl at the edge of the crowd. She was the girl he’d saved on the very first day.

He knew her name since she’d been on television—Alice. She was standing by the fence, holding a crotchet Aphid doll. People had been placing flowers and a plethora of sweets and ladybug themed things along the fence. It felt a bit silly, like he’d died, but he appreciated it all the same.

Besides, he had felt like a ghost this past week. Maybe it was suitable.

Adrien watched from afar as Alice rearranged some of the display, placing an Aphid doll on top of a music box. She stepped back, satisfied.

He walked up, unable to help himself. “Are you a big fan?”

"He saved my life," she said simply.

“That must have been scary.”

Her mouth squirmed as she thought. “It was, but after that, I haven’t really been scared. I want to be like him.”

Adrien shifted. “I’m sure he gets scared all the time.”

“Maybe, but he’s always a hero anyway.”

He didn’t feel deserving of the title. He nodded towards her doll. “That’s nice of you to leave that for him.”

“I make them. My mom sells them online and I give the money to help kids that are sick.” She looked up at him, blinking. "Are you crying?"

"He'd be very proud of you, Alice."

She leaned away. "I didn't tell you my name."

"I remember you from the news.” He took a step back, hoping to make her more comfortable. “You're famous."

She grimaced. "Not as famous as him."

"The fame doesn't matter. What you're doing to be a hero does."

Alice clutched the other crochet Aphid she had with her, skeptical.

He bent down, taking out some money. “Can I buy one so you can donate this?”

She nodded, making the exchange.

Adrien couldn’t help but take in the fact that the baby teeth that had once been missing during her smile the first time he’d met her were now filled. That she had grown up. That the world was a better place because she existed.

“Thank you,” he said, standing up.

“Happy Aphid Day!” she called after him.

He took a shaky breath, looking at the Aphid doll smiling up at him.

                                                                              /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Adrien took his time people watching, little pieces of him restored as he heard from several people passing by that they wouldn’t be here today without Aphid. He recognized some of them. It was a crazy thing, to think he’d been able to have such a large impact on the city. Usually he didn’t think about it. He just wanted to get through the day, do his job, and hopefully get some sleep.

Now, he was starting to see the bigger picture.

From his bench, he saw Marinette, who was walking by herself.

He stood up, rushing after her. “Marinette.”

He hadn’t been planning on seeing her today. He thought she’d be super busy handling all the fires, not walking around leisurely enjoying herself.

She stuffed her hands in her pockets. “Hi.”

Adrien gestured to the event around them. “I thought you’d be leading the whole thing?”

“I think they were scared I’d bring a whip, so they had me be an ordinary civilian. I don’t know if it suits me.”

It was a chillier day. She was wearing a cute red trench coat, black boots and pants, and a ladybug was pinned in her hair. Around her neck was a nice warm scarf, her hands bundled up in mittens.

He’d seen her in plenty of different clothes from leggings filled with holes to full tutu attire, but it was a bit different today, seeing her sport his colors and looking so put together.

“I see you bought a doll.”

His voice finally started working. “Yeah, there’s this girl who runs a charity by selling these.” He had to force himself not to get emotional again. “I had to support her.”

“Aphid brings out the best in people.”

His cheeks smarted.

“The mayor’s speech is about to start. Want to come with me to listen?”

“Sure.”

“Here.” She grabbed his hand so they wouldn’t get separated. It was different than their dancing touch, somehow warmer as she kept hold of him through the crowd.       

They were forced to stand close together near the front of the stage.

“Was there something special about his speech?” Adrien asked.

Marinette shrugged. “It’s more me being curious as to what the mayor’s stance is on everything. Yes, he approved of this happening, but I just want to see what heartfelt words he could offer.”

A ruckus happened behind the stage, causing everyone in the audience to quiet down. Chloe appeared behind the podium. He tensed, wanting to hide.

“Thank you all for being here today. I’m Chloe Bourgeois and I am super thankful to our heroes of Paris, wherever they are,” she claimed. “I would like for the girl responsible for this entire event to come up here and give us a few words on heroics—Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” 

Marinette froze next to him as the crowd applauded. She hadn’t said anything about being part of the speeches. From the look of Chloe’s malicious face, she’d set her up. It was a weird flex, as if Chloe expected her to completely choke on stage. The Marinette he knew wasn’t much for stumbling over her feet or her words, but Chloe must have been taking a gamble that she would. 

“You’ve got this,” he murmured into her ear. “Don’t worry about the crowd. Just focus on me.” 

She gulped and made her way through the first few rows of bodies, her own body stiff as she muttered apologies as she bumped into people. 

He touched his earrings, hidden from view by his beanie. He could come swooping in to save her from having to make a speech, but he didn’t want to act as if Marinette was a damsel in distress. She could handle herself. 

Besides, he’d told her he’d be standing right here for her to look at for support. He didn’t want to ghost her. 

Adrien locked his jaw and settled his feet into place as Marinette climbed up to the podium, breathing heavier than if she’d just done a routine. 

“Thank you all for working so hard on Heroes Day,” she began. “You have all put in a tremendous effort to make sure our heroes are appreciated.” Marinette gripped the podium. “I don’t want to make light of the fact that all of us can be every day heroes. We have people who risk their lives and do such good work for the citizens of Paris every day, whether that’s serving as first responders, taking care of children, helping the homeless, or even offering a smile to a stranger. Every act of kindness adds up into a tidal wave of love that even Hawk Moth couldn’t conquer.” 

The audience clapped, a few of them roaring their agreement. 

Marinette continued, “But this is a day that I wanted to use in honor of the two people who do the most for our city—Aphid and Lady Noir. 

“There have been dozens of akuma attacks these past few months. Every single time, they have been able to purify the victim and restore Paris to the beautiful city that it is, allowing us to sleep peacefully at night knowing that they are watching over us. But how much sleep are our heroes losing, how much time are they spending bleeding for us that has gone unnoticed? 

“I think we’ve all had days where we haven’t wanted to get out of bed because life has been too much. Emotions are too much. Work is too much. School is too much. Sometimes, we feel all alone, like the world is against us. Like no one loves us or has any reason to.”

She looked down, as if she hadn’t meant to say that. “Just imagine what it must be like to, on top of living your own life, protecting this city without any thanks and with so much suspicion. I’m sure, even now, a lot of you are wondering where they are, thinking that they should be here, visible, to accept the day that we’ve given them. But why can’t they have a day to themselves? Why can’t you see that maybe they are here, somewhere in the crowd, gracious enough to accept our thanks humbly? Because I highly doubt Aphid is one to expect this sort of fanfare even though he’s the one who deserves it the most.” 

Adrien shifted, his ears heating.  

“It’s one thing to be heroic when you feel like it, or once in a blue moon, or when you are rewarded for your good deeds, but our supers have mostly been scorned. I’m sure they’ve missed out on a lot of things because instead of being with their family and friends, they’re busy saving us and making sure we’re safe so that we can continue to live our lives. I’m sure it wears on them, that they have to make up excuses for missing things because they found someone’s life being saved more important. They make that sacrifice.” 

Her eyes found him, determined and strong. “And to Aphid in particular I want to say thank you. You seem like such a serious person all the time because you want to put us first. Thank you for being a hero even when it’s hard. Thank you for always doing the right thing.” 

As the applause rang out, his heart slung off the weighty chains of responsibility. His eyes didn’t leave her as she blushed from the approval of the crowd, as she passed Chloe with her chin held high, as she made her way back down the stairs until she was right in front of him, beaming in a shy way he wasn’t used to. 

“How was that?” she asked. 

He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to show her exactly what it meant to him, the night to day catalyst she had started. How thankful he was that she understood. That she saw him.

Adrien could barely speak. “Aphid would have loved it.” 

“You think so?” 

The hope in her voice was vulnerable, something he wasn’t used to hearing from her.  

“Anything else you’d want to tell him?” he asked, unable to help himself.  

“That he doesn’t have to bear the burden alone.” Her face softened. “Not that he’d listen to me.” 

He thought of the Miracle Box. “I’m sure that’d be hard for him to do.” 

“I know. I just want him to have some hope. Something to make the job worth it.” 

She bundled her mitted hands in her pockets, letting her face caress the scarf wrapped around her neck that was starting to loosen.  

He reached out, readjusting it, his thumb whispering against her cheek. “He does.” 

                                                                                /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

For the first time since their fight, Lady Noir felt Aphid transform.

Lady Noir couldn’t help but be irritated. Her anger had been building ever since the day he’d left her high and dry.

She wanted to hear him out. Maybe he’d get on his knees and apologize. Tell her how amazing she’d been to him over the months of their partnership, how he’d never survive without her. Kiss her until the sun came up.

Or at least maybe he’d bring her a smoothie.

They met at their usual place. He’d shown up first, though clearly empty handed, his green eyes an ocean of broken sea glass.

“I see you don’t come bearing gifts,” she greeted him, holding back her disappointment.

He didn’t look at her. “I’m sorry for not being around.”

“I’ve been worried about you.” She didn’t like admitting it. Not without a joke or something other than a vulnerable voice.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been really overwhelmed.”

He didn’t explain farther than that.

“I’m your partner, Aphid. I know you don’t owe me a life explanation, but we have to be in this together.”

“I know.”

“Did Aphid Day help?” she asked.

He didn’t say anything.

“Did you go?”

He looked at her suspiciously. “What does it matter if I went or not?”

Because I did it for you. I made the whole thing for you. She just stared at him instead.

He sighed. “Yes, I went. It was…nice.”

She was hoping for more than just a throwaway word. But he still looked so tired.

“That Marinette girl did a really good job,” he admitted.

She stirred, surprised he knew her name. “Marinette?”

“Yeah. The girl who organized the whole thing in like a week. That’s what the mayor said, at least.”

“Oh.”

“She gave a really good speech too.”

He’d been in the crowd. He’d seen her, without her mask. She took a deep breath, trying to get control of her emotions, which were starting to skitter like hyperactive kittens all over the place.

“I don’t even know why she did it,” he said, almost to himself. “It’s not like we’ve met before. As many people as we’ve saved, she’s not one of them.”

Her hands came behind her back, clasped together. “Maybe she’s attracted to you.”

He let out a short, dead laugh. “Yeah, right.”

Her shoulders tightened. “What’s so hard to believe about that? She could be a girl with your screensaver on her phone who doesn’t think of you as some fantasy and instead sees you as an actual person.” She pointed a clawed finger at him. “And she did arrange that whole thing for you, didn’t she?”

“Yes, but—”

“So clearly she has some sort of reason for spending so much effort on you besides the fact that you’re stupidly handsome and downright ridiculous!”

Aphid blinked, finally looking at her for the first time. “Are you okay?”

She must have been a foot taller than normal, as angry as she was, stretching as large as she could make herself. She forced her body to relax, flashing a sheepish smile. “Peachy.”

“Why do you flirt with the Parisians?”

It was the last thing she was expecting him to ask. If only he’d read the room.

“Because that’s all I am, Aphid.” She ran a hand up his stomach to his chest before taking it off, showing she was innocent. “A laughing stock of a flirt who isn’t to be taken seriously.” It took effort not to bare her teeth at him or break down into tears. “Let’s patrol.”

She took off without waiting for an answer, with each leap the knife of his obliviousness and secrecy twisting deeper into her heart.

He didn’t say another word about it. In fact, he didn’t say another word to her at all.

Chapter Text

Marinette shoved a piece of paper into Adrien’s hand the next morning, making sure to mask her expression. Not that it was very difficult, given all the practice she’d had when it came to distancing herself from Aphid lately.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“That’s your new school schedule.”

His eyebrows crinkled. “Since when do they let students come for only core classes?”

“Since two of them are in France’s most watched show and got signed off by the producers to do so.” She shrugged. “I’m going down to half a day too.”

He looked up. “There’s no way my father approved of this.”

“I had the studio call him and he wasn’t at all happy about it, but they made sure we’d do some more photoshoots and the like to appease him.”

“You agreed to do photoshoots?”

“Yes.” She tucked her own new schedule into her bag. “You’ve been really stressed out and have too much going on. If this is going to help your dancing…”

She didn’t look at him. She didn’t want him to find out that she actually cared.

It’d been nice, seeing him in the crowd while she gave her impromptu speech, his face showing absolute confidence that she was going to wow everyone. It’d given her the courage she’d needed to get through it. He’d actually shown up to Aphid Day and had told her she’d done a good job, Aphid plush in hand, which had been the highlight of her day. Well, if she was being honest with herself, it was really him fixing the loose strands of hair, but she kept shoving that thought into her banned Adrien thought compartment, which included her whole photoshoot with Lady Noir.

She mentally shook herself. The fact was, Adrien had offered to help with Aphid Day, which was the opposite of Aphid’s indifferent brush off of the whole event that had been centered around him. And he was still keeping secrets.

And yeah, Adrien gave stupid excuses and was still dating Chloe, but at least he was standing right in front of her. Neither boy in her life seemed all that great, now that she thought about it.

Either way, she was tired of Adrien being stretched thin and she was tired of having so much to do all the time. She wanted to sleep a normal schedule and have time to dance, go to school, do homework, and maybe do a social thing every once and a while. Or, gasp, sit down and do absolutely nothing. Yes, she was notoriously bad for not knowing how to be a couch potato, but she thought it was a skill worth learning.

He softened. “Thanks, Marinette.”

She waved a hand indifferently. “Just actually come to dance ready for once, with actual energy.”

“I’ll try.”

                                                                              /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Their new schedule did help give a bit of breathing room with more downtime. Marinette suspected that Adrien’s father didn’t really know about the change and maybe his other guardian, Nathalie, had made the decision for him, making sure he had some more time to himself. Either way, he showed up more refreshed than before.

Adrien and Marinette’s relationship was in a weird place where she wasn’t being very mean to him, but she also wasn’t talking to him much either. He was quiet and not really fighting their lack of a friendship, as if he figured he’d done too much wrong by her to ever earn forgiveness.

Or maybe he was just exhausted and it had nothing to do with her at all.

As for her other working relationship, she’d decided that Aphid Day had been a total failure. Yes, Aphid was back to “work” and functioning, but he was still detached from her. He was hiding things. And then there was the fact that for some reason, the idea of Marinette being attracted to him was like some sort of terrible joke? Why wouldn’t every girl in the whole city like him? Why couldn’t he just see that she, Lady Noir, loved him?

She flaunted it as much as she could and couldn’t ever get a reaction out of him besides boredom or exasperation. She was absolutely done and had been toning it back for weeks. She was still lighthearted, but it was different than before.

Not to mention she’d gotten laxer when it came to akumas. It was hard not to, when catastrophes were now an everyday nuisance they had to deal with. She was desensitized, for better or worse.

It's not like Marinette wanted people running around as rubber chickens or in a state of constant panic, but it wasn't her fault that Hawk Moth was a psychotic villain content with emotionally manipulating the citizens of Paris just so he could have a wish that would literally destroy the universe and rebuild it.

No thank you.

So she'd grown pretty calm during their battles. She tried her best to transform and get there as soon as possible, but at the same time it was really hard to have as much motivation when Hawk Moth needed both of their Miraculous to make the wish, meaning he couldn't exactly go too hardcore on Paris if one of them wasn't showing up. 

Her main concern was protecting Aphid. If anything happened to him, Paris was doomed, but it was hard to worry about Aphid when he was absolutely flawless. Yes, they'd had their backs in a pinch quite a few times, but it always worked out in the end.

She just hadn't been expecting things to get any more complicated than they already were.

Marinette had been browsing a bookstore for some dance inspiration, trying to ignore all the magazines of Adrien smoldering Lady Noir that were for some reason in every single aisle, regardless of genre, when she heard crying in the stack next to her. 

Ever since Hawk Moth had started akumatizing people, crying was like a sneeze during a pandemic. Most everyone in the area darted away as quickly as possible, terrified they'd be in the direct line of fire if whoever dared have an emotion became a super villain.

It was always up in the air for what Marinette should do when she heard crying, considering she was one of the only people who could stop them if they were akumatized, but she also wondered if going over and talking to them could prevent it. 

She peeked around the stack, finding a woman clutching a children's book. From the angle, she couldn't tell what book it was. All she knew was there wasn't a child in sight and she wasn't wearing a wedding ring—not that not wearing one really meant anything. 

Before she could decide to approach her or not, an akuma had flown into something inside her jacket.

Marinette hid in the shadows of an alcove, transforming as quietly as possible as she heard the lady yell, "I am Mother Goose and I will go home!"

Mother Goose, bless her name and pantaloons, left the store, beginning to point her shepherds crook at people, transforming them into all sorts of fairytale or nursery rhyme objects or creatures.

Lady Noir paused long enough to see the book she had been clutching was about space, which didn't really help her out when it came to motive. She exited the store in time to see Mother Goose floating with a pair of balloons, shrieking, "It's not enough!"

Lady Noir stepped into the line of fire, hoping to give the Parisians some time to run. "Hey! Little Bo Peep, did you lose your sheep and don’t know where to find them?"

"Leave me alone, Lady Noir." 

Lady Noir dodged a few bolts, but one hit a group of civilians, turning them all into geese.

Mother Goose summoned strings, instantly trying to catch the birds. 

A blur of scarlet rushed by. Aphid’s yo-yo snatched at the strings and whisked them away from Mother Goose.

"No!" She shook. "I need those birds!" 

"What a surprise." Lady Noir batted the flock of giant geese out of the way, trying to get them to escape, which was no use as Mother Goose flew after them, away from the super heroes, turning anyone else into frogs, cows, and an unfortunate Humpty Dumpty.

Aphid landed next to her.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here," Lady Noir said, trying to get back to her teasing self.

He crossed his arms. "Because I'm the one who's notorious for being late?"

"You're always Cinderella."

"I think that's you." He stumbled back as a parade of rats scurried towards them, following the tune of a piper from some distance away. "I saw your Prince Charming on the way here." He raised a brow. “A silver spoon for a cat in the cradle.”

She scoffed. "My Prince Charming is right in front of me, actually."

It was the first time she’d said something regarding her feelings in a long time.

"Just a typical day in Paris," he muttered, ignoring her. "Do you know what's going on?"

 Of course he wouldn’t give her the time of day.

"This lady, Mother Goose, has whatever the akuma is in her pocket and really wants to go home?" Lady Noir shrugged. "I don't know where home is though if she's trying to enslave birds on strings to get her there. I was thinking the moon or something since that's a nursery rhyme, but I hope not because Plagg would probably join her to go find out if it’s made of cheese."

"Let's not let him. I need you."

Her heart picked up, but she squashed it down. How about you try a different kind of charm to get us out of this mess? she thought to herself.

As if he could read her thoughts, he summoned his Lucky Charm. A copy of Le Petit Prince dropped into his hands.

She extended her baton, resting her chin on it as she leaned over. "I love that book."

He ran his fingers over it, as if it were sacred. It practically was in France, but it was more than she was expecting from Aphid.

"She was in a bookstore when she was akumatized," Lady Noir filled in. "Do you think the answer lies there?"

But she was already piecing it together, at least a bit. In The Little Prince, the prince flew away from his asteroid using a flock of birds that he holds like kites.  

His hands gripped the book tight. "...Lady Noir?"

"Yes?"

"I think we have to play out the story of this book," he said. "He’s stuck in the desert and the snake bites him in the end so that he can go home."

"The kid dies, Aphid."

He grimaced. "Depends on your point of view."

Poison was poison, no matter what anyone told her, but she wasn’t going to argue with him. "What are you getting at?”

Aphid's yo-yo lit up. He stuck his hand through the screen, reaching inside to pull out a box identical to the one Plagg had arrived in.

"What the heck is that?"

"It's the Miraculous of the Snake." He held it out to her. "I need you to use his power of Second Chance, in case this goes badly."

She stared at him. "Since when do other Miraculous exist?"

"I recently became the Guardian of the Miraculous, actually." He didn't look at her. "Besides Hawk Moth, we're the only ones that have any. I have the rest."

"I don't even know what that means. A guardian? Was there, like, an application online that you filled out and you got interviewed for this?"

"There isn't time for games." He extended the box so it was even closer to her. 

But she still had plenty to say. To appease him, Lady Noir took the box, opening it to find a bracelet. A kwami floated out of it, calling himself Sass. "What happened to needing Lady Noir?"

"I still need you, I just need you to have an extra skill."

She snorted. "I can't have two different powers at the same time."

"Actually..." He winced and pulled out another Miraculous, one that looked like a bee. He put the hairclip in and said, "Pollen, Tikki, unify."

His suit was now lined with gold, which really highlighted the angelic glow of his blond hair. 

Why the heck did he always have to look so good? And worse, now he was keeping secrets from her? Was this why he’d been so distant lately?

Her eyes narrowed. "Aphid—"

"I know. I should have been telling you all this, but the original Guardian told me to keep it a secret. If Hawk Moth finds out I have all the Miraculous..."

He'd have a field day trying to get them all. "Fine, but I'm your partner. If you seriously can't do this without me, I expect an explanation later. Even if it's a bowl of water instead of milk."

"You deserve more than that," he said. "But for now, can you transform?"

She did, her suit now sporting gold and aqua intermixed with the black, the texture scaley. It was way more intricately patterned than her normal plain black without being too overdone. 

He actually stared.

It made her self-conscious. "What?"

"Nothing." He explained that Sass granted her the ability to go back in time two minutes, as well as his new power, Venom, which could immobilize whatever he touched. "I think the ending of the book wanted these two Miraculous to be used."

"It has nothing to do with bees."

"I know, but this is her sting of death. And you're the snake." He pointed to one of his earrings. "That's how my power works. It goes by my own logic."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll reverse time and I'll figure out a solution, as many times as it takes."

His face stayed as serious as ever. "And if I get hit..."

"Don't look at you in case you turn into some pompous, maskless prince. Duh. I'll go back immediately."

He ran his eyes over her once again, biting his lip.

"It'll be fine, Aphid. We've done this a hundred times. Your Miraculous item told you that this is the best solution."

Though she did wonder why he looked so unsure. Now that she knew he was keeping stuff from her, was there something else she needed to know? "Or do you not trust me?"

"No, I do. You're right. We can do this."

She used Second Chance and they followed the noise to their opponent, who was busy turning people into the three little pigs.

"I need more birds!" the lady screamed.

Where could she possibly be trying to go? Lady Noir wondered.

Aphid flung himself at her, immediately turning into—

She looked away before she could see for herself. "Second Chance!'

"Move!" she yelled right before he got hit, only to have Mother Goose change the direction.

Again and again, over and over she couldn't get the scenario to work out just right. One of the animals got in the way, or Mother Goose found them if they tried a sneak attack.

"Why are you doing this?" Lady Noir asked her.

"I need to go home!"

No matter what she said, that was the only explanation Lady Noir received. She tried hundreds of times. Failure, failure, failure.

She racked her brain for a solution. She had to relive Aphid's doubtful expression every single do-over that she came to the tethered moment of time. Why did he have to look at her like she couldn't do it? He was the one who had given her the Snake Miraculous. He was the one who hadn't told her what was going on with all the other Miraculous. Why was he keeping her so in the dark?

And yet she loved him anyway. She loved how committed he was to Paris, that he would take on some new task that she still knew nothing about. She loved how he loved his city so much that he'd work day in and day out to keep it safe. That he defended her any time there was a bad press release. That he saved her and kept her from harm. 

He was steady and warm and kind and she loved him.

On what had to be her five hundredth try, when she returned to the tether moment, she decided to say the words she'd kept lodged inside like a disgusting hairball, never to see the light of day. "Aphid, I'm in love with you. I've loved you for a long time and—" Her eyes lit. "That's how we defeat her!"

"What?"

"She wants her own happy ending! She's relating to the little prince and wants to go home to her rose. That's why she wants the birds and she's not looking for snakes."

"Would've fooled me, with her turning people into gingerbread men that get gobbled up by her geese."

She shook her head, needing him to listen. "We need to live out her fairytale romance, like she already hit us. That way we can actually get close to her and you can use your power."

"Are you insane? She's going to hit us both!"

"She's obsessed with The Little Prince. If we pretend to be the little prince and his rose, she won't hurt us."

"It's too big of a risk," he whispered.

She placed a hand on his shoulder and realized he was shaking. She softened. "Aphid, you're the one who gave me the Snake Miraculous. I'm the one who needs to convince her what to do for that final sting."

He took a deep breath. "Okay. Let's do it."

It hit her that she'd been in the middle of a confession the second she'd reversed time, which he’d heard. She tried to correct her mistake. "You already heard my demonstration of how we're showing her we're in love. Let's hurry up and do that, before my time runs out."

She slid down the building, Aphid flying ahead of her, catching her in his arms in front of Mother Goose.

She hadn't been expecting that.

"My love," he murmured, eyes only for her. "My rose."

Lady Noir blushed, but didn’t break her gaze. 

He smiled, teasing as he quoted the book, "When someone blushes, doesn't that mean 'yes'?"

She kept her scowl to herself, but her cheeks reddened further. "I am your fox, tamed, and I need you, my prince.”

Mother Goose must have been enraptured despite their less than stellar acting because they weren't becoming anything else.

Aphid put her down and knelt in front of her. He kissed her hand, sending delicious tremors up her spine. "I don't need anything else in this world but you."

The words came freely, matching his fervor. "You are the one who opens my eyes, my heart, to see the stars."

His lips lingered a moment longer before he stood, his hands grasping hers, his eyes nothing but sincere. "Do you love me?"

She swallowed, quoting the book word for word, "“Of course I love you. It is my fault that you have not known it all the while."

His gaze softened. 

His mouth was so close. She careened her head up, her progress slow. His thumb was on her cheek, tracing soft patters, luring her closer. Her well in the desert.

Right before her lips touched his, Aphid shot his arm out, connecting with Mother Goose as he cried, "Venom!"

She froze. He swiped the akumatized object from her pocket, a rose, tearing it apart. The akuma flew out.

Dazed, she watched him purify the butterfly and restore Paris. 

He knelt in front of the lady who had been Mother Goose. She burst out sobbing. He embraced her, patting her back, murmuring unheard things. Lady Noir tried not to let it get to her, this other secret. As if she now knew something she didn't. 

After a minute, he kissed the lady’s cheeks and pulled away. She followed him to one of their meeting places, hiding behind the chimney's side as their transformations dropped. Their kwamis ate and she transformed back, handing Sass over after a little chin scratch. Pollen and Sass both went through his yo-yo portal, leaving them alone.

He sat with her on the side of the building and explained about an elderly man who had been the last Guardian of the Miraculous, the one who had given them Tikki and Plagg. He had watched over the Miraculous for over a century, but he was too weak to do so now and had passed on the responsibility to Aphid.

His back hunched. "I didn't tell you because it was a lot to take in."

"You don't have to do all of this alone, Aphid. I know you're the Ladybug Miraculous holder and you're basically more important even without this added to your list of things to do, but that doesn't mean I can't help, or at least be a listening ear."

"I know. I'm sorry." He rubbed his face. "I'm so tired. And I think we might need more Miraculous holders, but I don't trust anyone else but you. I don't know how he chose us."

She snorted. "I do. It involved bodily harm."

"You mean like a test to see if you could save someone?"

"Yep."

“That's what he did to me too."

"Maybe you can start doing that to people?"

He didn't look like the idea suited him. "Yeah. Maybe." His eyes lit. "Or maybe you could."

"Me?”

"You said you'd help. I don't think it'd be best if I did it. But if you knew who the holders were and didn't tell me..."

She grimaced. "I guess I could." It sounded like a lot of pressure to pick the perfect people, which was probably one of the many reasons Aphid always looked panicked. "Yeah. Do you mind me meeting the kwamis and learning about their powers sometime so I can find good fits for each of them?"

His smile was radiant. "I'd love that."

Aphid immediately started venting about how his room was falling apart now that he had seventeen kwamis, Tikki included, that enjoyed bouncing off the walls and knocking over all his stuff like cats. It was nice to see him loosen up. It's not that she hadn't realized he wasn't growing more tightly wound, but it still hurt that something in him had told her not to tell her until he'd been forced to.

Was she really not the one he could confide in? His well in the desert?

He didn't mention anything about her confession. She didn't know if that was because he was trying to be a gentleman about it and pretend it hadn't happened or because he really had thought it was just her plan for the villain.

She certainly wasn't going to ask.

Chapter Text

Marinette had been studying her classmates more intensely ever since Aphid had asked her to find holders for the Miraculous.

She was trying to assess every single possible quality for a good Miraculous holder, but it was hard. Grades didn’t really make a person a hero and, most of the time, the only thing she could observe was them sitting at their desks, bored out of their minds as they listened to their teachers drone on. It was way easier to cross people off the list of potential holders than think of giving one to any of the actual good people she’d found.

“It seems a bit weird to me to need more people on our team when we can merge Miraculous powers together,” Lady Noir said.        

Aphid rolled a crick in his neck out from the last fight. “We can only use a few Miraculous at a time, max. Using too many has serious consequences.”

“Like death?”

He bit his lip. “Yeah.”

She poked him with her baton. “Just say death next time.” She snorted. “Guardians, always making things so complicated.”

He pushed her baton away. “The point is, we need more holders in case Hawk Moth sends people our way that we can’t handle on our own. Plus maybe it will lighten our burden.”

She jutted her hip out. “Is it really though, if you want me to distribute and then collect all the Miraculous back after every fight? How am I supposed to know where these people are all the time, I just bump into them during a massive attack when we need them most? Not to mention Hawk Moth could use that time of vulnerability to steal them.”

“We can’t just give the Miraculous out to other holders permanently.”

“Why not?”

“What if they’re not trustworthy? What if they don’t use their powers for the right reasons?”

“Hence why I’m collecting a lot of information on each one of them before giving them the chance to mess up at all.” She took a deep breath. “Look, you said you trusted me with this. So trust me. After a trial run, I think at least a few Miraculous should be given to permanent holders. If it doesn’t work, I know where they live and I can take them back like the cat burglar I am.”

Aphid rubbed his face. “Okay. We can try that.”

But she hadn’t picked a single person. Not yet. All of the Miraculous were dangerous and she didn’t want any to fall into the wrong hands who would use them for evil. She didn’t tell Aphid how much she was struggling with the task. Not when he’d finally started trusting her.

“I can’t tell you how much this helps me,” Aphid said. “I know you’ve been my partner, but…I’ve always had to go everything alone, and I haven’t been the best at showing how important you are to me.”

She shrugged. “It’s kind of my job.”

“I got you something,” he said, a bit hesitant. “Close your eyes.”

She raised a brow. “I don’t trust you enough to close my eyes.”

“I’m not going to drench you in water, kitty. Just do it.”

Grumbling, she did.

“Hold out your hands.”

“I swear, if this is a bug—”

“I promise it’s not.” Something landed in her hands wrapped in packaging. “Open.”

Lady Noir did, holding whatever it was very far away until she could inspect it. Inside the clear plastic was red leggings with black polka dots.

“Aren’t these those new Agreste pajama pants?”

“The very same.”

“Isn’t this the pair that doesn’t come out for another few weeks?”

He smiled. “Don’t think the muse could pull a few strings?”

He’d never gotten her a present before and she wasn’t sure how to respond, especially when the theme was him. Aphid wasn’t the kind of guy to be self-absorbed, and she’d tried to make her feelings known, but it was still a bit unsettling to receive something out of the blue.

Aphid rubbed his neck. “Your first fact about yourself was how much you loved pajamas, so…I wanted to get you some.” He winced. “Maybe I should have gotten you the Lady Noir ones. I’m sorry, this is weird. Maybe it’s coming across as really weird.”

Which way do you want it to come across? she wand to ask. She stared down at the soft fabric, already imagining how comfy they must be. “Thanks, Aphid.”

“You mean so much to me, my lady,” he murmured. “Thank you for being my partner.”

Since his confession that he was the Guardian, she wasn’t sure how she felt about Aphid. If anything, she leaned away from his nearness. She never sought him out, she didn’t think about him constantly, and she only flirted with him when it felt like she was obligated to if the situation presented itself so clearly that there was no other way to respond.

He was a beautiful human being and yes, she did love him, but…it wasn’t like before.

Which was a good thing, because he didn’t love her. Not like that.

So when he pulled her in for a hug and let her stay in his embrace, she couldn’t help but feel a bit trapped. He wanted nothing of her that she didn’t freely give, so why, all of a sudden, was she so tense?

“It’s because you’re taking on some of his responsibilities as Guardian,” Plagg said through a mouth of cheese later that night. “That and he got you pajamas, which is a pretty romantic gift.”

“It’s the gift grandmas give on Christmas morning,” she deadpanned.

“Not these.” Plagg hovered over the leggings, caressing them lovingly. “These are silk to my paws.” He grinned. “Not to mention, they must remind you of someone. Someone you have feelings for.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “They were just the first ones he saw and he decided to get them.”

“You said they haven’t come out yet, which means he really went through a lot of trouble to get you these.”

“I highly doubt he did all that much.”

Plagg groaned. “Why else would a boy get you pajama pants with his signature colors? Isn’t that the equivalent of a boy giving their girlfriend their jacket? Or someone giving someone else cheese?”

Marinette reached for the pajamas, running her hand along them. “They can’t be literal girlfriend material, Plagg. Aphid isn’t like that. He basically said so himself.”

“You’re right. He’s a boy. He’s oblivious to how his actions are perceived by others.” He tipped his cheese to her. “My mistake.”

“And you’re so amazing at perceiving how others take things?” she mused.

“Not at all. That’s one of the only things I’ve learned over the centuries. Girls think boys are stupid.”

“They are stupid.”

Sometimes, anyway.

“Think what you want, Marinette, but either way, you have some pajama pants you need to wear in.”

Marinette stared at them for a while, opting for the ones she was already wearing. She didn’t want to hear any snide remarks from Plagg for trying them on immediately and going to bed in them.

Besides, they were just friendship pajama pants.

Right?

                                                                         /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

The mayor’s hotel was one of their more frequent dating spots, which Adrien was sure Chloe’s dad was thrilled with for the extra promotion for his hotel.

Adrien was less than thrilled. They were on the rooftop pool despite it being too cold to swim, but Chloe liked lounging no matter what time or temperature it was. She batted her eyes at him from whatever attempt of a sexy angle she was trying to pull off in her bikini, as if he’d bother to look. He remained fully clothed despite how much of a fit she’d thrown, which he’d silenced with a single glower.

He was getting a lot better at glowering and was surprised they were so effective.

“You know it’s night time, right?” Adrien said as Chloe put on her sunglasses.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t live luxuriously.”

“God forbid.”

“I need to tell you all about my day, Adrien. It was absolutely terrible.”

She then explained in rapt detail how mean everyone was to her, not moving out of her way in the hallway, not doing her homework for her, how few millions of views she had on newly uploaded content, and that no one ever got any of her food orders right despite how simple they were.

They were always the most complicated orders and he always flashed looks of apology to the poor staff.

“Sounds awful,” he said after her speech, trying not to yawn.

“But it’s over now and I’m with my Adrikens.” She turned to him, perfectly manicured nails reaching out to touch his leg. “Let’s go up to my room.”

His defenses went back up. “No, I’m not going anywhere near your room.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want anyone thinking we’re together.”

“We are together.”

But never in a million years like that, he thought. “I’m not going.”

“We are a couple, Adrien,” Chloe emphasized.

It was kind of sad, how oblivious she was to everyone else’s feelings. He decided to be honest. “You don’t really know me, Chloe. All I do is sit here and let you talk about yourself.”

“You talk about yourself sometimes. Like that one time,” she cut off abruptly, clearly trying to remember.

“Go on.”

“Like right now. You’re telling me how you’re feeling.”

“It’s a first.”

“See? I’m so good at letting people open up around me.” She sat up, facing him. “Which is why I thought we could go to the next step.”

He was pretty sure he already knew what the next step was, but he decided to let her say it herself. “And what’s that?”

Her finger pointed to him, then to herself, her other hand crawling from her bare stomach to her chest.

“Yeah, no. Our relationship is purely for the cameras. If it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t even kiss you.”

She pouted. “That’s no way to talk to your girlfriend.”

“But you’re not my girlfriend. Not really.”

Chloe stood up, hands on her hips. “Yes I am. And I can prove it to you.”

Without warning, she climbed onto his lap, running a hand up his chest.

He tensed, leaning his head away. “I said no.”

“But that’s only because you haven’t given me a chance.”

Her other hand started roaming lower.

“No!” He shoved her off, standing up as fast as he could and away from her.

“How dare you push me!” she seethed, standing up.

“You’re unbelievable. We’re done. This,” he gestured to the space between them, “is done.”

“Hah! You’ll come crawling back to me!”

Adrien went through the hotel as fast as he could, running into a group of reporters at the front doors. It was a good thing though, considering he wanted to make sure they saw him leaving so no one could say he spent the night with her. All it took to convince them that nothing was wrong was a sincere smile, which was easy enough to do after years of practice.

“Are you okay?” Tikki whispered to him as soon as he was away from people.

“Yeah,” he said, even though he was a bit anxious, as if Chloe would pop out of an alley or shadow to attack him again. He tugged his jacket tighter, shielding them both. “Let’s just get home.”

He snuck in without disturbing his father, racing upstairs, making sure to shower to get any memory of Chloe’s touch off of him before climbing into bed, all the kwamis gathering around to ask how his day had been.

“I’m single now,” he told them.

“Is that bad?” Daizzi asked.

“I thought he was already a singular entity,” Kaalki stated. “You can’t multiply like Mullo.”

“It means I don’t have a girlfriend anymore,” Adrien explained.

“Oh, you mean that crazy girl?” Roaar asked. “The one who causes a lot of akumatizations?”

“That’s the one.”

“Does that mean you can have a new girlfriend now?” Mullo asked. “A really pretty one who is actually nice?”

“Oh, I hope she’s nice!” Daizzi exclaimed.

All the kwamis started spouting off qualities they though a good girlfriend would have. Like baking cookies, having really shiny hair, being an outstanding warrior in her spare time, and, for some reason, owning a bicycle.

“You could be with Lady Noir!” Ziggy said.

He hesitated. “We’re not really supposed to be together. You know, secret identities and all that.”

“But that’s what makes it fun,” Xuppu replied.

He’d purposefully taken Lady Noir off the dating table as soon as he understood their responsibilities as the Ladybug and Cat Miraculous holders, though lately he’d felt closer to her. Just not romantic feelings close.

“What about your dance partner, Marinette?” Daizzi asked.

“What about her?”

Daizzi flitted in front of his face, getting close. “Do you like her?”

“Uh.” He blinked. “As a friend, sure?”

“Does she make you feel fuzzy and warm?”

“Does your stomach do flips around her?” Zuppu asked.    

“Does she make you want to fight an army in her name?” Kaalki asked.

Adrien did not sign up for this conversation. “We’re just dance partners.”

Though, he had to admit, she was pretty. And dedicated to what she believed in. And kind hearted, protective, not to mention looked out for him as Aphid despite not knowing—

All the kwamis were staring at him in anticipation.

“I can’t date anyone anyway. My father wouldn’t allow it.”

They all groaned.

Tikki landed above his head, smoothing out his hair. “Someday you’ll find someone who will make you feel safe and whole, Adrien.”

“I sure hope so.” He scooped her up, setting her on the pillow next to him. “Will you tell us a bedtime story?”

She smiled. “I’ll tell you all about one of my holders who had a very happy ending.”

Did some of them have unhappy endings? he wondered as he drifted to sleep, lulled there by Tikki’s peaceful love story that was everything he’d ever wanted.

Chapter Text

Ever since the kwamis had brought up the idea of Adrien being with Marinette, he couldn’t help but think about it as a possibility. Not because he felt like he had to date someone, but because he was pretty sure he liked her more than he let on. Especially after Aphid Day. And now that he wasn’t dating Chloe, he could allow himself to think through his feelings.

Despite not showing up to the party, Marinette had been relatively nice to him, though usually in roundabout ways. There were big things, like fixing his schedule so that he actually had time to sleep at night to small things like claiming she’d grabbed too many pastries and offering him some, or making a list of movies because he was uncultured for not seeing them.

He squinted at the very long list, which she’d somehow gotten onto a single page with tiny handwriting. “Have I seriously not seen any of these?”

“Do you not remember me asking you about every single one of these?”

“Most people shut out the memories of themselves being tortured.”

“Haha.” She swiped the list, shaking it at him. “You’re going to have to watch every single movie on this list.”

“Were you a dictator in a past life?”

She crossed her arms. “I’m a dictator now.”

“Not outside this room.”

“Are you saying you can’t have fun?” she said, her voice poutier than he was used to.

He smelled manipulation. Two could play at this game. “Of course I can. I don’t think you’re capable of it, though.”

“I have fun all the time.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but dancing doesn’t count as fun in this scenario. But if you really wanted to prove you’re pro-fun, we can leave right now and go to your place to watch a movie.”

Her eye twitched.

He gasped, hand over his mouth. “You seriously can’t have fun? Poor Slippers.”

“Oh, I can have fun.” She picked up her bag, then grabbed his. “Come on, Pigeon. It’s movie time.”

And so it was. It was a nice change of pace to go to Marinette’s to watch something. Entering through the front doors of her bakery, the delicious smells wafting through the display cases of goodies, was the opposite of his own house, where breathing was practically illegal.

He got to meet Marinette’s parents, who were as warm as their bakery, before Marinette swatted them away and forced him up the stairs to her room.

“Why are you looking around like you just discovered Atlantis?” Marinette asked.

“It’s your room,” he said, as if that was explanation enough. “You seem really private, so getting to be in here is just…something I never expected I’d get the chance to do.”

She fiddled with her DVD player. “I don’t see why you’d want to be in here?”

Adrien rubbed his neck. “It’s your personal space and it means a lot that you’d allow me to see it.”

It’s not like I want to do any other unspeakable acts in here, he thought, wanting to shake himself for even thinking that, as if his thoughts had been nothing but chaste.

“Look around, then. You have permission to snoop.”

He decided to remark on basically everything he found. “Lots of pink.”

“Ballerina.”

He pointed up to her loft of a bed. “Cat pillow?”

“It’s cute.”

“Plenty of pajama pants lying around.”

“I’m a very cozy slob.”

“Do you really feel the need to defend everything I find?”

She turned to him, eyebrow raised. “You’re saying it in a condescending tone.”

He walked up to her, lips puckering. “If the slipper fits.”

Adrien forced his smile to remain unseen as her face soured. After a few seconds, he went back to exploring. “I’m seriously not being condescending, you know. I like who you are.”

She didn’t reply, most likely too busy skipping through all the trailers.

He did love that she’d most likely made no attempt to clean her room when he’d coming in, as if she was completely comfortable with him knowing her. That, or she didn’t care what he thought of her.

Adrien frowned, picking up a white blob. “Is this cheese?”

Marinette bolted from her chair, grabbing the piece from his fingers. “Wow, that must be from forever ago. My dad always brings me food secretly and sometimes I don’t find things until later. Sorry about that.”

“Wow.” He wiped his fingers on his pants, trying not to smell them. “Now I’m going to be condescending. That’s a fake story. You are a slob.”

"Okay, your snooping time is over.” She planted her hands on his shoulders, shoving him towards the chairs across from her projector. “Are you ready to watch the greatest movie ever made?”

He sat down, not exactly thrilled to watch a princess movie. “You’re psyching this up way too much.”

Her finger came to his mouth, pressing hard. “Don’t talk trash about it until after you’ve seen it.”

His lips heated from her touch. She didn’t notice, too busy starting the movie before settling into her chair with perfect posture. When she saw him staring, she pushed him and grabbed his chin, turning his face towards the screen.

He kept from rolling his eyes, but averted his attention to the movie when her hand fell away. “I didn’t think you were that into princesses.”

“It’s not about the dresses and tiaras. Just watch.”  

And it was actually amazing—not that he wasn’t expecting it to be anything less. He personally liked princess movies, or at least the ones he’d seen before his mom had died.

Marinette was a great person to watch movies with, too. She kept getting them snacks and stayed quiet unless he asked a question or made a comment. Despite having seen the movie over a dozen times, she still laughed at her favorite parts and even seemed to hold her breath when the villains showed up, as if she didn’t know what was going to happen.

Plus it was nice to see her in pajama pants, curled up and relaxed, so much less guarded than he was used to seeing her. Like she was actually a kid still and not the stuffy adult she always pretended to be.

When the credits started rolling, she asked, “What did you think?”

“I have a new favorite movie.”

Marinette clapped. “I knew it.”

The fact that she knew him well enough to know what he’d like sent a wave of awe through him.

He looked down at his hands. “No one’s ever done something like this for me before.”

“What? Watch a movie with you?”

“My mom used to, but…” He took a deep breath.

Marinette shifted so that she was leaning towards him. “We could watch one of her favorites next time, if you want.”

“Really?”

“Sure. I’d like to get to know your mom.”

He met her eyes. “Yeah?”

Marinette nodded. “So…what was she like?”

Adrien took a deep breath, his heart stuttering. He’d wanted to talk about his mom for such a long time, but no one had ever wanted to listen, or at least listen for the right reasons. His father never wanted to hear it, the reporters only wanted to hear a sob story, and the kwamis, well, they were good intentioned, but they didn’t understand what it was like, to have a mother get ripped away from you.

And maybe Marinette didn’t either, but she was still human and he thought that maybe even if she hadn’t been through it, she’d understand.

“She was a spotlight,” Adrien said. “She wanted everyone to be able to shine and could make them grow and flourish, just with a tiny amount of attention. But that’s not to say she didn’t have her own fair share of attention.”

He watched Marinette get comfier, her smile content as she settled in, clearly wanting to listen to him. Enjoying it.

So he kept going. “She was a singer.”

And he continued for hours into the night, until his voice was hoarse, his heart was overflowing with so many mixed emotions, and Marinette was nodding off, but still fighting it, trying to listen, her feet pointing and flexing every once and a while to keep her awake.

“Oh.” He hadn’t realized the time. “I’m sorry, Marinette. I really shouldn’t have stayed this late.”

She yawned, stretching like a content cat. “I’m the one who invited you over. Don’t worry, I liked it.”

“…You did?”

“Yep.”

“Even though all I did was talk about myself?”

“You never talk about yourself. You should.” Her head started sinking again, eyes closed. “I like hearing about you.”

He waited for her to say she was kidding, but she didn’t. Not to mention she was basically sleepy drunk and he doubted she could pull off a lie in this state. “Can you make it to bed okay?”

“Mhmm.”

He looked up the ladder that led to her mattress. “I’m kind of doubting that.”

She stood up, curtseying. “I have poise.”

He caught her as she started to fall. “Yeah. You’re poised to trip and break your leg, and not in the good luck sort of way.”

She scoffed. “I can do it.”

“Sorry, Slippers. You’d kill me if you got hurt because I was being negligent.” He scooped her up despite her protests. “Besides, I promised I wouldn’t let you fall.”

“Stupid Pigeon,” she muttered, her head coming to his chest.

He somehow managed to carry her up the ladder, but ended up crawling into bed with her to set her down in a way that wasn’t going to hurt her.

“Why are you on top of me?” Marinette whispered.

“I’m tucking you in, remember?” He lifted the comforter, making sure it was covering her body. “Look at you, all cozy.”

Her eyes opened, just barely. “Are you going to stay here?”

“Nah. I’ll head home.”

He felt much more at home at Marinette’s place than he did in his own despite the few hours he’d spent in it.

“Hey…” He hovered over here, unable to sit up with the ceiling being so close. “Thanks for listening to me talk about my mom.”

“Anytime.” Her hand came out from the covers, falling on top of his hand. “She’d be proud of you.”

His face softened. He waited a few moments, making sure she wasn’t going to say anything else, spying some sort of Aphid inspired fabric peeking out from under her pillow. He couldn’t help but love what a big supporter she was of him.

Her hand went lax. He wanted to kiss her forehead, but thought better of it. Not when he didn’t have permission.

Adrien climbed out of her bed and down the ladder as silently as possible, grabbing his things before going downstairs, letting Marinette’s parents know he was headed out.

“I can’t believe they let me stay in their daughter’s bedroom that late,” Adrien said to Tikki after they’d left.

“They must really trust her.”

“I guess they’d think she’d beat me up if I wasn’t a gentleman.”

“Maybe they trust you too.”

He highly doubted that, given his own father didn’t. Though he did kind of get it, considering he hadn’t told him the truth about breaking up with Chloe. He was aiming to put it off as long as possible, hoping he could come up with ways to quell his wrath.

“I’m sorry your mom isn’t here, Adrien.”

He looked up at the starry sky. “Me too.”

But at least he had another spotlight in his life. One that would never replace his mom, but maybe one day would be something more.

Chapter Text

Adrien arrived at the dance studio with a flurry of nerves tingling down his limbs and settling like wasps in his stomach. Last night had been amazing and, ever since, he couldn’t help but have fallen for Marinette. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that she was everything he wanted in a girl—except a bit too bossy, but hey, she was his dance instructor. He didn’t mind being told what to do by women, but Marinette didn’t exactly pull her punches.

Either way, he liked her. Heck, he’d liked her ever since meeting her. He’d envisioned last night happening all those months ago on day one, going over to her place and getting to know her without all the walls and hurt keeping them from each other. Yes, he’d deserved it, but now, maybe they could have that.

Maybe they could have something more.

He quietly entered the studio, not wanting to disturb Marinette, who was busy going over their routine by herself. She hadn’t taught him the ending yet and she was clearly struggling with the choreography, something he wasn’t used to seeing.

She stopped mid-pose, muttering to herself, her hair a mess.

He set down his bag. “You okay, Slippers?”

“Staying peachy.” Adrien didn’t press it. Not that he would have had time. She was already onto the next subject, handing him a clothing hanger. “Here. We need to try on our costumes for round two.”

They’d been fitted several times for them already, so he wasn’t surprised that Marinette had somehow snagged them without needing to give a final confirmation that everything fit correctly for the umpteenth time.

She grabbed her own clothing bag. “I’ll be right back.”

“Same.”

They went to their respective rooms to change. He still wasn’t used to the design. He did the walk of shame into the studio, finding Marinette already dressed and inside.

He tried not to look in the mirror at his super heroine inspired costume. It was more masculine than Lady Noir’s, of course, but for a guy to wear tight black anything was demoralizing to say the least. He’d grown used to his polka dotted suit and he did have to say it fit the contours of his muscles and gave him a very appealing look. But this?

Adrien studied the black mask covering his eyes, the sleekness of the black—the stupid tail.

Marinette giggled the second she saw him.

He turned from the mirror, trying to hide his scowl. “You’re being mean.”

“No, no.” She put a hand over her mouth. “You look great.”

“I know when you’re lying.”

Her hands came behind her back, innocent. “Do you?”

He crossed his arms. “You never think I look great.”

Her eyebrow quirked up. “You look better in this than in your normal clothes. Besides, you look like Westley from The Princess Bride.”

“So you’re saying I’m hot?”

“Isn’t that a fact?”

He held up his tail. “This isn’t helping me feel confident about my attractiveness.”

Marinette stepped closer, placing a finger under his chin. “Awe, poor kitty.”

He groaned, batting her finger away. “Don’t call me that.”

“Am I bugging you?” she asked.

He walked away. “Please stop.”

She followed. “Are you feline annoyed with me?”

“We need to switch costumes if you’re going to keep that up.”

She laughed. “You definitely have his personality.”

He cleared his throat, hoping to try to do whatever it took to prove he wasn’t Aphid. He couldn’t help but see her flirtations as a win, even if she was mimicking Lady Noir.

Marinette went through a series of warm-ups absentmindedly. “We still need to practice in these a few times to make sure we can move in them for the competition.”

He sidled up to her, batting his eyes and doing his best Lady Noir and Westley impression. “As you wish.”

Her smile was radiant. He couldn’t help but perk up at the sight. Not to mention she was wearing her Aphid inspired tutu, her whole ensemble bright red with his polka dots. It was a bit weird, seeing her in his colors. As if they were a couple and he’d loaned her his jacket that she now claimed as her own because she wanted to wear something that belonged to him.

“My lady,” she whispered in his ear.

He didn’t want to take her joke lying down. He planted a hand on her lower back, pulling her close, a finger to her mouth. “I believe that’s my line now.”

Her eyes went wide. His hand rose higher, his own mouth coming to her ear. “We’ll show Hawk Moth exactly what we’re made of. He could never beat a team like us, my lady.”

She shuddered under his touch, stepping away. “We don’t have to act, you know. Just dance.”

“You started it.” Adrien kept from shaking out his hand, as if it’d gotten pins and needles. “Besides, that’s part of dancing sometimes. Aren’t you the one who taught me that?”

Marinette faced the mirror. “I guess I did.”

He decided against bringing up the fact that she’d gotten flustered because of his closeness and had to try especially hard not to get distracted by her every move. “I still say you’d look cute in cat ears.”

Her smile lit a warmth within him. He didn’t want it to go out.

“…I actually got you something,” he said.

“Is it good technique?”

“I’m seriously not that bad,” he retorted, going to his bag to grab the actual gift.

She scoffed. “Not bad isn’t perfect.”

“I can take back your gift.”

Marinette dusted off her tutu and stayed still.

He handed it to her. “Straight from the latest Agreste line.”

“Pajama pants?” she asked.

“The Lady Noir ones, yeah.” He tried not to feel self-conscious. “You’re a big fan of hers, right? You’ve defended her before and watch her social media pages, so…”

She turned them over in her hands. “They’re really nice. Thank you.”

Just like with Lady Noir, he’d had to jump through a lot of hoops to get that pair. They weren’t on the shelves yet and it was already estimated that they’d be sold out in seconds flat.

Not that he’d gotten her something highly coveted on purpose to impress her. He just figured after seeing all the pajama pants all over her room, she’d like a new pair.

“Thanks for last night. I really want to be friends and it was really nice to know you care.”

“Of course I care,” she said, placing her gift in her bag with care. “I wanted to be friends with you right away. It just didn’t work out.”

Marinette started dancing by herself again, as if their conversation was over. But his wish to start over with her had never gone away. Everything that happened on day one may have destroyed their chances, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t rebuild it from scratch. Right now.

                                                                             /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

“I broke up with Chloe.”

Marinette’s body whirled to a stop. One second, they’d been talking about pajamas and the next he was saying words she’d been dying to hear ever since she’d learned he was dating her worst nightmare. “You…what?”

“I broke up with her. We’re no longer together, not that we were ever really together.”

Except, according to Lila, they had been. Not that she trusted Lila, but she didn’t fully trust Adrien yet either. “Congratulations, then?”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his neck. “So if I’m murdered anytime, know that it was her, taking my breath away the only way she possibly could.”

“The walking catastrophe,” she muttered.

“Was that a cat pun?”

She flinched. “Nope. Let’s get back to practicing. I still need to figure out the end of the routine.”

“You don’t have any questions for me about it?”

“It’s your business,” she said, trying not to sound short but not succeeding. “I don’t want to meddle in your private life.”

“You’re a good listener and I don’t have anything to hide from you,” he said.

“Did you…?” She stopped herself from finishing the question, shaking her head. “Never mind.”

He followed her. “Did I…?”

She kept doing chaînés and piqués, types of easy turns to create some distance. She probably looked crazy. “Nope. It’s stupid.”

“I’d really like to know.”

“Nope.”

He cut off her last turn, grabbing her wrist and waist, just like she taught him. “Marinette, it’s me.”

That’s the problem, she wanted to say. She shouldn’t care about what he did or didn’t do with Chloe. And sure, he’d broken up with her, but at the same time she couldn’t believe he’d been with her in the first place. Would his father seriously force him to be with such an awful person against his will?

And why should it matter to her so much, anyway? How could she admit to him that she cared in the slightest what he’d done with his ex-girlfriend?

“I just…wondered…uh,” she stepped away, deciding to rephrase it, “if you knew that Lila was claiming you slept over at Chloe’s all the time.”

He looked like she’d just electrocuted him. “Why would she say that?”

“Are you saying it’s not true?”

“I’d have to be kidnapped with chloroform to go into Chloe’s room. Which I swear she’d do if given the chance. She’s…” He averted his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. We’re not together.”

Marinette didn’t like the darkness that had clouded his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Did you have any other questions?”

“No.” 

“Did you seriously think I’d be with her like that?”

She forced herself not to lie. “I just…I’ve had a hard time figuring you out is all. But no, it didn’t really add up to the person I thought you were.”

“Am I decent now?”

More than that, but she didn’t really want to admit it. “I wouldn’t have shown you the best movie of all time if I didn’t think you were worthy of it, Pigeon.”

He gave a weak smile.

She tried to tease him a little more, hoping it would help his mood. “Cheer up. You’re living the bachelor life now. I’m sure all the girls in our class will be foaming at the mouth for a chance to be with you.”

“I don’t want the attention.”

“You sound like Aphid again,” she said, quickly trying to cover her tracks. “Not that I know him.”

“I’m definitely not anything like him,” Adrien said.

She wished he would stop staring at her.

“I better figure out the end of this routine.” Marinette hurried away, trying not to blush. Why was she so nervous around him all of a sudden?

And why did she have to remember him carrying her to bed right then?

Her nerves started fraying. They really shouldn’t have taken the night off last night to watch a movie and she shouldn’t have wasted time talking about Adrien’s girlfriend drama. Round two was almost upon them and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out the end of this routine.

No more distractions. No more feelings. It was time to practice.

Adrien tried to match her random steps in the middle of the dance floor. “Do you want help?”

She wobbled. “No, I got it.”

He wobbled along with her. “You know, one of those judges said you needed to work on your emotions?”

Her toes curled into her slippers. “So?”

“So…maybe we should really try to show them off? That you have them?”

“Of course I have emotions,” she seethed, switch leaping through the air, almost kicking him on impact. “I have emotions all the time. I’m human.”

He put his hands up in defense. “I know. But, to be fair, when you dance, you kind of become…uh, robotic?”

“What are you talking about?”

But she knew she was like that, especially then, as she fought for dear life to stuff down all the emotions bubbling up like very obvious, smelly gas. She couldn’t deal with them right now and she definitely didn’t want Adrien to see them.

He grimaced. “Well, I think you maybe get super focused on the routine that you forget to add expressions and your own personal flare to it.”

“Because you want me to be a model like you?”

“Of course not, but it’s all kind of in the same vein, in a way. Parts of it,” he amended.

Marinette took a deep breath. “Thank you for trying to help, Adrien, but I’m more focused on figuring out the end to the routine and us being able to perform it together.”

“But you’re kind of blocked on that too, right?”

“Nope.”

They stared at one another. Adrien forfeited first, beginning to pace. She watched. She’d be amused if she wasn’t panicking over needing the end to their dance.

Adrien stopped suddenly, blurting out, "Will you dance with me?”

She lifted an eyebrow. "I'm forced to, remember?"

"No. I meant will you go dancing with me. Tonight."

Her brain shorted out. "So...not to practice?"

"For fun."

"Fun," she repeated, straightening. "As friends?"

Sure, their relationship had gotten better, but that didn’t mean they were besties or did much together not related to the show.

Except for last night, when he’d almost spent the night at her place, his side touching hers as they watched a romantic movie together, his warm green eyes melting her with his dastardly charm, his body right above hers—

His face twitched, as if it hadn’t occurred to him that they could be such a thing. "Yeah. As friends."

But then it clicked. He’d just broken up with Chloe. “I’m not your rebound girl, am I?”

“Why would you think that?” His jaw locked. “Marinette, I never liked Chloe. If anything, this is a celebration of not being with her.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But really, it’s not about her at all. I thought you’d enjoy going dancing.”

Marinette eyed him skeptically. It wasn't that she hadn't known people to go dance in friend groups. People could dance without any romance being brought into it, but at the same time for Adrien to invite her out to go do more of the thing he always complained about, something he did for up to six hours a day, was more than just a little off. "This isn't a date?"

"Of course not," he said. "I know you're not interested in me."

His neck was still sweating from their minimal practice. He was seriously up for more of this? "We could do something else, if you want."

"No. We should dance."

Her eyebrows raised. "What's got you so excited about dance, anyway? You’re the one who said dance doesn’t count as fun."

Adrien shrugged. "You like it, don't you? Besides, I thought maybe us dancing in a different kind of setting would help us get over the block?"

"I don't have a block," she muttered. "But fine. Let's go."

“Great.”

“I’m going to want to change first,” Marinette said. “Can I meet you in an hour?”

His smile was tentative, but endearing. “It’s a not-date.”

Chapter Text

Adrien had been kicking himself ever since he’d left the studio and Tikki, as always, had tried to calm him down. He’d decided to shower and put on something a bit more appropriate for a club—items of clothing that weren’t Agreste brand that he’d hidden from his father.

It was important that for once he got to do something on his own terms that didn’t involve polka dots.

“You look handsome,” Tikki complimented after he’d changed.

Adrien mussed with his hair for the dozenth time, grimacing at the mirror. “Thanks, Tikki.”

“I’m sure tonight will be a lot of fun.”

He didn’t exactly want fun though. He wanted to get closer to Marinette. To see her outside of some setting where she felt the need to do absolutely everything. Heroes Day, dance practice, school—she was always too hardcore focused. And he liked that she was such a go getter, but at the same time she seriously needed to relax.

Like last night during movie night.

And maybe if she wasn’t in the studio, she’d notice how green his eyes were and that maybe he wasn’t such a terrible person to think about being with.

Adrien snuck out of the house, Tikki in his pocket, glad for once that his father and everyone else were on some business trip. He took a cab to their meeting place, making sure to be a bit early. He tapped his foot on the sidewalk to ease his anxiety, Tikki nudging him through his shirt to try to calm him down.

The clack of heels made him turn. He had to keep his mouth closed as he took in her dark red dress. It flared out, showing her legs off. If that wasn’t breathtaking enough, it had an open back, with some teasing slits along her neck and shoulders as well.

Adrien had no idea how she had gotten home that fast or had time to transform into an absolute queen in such a short time.

And he had to say something, because he’d been speechless for too long. “It’s a shame you can’t wear that for our next dance routine. The judges would love it.”

She put a finger to her chin, eyeing him up and down. “I guess you’re acceptable.”

Adrien adjusted his dress shirt. “I’ll take the compliment. Shall we?”

“I guess.”

He held back an eyeroll as they started walking. “You know, I’d get tired of pretending to hate things all the time.”

“Who says I’m pretending?”

“If you’re upset, I bet it’s because you have those monstrosities on your feet and it has nothing to do with me.”

Marinette glanced down at the skyscraper-like heels she was somehow effortlessly walking in. “I’m practicing for the competition.”

It was always about the competition. Still, he wasn’t going to ruin it for her. It was important. Not that he expected any of their future routines to actually involve her wearing heels. He didn’t call her out on the blatant lie. “I’m surprised into saying I prefer the ballet slippers.”

She graced him with a rare smile.

Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea, even if things hadn’t gone as planned.

The club he chose was one he'd done a lot of research on. Less crowded inside, but full enough that the vibe was still pretty high energy. It wasn’t as packed as most nightclubs got where you couldn't move. He really wasn't into huge crowds and doubted Marinette was, especially if she wasn't given enough room to dance. 

They walked straight past the line, Adrien only having to make eye contact with the bouncer for them to be let in. 

"Do you come here a lot?" Marinette asked.

"Never been here before." He grabbed her hand, making sure they wouldn't get lost in the crowd of people in the halls. "I know it doesn't impress you that I get whatever I want with just a look at my face."

They made it to the main room, immediately standing along the wall near the entrance, apprehensive to join the bodies swaying on the dance floor.

"You've earned the modeling gig, as far as I'm concerned," Marinette said. "And your dancing isn't gag worthy anymore." 

He snorted. "Yeah. I did so much to earn a pretty face."

She cleared her throat. "I didn't mean you're good at it because of your face. You're good at expressing yourself. You're a fast learner and really talented. You could seriously do whatever you want and do a great job at it."

It was practically foreign to be praised by her. He had to keep his mouth from falling open. "Thank you." He shifted, trying not to be flustered. "Have you been to a nightclub before?"

"I'm usually a bit busy. Plus it's never really been my scene. Everyone dancing out of sync?"

"The horror."

She balled her hands into fists. "I can do this."

An hour earlier, when she was practicing the same choreography again and again, looking ready to shatter the mirror.

He held out his hand. "Let me lead."

“Why?”

“Like you said, I’m not gag worthy.”

“I said your dancing isn’t, but that doesn’t mean you know how to lead.”

“What happened to me being a fast learner?” Adrien kept his hand out, waiting.

With a sigh, she took it. He led her to the dance floor.

The music pulsed in his ears as he found the rhythm and the style he felt best matched the song. Her eyebrows were pulled down in concentration as she struggled, for once, not to give the orders. Or maybe he was just bad at this.

Heck, I’m going to round two. I’ve earned the right to say I’m good at this, Adrien thought to himself.

The confidence pushed him to get a bit more extravagant. Marinette faltered a bit with her steps, biting her lip.

"Stop thinking so much," he murmured into her ear. "You're an artist. Do what feels right."

Her muscles relaxed.

At first, she was a bit awkward as she slid into her new role, one that didn’t involve criticizing or picking apart every movement. But as time went on, she let go, her spontaneous choreography fluid and comfortable. He'd started his movements farther away, not wanting to overwhelm her as she found herself. But after a few songs, their bodies collided.

It was magic.

This must have been what Marinette had always talked about, as if the dancing changed a person into something more, something better. The way their bodies matched the music, beat for beat, and melded into one another. When he moved, she moved. She seemed to sense what he wanted to do before he did it, gorgeous and graceful.

He poured out all the stops. Marinette had taught him where to look, when, and how. It'd never really occurred to him how much thought went into every little detail of a routine. The eye contact was important, but do it too long or robotically and it was creepy. Have a concentrating expression? Get rid of it. Dancing was supposed to look effortless, even when it wasn't.

He looked. He kept his face professional, his head matching her own movements as she started throwing in her own choreography. Their gazes locked together before peeling away again. Both of her legs were around his own, their hips touching and swaying. He let his eyes smolder into hers as the distance vanished between them. Their mouths nearly brushed together, their breath mingling as his hands roamed all along her body.

Her eyelids fluttered, practically an invitation to keep going. Telling him that, for once, he was doing something right.

"You've gotten really good at that," she said breathlessly.

His hand came up her waist, his head leaning so close to the side of hers that his nose touched her ear. "I had a good teacher."

Her leg tightened around his hip. 

His breath came too fast. He wanted to run her hands down his side, draw her against him. Adrien finished a fluid set of moves to remove her leg as nonchalantly as possible before pulling away, a lazy smile on his face. "I need to get some water. I'll be right back."

Marinette took another step back, her shoulders raising as if he'd suggested she quit dancing forever, but he was too busy trying to get away from her to think much of it.

Adrien walked as quickly as he could to the bathrooms, gasping as he went inside, glad that it was empty. He shoved himself into a stall and locked the door, placing his forehead on it.

He needed to rid himself of the way his body felt pressed against her. The way his heart tripped over itself in her presence. The obvious chemistry erupting between them. But that was impossible. The show wasn’t over yet.

"This is so stupid!" he whispered to Tikki. "How could I tell her this isn't a date? This totally would have been a date."

"As often as I tell you to be honest, maybe it's better for you to hold off on telling her how you feel until after the competition ends," Tikki advised.

"I know. I wasn't bringing her here because I thought something would happen." Though it was exactly what he'd imagined. Being in a crowded, musky room, with only the thrum of music and heat of each other the only things that mattered. "But I do like her, Tikki. I want to be with her."

It was a thrill to say it out loud. Maybe it was a bit premature, but for once someone in his life actually made him happy. He didn’t want to let that go.

"You deserve to be with someone who wants to be with you. Who will be good to you."

He touched her cheek. "Thanks. I just...I feel like, despite the amount of times we haven't seen eye to eye, that it's her. And I know that doesn't make any sense, but I can't shake it, either."

"And it has nothing to do with the fact that you're a teenaged boy with needs?" 

Adrien cringed. "Never, ever say that again. And I don't have needs, I have wants. I don't need something physical. I just...I like her." He held up his hand, which she sat in. "I just want her to like me back."

"I'm sure everything will work out in the end."

"Thanks, Tikki." He gave her a quick kiss, glad to have someone who would listen to his longings without ever making fun of him for it, before opening his pocket for her to fly into.

He found Marinette with some water, fending herself off from a boy. Adrien hovered nearby, seeing if he’d be needed, but after what Adrien imagined to be a pretty polite burn, the guy went on his less than merry way.

“Not interested?” Adrien asked.

She rolled her eyes. “I came here to dance with you, not anyone else.”

He had to beat his ego over the head to keep it from inflating too much.

Adrien wanted to ask about her relationship history. From school gossip that he overheard and didn’t participate in, Marinette had never had a boyfriend or really shown interest in anyone. Most people seemed to joke that she’d end up marrying her ballet shoes. If anyone had ever shown interest in Marinette, he hadn’t heard about it.

Which meant that if he was going to confess, he might actually have a shot.

“I’m surprised you never take a break,” he said easily, forcing his fingers not to tap against his leg. He was exhausted from dancing all day, every day, and the frantic nectar of adrenaline wasn’t helping.

“Well, as I told you before,” she raised her glass to him, “I go hard.”

He remembered the moment well. Her legs wrapped around him. Her red scowling face. All the accidental innuendos.

Adrien raised his own glass. “To not walking because of everything you do to me.”

She sighed, but clinked, taking a sip. “I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

“Then why did you?”

Marinette’s eyes flitted over him, as if she’d find the answers there. “Maybe I need to be knocked down a few pegs.”

“A few?”

She nudged him with her hip, turning towards the dance floor. “Yeah. You’re not so bad.”          

His thoughts kept insisting he voice thoughts that he shouldn’t be, Tell her how you feel. She came here with you, didn’t she? She’s right there, tell her. Tell her!

Adrien licked his lips, the words starting to form in his throat as his heart pattered into it. “Marinette—”

“You!”

It took Adrien a few seconds too long to realize that Chloe was right in front of them, literally boiling red.

"Chloe." Adrien wasn't expecting to see her. In fact, he’d be happy if he never had to see her again, much less right now on his not-date with Marinette. “What are you doing here?”

Chloe held her phone out, showing a picture of Adrien and Marinette dancing at the club from social media, which had been tagged. No wonder the floor had gotten so much busier. “How could you?”

“We broke up,” Adrien said matter-of-factly. Marinette crossed her arms, watching the display with a bland disinterest.

“I know we ‘broke up.’” Chloe used air quotes, as if the concept didn’t exist for her. “For publicity.”

Well, this was awkward. “Chloe, my argument with you wasn’t in front of the press. It was a real break up.”

She laughed. “Right. No, you’re here dancing with banana girl because your agent must have asked you to in order to stir up some juicy gossip and help you both win, considering she needs it.”

Adrien couldn't believe she'd blatantly slip in a perfect excuse as to why he was at a club with Marinette. It would be so easy to agree. Yes, their publicists had forced them here. He hadn't wanted to go. He wasn't enjoying himself. He didn't love her.

And this time, without a doubt, there was no hesitation in his words. “It was my idea. I wanted to dance with her here tonight.”

Chloe’s face fell. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“I’m not. You and I aren’t dating anymore. We’re broken up. I never liked you and I never will, I was just doing it because I was forced to,” he stated. “It’s really weird that you stalked me on social media and came here. You should leave.”

Her nostrils flared. “After everything I’ve done, Adrikens. I expected better of you.”

“Treat Marinette well and then maybe we can hang out again,” he said.

Which he doubted would ever, ever happen.

“You’ll be sorry.”

They watched her go. Adrien grabbed Marinette’s hand, pulling her in the opposite direction, down a few hallways into what was probably a staff area, but he didn’t care. It was vacant and he couldn’t stand being in the same room as Chloe.

“Are you okay?” Marinette asked.

He ran a hand down his face. “I should be asking you that. I’m sorry she showed up.”

“No. It’s fine. I…guess it confirms you’re seriously not together.”

Adrien shook his head. “I never wanted to be. You know how awful she is. And I don’t want to make excuses, like letting my father run my life for me down to the clothes I wear every day to when I’m allowed to step foot outside, but I finally made a decision for myself.”

“He’s going to be really mad at you, isn’t he?”

“You’re worth it.”

“Me?”

He’d spoken without thinking. How was he going to get out of that?

The thing was, he didn’t want to get out of it. Not when he felt so alive when he was with her.

Adrien took a step forward, ready to tell her the truth. "The thing is, Marinette, I—"       

The floor shook. The ceiling overhead started cracking.

He grabbed Marinette, pulling her out of the way as a section fell. They barely made it, coughing as the debris and dust settled, which didn’t happen very quickly as the walls to the dance floor room and their hallway was torn to shreds, disappearing in a storm of rose petals.

An akumatized person hovered above the dance floor. "I'm Eros and everyone will love me!" 

Chloe.

Without missing a beat, she aimed the bow she was holding at the nearest guy, causing him to stand right underneath her, reaching up in reverence before bowing down.

She brushed her hand indifferently in his direction. “See yourself out. You’re not who I’m here for.”

With a mangled cry of rejection, the man dashed out the front doors.

Adrien's stomach sank. Anyone hit by her arrow would turn into a hypnotized plaything. And he was the main target. 

He was still clutching Marinette under his arm. She made the situation more complicated, since she was probably a target too. He had to figure out a way to get Chloe, or Eros, to leave Marinette alone while letting him keep his wits so that he could get away and transform without being noticed.

He hoped Lady Noir would show up soon to help out. It was always easier when she had his back. 

“Stay here,” he said to Marinette before raising his voice. "Hey, Eros," he called. "I'm sorry. I really should have gone out dancing with you. Mind coming down here so I can make up for it?" 

"As if." She aimed her arrow at him. "What could you possibly do that you couldn't do for me after a minor adjustment?" 

"Maybe it's just me, but free will is a bit sexier, don't you think? I've been holding out on you and don't plan to when you deserve so much more." 

The bow lowered. She descended. 

"Adrien," Marinette argued under her breath. 

"When an opportunity comes, run," he whispered. 

"I wasn't worried about me." 

He ignored her, stepping up to Eros. In a way, she was beautiful. A rose, with gold twisting up her ivory vined suit, thorns piercing through, ready to tear into anyone who touched her. 

"This suits you." He swallowed. “It’s incredibly hot.” 

Her lips pursed as she looked him up and down. "You have come to your senses." 

She grabbed the front of his shirt, but didn’t make another move, as if forcing herself to remember that he’d basically promised to be her boy toy. 

He wished there was another option, but he had to give himself an opportunity to become Aphid. That, or he needed to give his earrings to Tikki to take somewhere else, to find Lady Noir to do the rest of the job, which wasn’t going to happen when he was this close to an akumatized person.  

Lady Noir will come, he told himself. I can trust her. 

Though he wished she’d gotten there before his mouth had descended onto Chloe’s. 

He’d gotten out of kissing Chloe almost every time they’d been together, always pretending to be oblivious or making excuses, except for when they were in front of Marinette or the paparazzi.

Once was far too many times.

Kissing her was like being asked to go through a tunnel of snakes and cobwebs, but in a way that dirtied more than just the exterior. Her hands were possessive, taking advantage of his generosity, causing him to shudder.  

But he kept the kiss going. This was for Paris. For Marinette. He could kiss her if it meant keeping everyone else safe. Even if he was ready to go bathe in acid to scrub away every part of her touch. 

Her hand was starting to drift lower, causing him to panic. His belt had been loosened for him. The button undone. Her hand—

Eros was ripped off him and hurled to the ground, hitting hard.

Adrien stepped back, barely taking in the black cat’s claws poised for action, too focused on the nightmare.

Lady Noir hissed. “Keep your dirty paws off him.”  

He let out a breath of relief as Lady Noir started attacking relentlessly, not giving Eros a moment to recover.  

Adrien sprinted out of the room, making sure the coast was clear before transforming and using his Lucky Charm, receiving a rose. He barely shook his head, holding back a swear, not knowing what to do with something so trivial as he rushed back into the room to see the damage that had been done. 

Lady Noir stood above an already de-akumatized Chloe, sneering as the butterfly started fluttering upwards. Without thinking, he snagged the bug in his yo-yo, purifying it. 

“It’s not my fault my boyfriend was swindled!” Chloe cried out.  

“Go home, Chloe. And leave him alone,” Lady Noir said.

“You’re a pathetic alley cat, the scourge of Paris!”

“Hey,” Aphid snapped. “Do not ever badmouth my partner. You hear me? She saved your life.”

Lady Noir had already fled the scene. He followed, desperate to keep up, finding her in a back hallway, searching for an exit.

“My lady?” 

He offered the rose his powers had given him.  

Her nose upturned. 

He wasn’t expecting that to sting so much. “Why are you mad at me?” 

“I’m not.” 

He blinked. “Then why won’t you look at me?” 

“She’s an absolute brat.” Her eyes narrowed. “I want to sink my claws into her so she knows what it’s like to be a scratching post.” 

“Had she attacked someone?” he asked carefully. 

“A boy at the club. She took advantage of him.” 

He hadn’t thought she was capable of inflicting her words with such hostility. It felt kind of nice, that she cared that much about his wellbeing, even if she didn’t know it was him.  

“I need to go look for him,” Lady Noir said.

And he needed to look for Marinette. Aphid almost cursed, not believing that he’d forget about her. The rose made more sense now. “I can, if you want. I’m sure I have more time.” 

“I don’t need my Cataclysm to make sure she doesn’t cause trouble,” Lady Noir sneered. “I have all the time in the world.” 

“Ah.” He twirled the rose in his fingers, barely avoiding the thorns. “Well, he couldn’t have gone too far.”

“Until next time, Aphid.”

And then she was gone.

He locked his jaw, begrudgingly going to the main room again, feeling like he needed to check on Chloe again to make sure she wasn’t causing more trouble. It looked like she was, trying to fish her phone out from some rubble.

It made him sick to look at her. As if he’d needed more of a reason to hate her.

“I’m about to use my powers to set everything back to normal, so there’s no reason to do that,” he said.

Chloe kept tugging. “I don’t want your stupid help.” 

Something inside him snapped. “Maybe if you didn’t treat the world like everything and everyone belonged to you your boyfriend would actually love you.” 

It was probably the meanest thing he could have said and definitely not what Aphid would have said. Aphid, who he’d purposefully molded into being someone who didn’t give his real opinions to the public. The model hero who definitely wasn’t a jerk and who didn’t give into the spotlight. 

Not that there was anyone but Chloe in the room, but Chloe had power. When she spoke, people heard her, even if they didn’t exactly listen.  

Her voice remained quiet. “You don’t know anything about my boyfriend.”  

“I don’t think he’s your boyfriend anymore,” he muttered. 

“He’s the forgiving type.” 

Meaning what, she was going to blackmail him again?  

Chloe walked out without another word. Boiling, Aphid used his miraculous ladybugs to restore everything Eros had ruined, minus his almost confession, before flinging himself to a nearby flower stall, detransforming, and buying a rose.  

It was weird to buy one so immediately after that akuma attack and without knowing where Marinette was and probably not the first priority, but that had been what his magic had given him, which meant something.

He stared at it as he walked, the lush petals giving off a heady scent.

Was he seriously supposed to tell her how he felt?

“Who’s that for?” 

He jumped, a hand to his chest at the sight of Lady Noir, watching him from a perch halfway up the building. “Geez, do you always sneak up on people?”

He knew the answer to that, but it was different being Adrien and being snuck up on. Especially after what had just happened to him.

“Sorry.” She leapt down, landing without a sound. “I was just curious about the rose.”

“Oh, um.” He twiddled it in his fingers, his confession diving deeper. “Well, I bought it on the off chance if I saw you, actually. For saving me.” 

Her feline eyes blinked. “Really?” 

“It’s not meant to be romantic,” he rushed out. “I know it’s a red rose, but…well, it’s more because someone like Chloe thinks she can force people to love her, or expects it in return, and then there are people like you who get such a bad rap despite being so good.” It felt a bit overboard to call her good when Adrien didn’t know her that well, but he couldn’t help it. “Because you seriously are, Lady Noir.” 

“Oh.” She didn’t seem used to the praise. Aphid seriously had to step up his encouragements. “Thanks?” 

“No really, thank you.” He extended the rose. “You’re my hero.” 

She took it in her thin, clawed fingers, analyzing it as if it might decide to grow a mouth and eat her at any moment. “I’m sure you were probably at that club with someone and that’s why your ex-girlfriend got jealous?” 

He blushed, partly out of shame for dating Chloe and partly because of his feelings for Marinette. “Yeah. Keep it on the downlow, but I was only dating Chloe because our parents forced us to for publicity and because she was blackmailing me.” 

“Blackmailing you?” 

“Yeah. There’s this girl at our school…they don’t get along. And Chloe was always jealous that I seemed to hit if off on the first day of school. And it’s hard to stand up to bullies, so I decided to be her perfect little boyfriend if that meant my friend didn’t have to get harassed all the time or get kicked out of this program she’d been dreaming of her whole life just because Chloe decided to ruin it for her.” 

Lady Noir stayed uncharacteristically quiet, inspecting the rose.  

He glanced at her. “That’s all over now, though. I’m done letting Chloe step all over people.” His heart started racing. “In fact, I need to go find my friend now. I thought maybe she came out here. Do you mind?” 

“I need to get going anyway,” Lady Noir said. “Thanks for the rose.” 

She disappeared into the shadows, but he paid her no mind. He opened his palm, not sure if he’d been wrong about who the rose had been for. Maybe it had been meant for Lady Noir. Maybe she’d needed his thanks tonight, after what Chloe had yelled at her and what Paris thought of her, even still.

Adrien pulled out his phone, deciding that calling Marinette was going to be way easier than scouring the streets for her.

No answer.

He bit his lip. Why had he gone to buy a rose instead of going to look for her? What if she’d been hurt?

“Adrien!”

His eyes found her on the other side of the street, instantly lighting. “Marinette!” 

He ran over, pulling her into a deep hug.

“Oh.” She reciprocated, but barely. “Are you okay?”

“I thought I’d lost you!”

Marinette scoffed. “I’m not your footwork, Pigeon. Don’t worry, I ran as far away as I could in these heels, just like you asked. Then I went back looking for you once I saw the ladybugs doing their magic.”   

Adrien inspected her, looking for any scrapes and instead found a rose clutched in her hand. “Where’d you get that?” 

“Uh, the owner of the club. They were handing out apology type things like this.” She shrugged. “I think it was from one of those giant vases in the hallway and just the easiest way for them to get out of giving away free drinks or something more expensive. Plus considering Chloe had turned into a rose, maybe they wanted to get them out of there so their image wasn’t ruined.” 

“That makes sense.” Though he wished he’d been the one to get her a rose. Maybe it would have left a sour taste in her mouth. So much for always knowing what his lucky charm was for. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah.” She touched his arm. “Are you?” 

The touch, though Marinette’s was nothing like Chloe’s, instantly took him back to that moment. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Her eyes creased. “I wasn’t there for…whatever happened.” 

He started walking. “Everything worked out fine. Lady Noir saved me.”

“But did Chloe do anything?”

“Nope,” he lied. “She talks a big game, of course, but Lady Noir is on top of things, as always. Easy breezy.” 

Marinette looked doubtful. “I know I can be pretty intense, but your wellbeing isn’t something I would ever stick my nose up at or sweep under the rug. You know that, right?”

“There’s nothing to sweep under, don’t worry. It’s all over now.” 

“Well…I did enjoy dancing with you.”

“And I enjoyed dancing with you too.” 

She twirled the rose in her clasped hands. “Before Chloe got akumatized you were going to tell me something, right?”

Of course she’d remember that. His throat closed. “Just that I think you’re an amazing dancer and I know for sure you’ll be able to come up with a perfect routine now.”

“Thanks, Pigeon.”

He tried to keep his smile and voice from wavering as he shoved the last akumatization down as far as it would go in his mind. “Anytime, Slippers.”

Chapter Text

Adrien tossed and turned, trying not to remember Chloe’s hands on him. Trying not to remember comments made online about his body, what people would do to it. Trying not to feel like an insect under a microscope, about to get dissected by anyone who gave even a single thought about him. 

His window slid open. Every muscle froze. He’d already been sweating from the panic of imagining the worst-case scenarios and now it was happening? Was it some crazy fan sneaking in or had Hawk Moth finally found him out?

He started imagining what he was going to use as a weapon before a familiar voice called out, “Adrien?” 

Adrien sat up, blinking at the sight of Lady Noir standing by the windows. “What are you doing here?” 

“I’m sorry to come here without permission. I just know where you live since you’re, well…you.” She hesitated. “I was worried about you.”

But he didn’t mind, since he was Aphid and he knew her. He knew she didn’t have bad intentions. “I’m okay.” 

She stepped into a beam of moonlight, her expression apologetically disbelieving. 

“It sucked,” he said.

And then he broke down.

Normally, Adrien wouldn’t dare hint that he even had emotions to his partner, even when it was clear that he was as human as everyone else. He was the Guardian and always felt the need to hold things together. To be the responsible one. To pretend. But without his mask, the carefully constructed dam he’d been building ever since he his mom had died broke.

He was supposed to be perfect all the time, but he couldn’t be perfect anymore.

Lady Noir sat by him on the bed, not touching him, as if knowing he couldn’t handle it. She grabbed one of his pillows from the couch, handing it to him to squeeze as the tears flowed, mostly silent, as he whispered about how much he hated Chloe, how he couldn’t stand to ever look at her again, how objectified he always felt.

Eventually, the tears ran out, leaving him feeling raw and afraid. What if she said he was stupid, or told him to get over it? What if she didn’t understand? What if he was being a baby about it? Which was stupid when he knew that wasn’t true.

Her luminescent green eyes met his. “I’m going to watch out for you from now on. Not like a stalker,” she promised. “Just a very annoyed, protective friend who doesn’t want you treated like that ever again.” 

He believed her. She rarely talked about it, but most internet searches relating to her brought up a lot of fan art and supposed supporters that took far too many liberties with her. She knew what it was like, as much as he wished she didn’t. “Thanks.” 

She got off the bed and turned back to the windows, readying to jump. 

His breath hitched, not wanting to be alone. “Lady Noir?”

“Yes?”

“Will you stay?” 

She loomed near the windows, like she was an unwanted shadow. “Are you sure you want the company of someone with a reputation like mine?”

“I don’t believe what anyone says about you.” 

She gestured to the sheets. “Does that mean you still want my company in there?”

“As long as you’re fine with it.” He paused. “Can you…lay down with me?”

She crawled into bed with him, a few feet away. A respectful distance. If she knew he was Aphid, she’d be in his arms and he’d have to unglue her. But now, he wished she would curl up into his chest, one of two women he trusted with his body. 

He wished he could tell her who he was.  

“Are you known to take in strays?” she whispered. 

“You’re not a stray.” 

“Not going to declaw me?”

“I wouldn’t dare touch your claws.” 

“Because they’re scary?”

“Because they’re you.” 

He looked away. He was probably being too vulnerable. But he did love Lady Noir. Not romantically, but she was a piece of him that was unexplainably him. It was more than being partners, or being magically bound together with their Miraculous. He couldn’t explain it. It just was.

“I’ve had people touch me before that I didn’t want touching me,” she murmured. 

Adrien rolled to face her, keeping from growling out a response. He knew about social media, and the jerk in the crowd one of their first nights, but this was news.

“I try not to get too close to crowds,” she said. “Men can be…handsy. And I’m dressed in this.” 

“What you’re dressed in shouldn’t affect how they treat you,” Adrien said, voice firm. “Did you tell Aphid?” 

She gave a shaky laugh. “I think he would think I ask for it.” 

“He wouldn’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“He wouldn’t. No one should ever treat you that way, Lady Noir. Ever.”

“And no one should treat you that way either.”

“Tell Aphid next time. Promise me.”

She gave him a grimace before rolling away, probably because asking her to promise was a bit too strong, but he didn’t care. “Fine.”

He wiped his eyes. “People say you’re flirtatious with him, but from my understanding you keep your hands to yourself.”

“He’s…important to me.” 

But what kind of important? “There are rumors that you guys are connected. That whole wish thing with Hawk Moth, needing both Miraculous. Do you guys have some sort of magical connection that makes you have romantic feelings for him?”

She huffed. “No. We’re connected, but it’s not like that. I just like him. He’s so…” Her clawed fingers flitted towards the ceiling. “Effortless.” 

“Perfect?”

“No…he’s not perfect. He hides his emotions. He doesn’t rely on others as much as he should. But he’s undeniably good. He’s so, so good.”

Adrien swallowed his retorts. “Just like you.” 

Lady Noir turned to face him. “Your hair is like his.” Her claws came towards his scalp. “May I, or is that an awful thing to ask after today?” 

It was something he wouldn’t have let her do if he was Aphid. But she wasn’t in love with Adrien Agreste. “Go ahead.”

Her touch was unexpectedly soft. Her breathing slowed, almost reverent. It somehow didn’t make him uncomfortable.  

“I wish he’d love me,” she whispered. “Lately I haven’t felt very important to him.”

He rewound through his memories, trying to figure out how giving her a Miraculous related task translated as thinking of her as unimportant. “Does he make you feel like you’re less of a partner?”

“No. Well, he has before, but not now. It’s just…we don’t spend time together unless it’s saving Paris related. And I understand people being busy, but sometimes I feel like he’s just itching to get away from me. Like he doesn’t even consider me to be a friend.”

Had he really done such a bad job at being her friend? She was the one who had initiated their daily fact at the end of each time they saw each other and, really, he’d only ever begrudgingly participated. He couldn’t even remember the last time she’d asked him to give one fact about herself. He’d never initiated. It was always her.

And that’s not to mention his depressive episode, keeping the Miraculous and being Guardian a secret from her, and the overall lack of care.

He really had failed her. No wonder she hadn’t seemed comfortable with him giving her pajama pants. It was too little, too late. “Maybe he’ll change and do a better job at appreciating you.”

She shrugged.

To keep from kicking himself for being an idiot and to try to focus on something positive, he asked, “What made you fall in love with him?”

Lady Noir exhaled. “Starting out, there was a lot of negative talk about me. They all thought I was a monster, the one causing the attacks, until he spoke up. And even then, people didn’t really listen…and I remember crying on a rooftop one night after someone had said some pretty awful things to me.”

Her hands continued through his hair. “He sat with me and let me cry. He didn’t tell me I was being stupid or overemotional or anything. I just knew that he’d always be by my side, no matter what.” 

Just like tonight with what she’d done for him.

“He will be,” Adrien murmured. Because he would. He remembered that night, too. How angry he had been for her. How his pull to her had been greater than it had ever been. And he’d held her close, let the tears fall, and swore to himself to keep her from crying ever again.  

What had happened to their relationship, that she’d trust him to handle boys mistreating her then, but not now?

She scooted closer to him as his eyes started to drift close. His arms wrapped around her, his heart settling. She kept brushing her fingers through his hair, lulling him closer to dreams. 

“You remind me of him,” she whispered as he drifted to sleep. “You’re good too, Adrien. Whether people admit it or not.” 

                                                                           /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Marinette laid in bed. She'd texted Adrien to skip the early lesson. Last night he'd fallen asleep quicker than she'd expected and it'd been more painful than she'd imagined to leave his arms.

She pressed her fingertips into her sheets, remembering the feel of their bodies mingling in the silence of the night. He’d been raw with her in a way he’d never been before.

She was used to the heat of his skin under her hands as they danced, not the warmth of an embrace. Their bodies were typically in motion, pulling away after flirting ever so briefly with intimacy. But last night in bed, she'd softened against him, finally allowing herself to look at him without any criticism, eager for a closeness that had nothing to do with dance.

And yet dancing had set new steps into motion. Last night, at the club, his hips against hers—

Her face heated. They'd been dancing, as usual. There'd been nothing different about it, besides him actually leading and being creative. All the flutters of her heart could be chalked up to her being impressed that he was finally competent and it showed in his piercing green eyes.

She stuffed a pillow over her head, holding back a scream.

"Good morning, purr-incess."

"Plagg, it is too early for whatever snide thing you're about to say."

"Where's my cheese?"

She pointed down at the usual spot. As if she wasn't going to keep a collection of his cheese down here when his stomach was somehow a hundred times the size of his body.

“What a lovely new addition to your room.”

Marinette looked down from her internal loop of her embarrassment that was playing on repeat to find Plagg smelling her rose. Her face grew hotter. “Please don’t stink it up with your bad breath.”

“It’s super special then, hm?” When she didn’t reply, he said, "I must say, Marinette, you surprised me last night."

"How so?"

"Dancing with Adrien somewhere outside the studio and then, scandal, climbing into his bed?"

"It wasn't what you think. I was Lady Noir. Lady Noir doesn't have a relationship with Adrien Agreste. It was merely part of the job."

He snorted. "I don't think that's ever been in the description. I bet Aphid would be so jealous."

She threw the pillow off her face, lips squirming. It was one thing to keep her entire Marinette life secret from Aphid, but another to not tell him that she'd gone to see Adrien in the dead of night, even if it only had been with good intentions. It really wasn't any of Aphid’s business anyway, especially when it came to what Adrien had been forced to go through. She'd never expected the golden boy to cry before.

"Plagg...do you think it's true that Adrien seriously was trying to protect me from being blackmailed by Chloe?"

Adrien had said he never liked Chloe, but never that Chloe was extorting him and that he was doing it to keep her safe.

"Sure," Plagg said through a mouthful of cheese.

"Such conviction."

"You really have to give that boy a break. He just got harassed by Chloe right in front of you to protect you. I think it's safe to say he's telling the truth."

Marinette sat up, pulling her knees to her chest. "I've been such a jerk."

"Nothing you can do about that now. It's in the past." Plagg zoomed over to her. "But you can start being nice to him now."

"I guess that's true."

"But don't stop calling him Pigeon. And you don't have to be too nice. Besides, I think he secretly likes when you're mean. At least from time to time."

She rubbed her face, suppressing the urge to tell Plagg he was full of it. "Thanks for that spectacular advice."

"I am an all-knowing being."

A narcissistic one that chooses to be ignorant of my sarcasm, Marinette thought as she grabbed her phone, immediately checking the headlines from last night's akuma attack.

Aphid: Showing His True Spots? 

She gritted her teeth, scrolling through it. He'd snapped at Chloe, which had been recorded by some hidden bystander, and witnesses were saying he'd shown up late on purpose because he disliked Chloe. He did of course, but it's not like Aphid would ever be late to an attack unless he was held up by something important.

Dance...Partners?

There were plenty of people speculating if Adrien had broken up with Chloe to be with Marinette. Too many. The only good thing about this was that no one seemed to be accusing Lady Noir of anything. For the most part, saving Adrien Agreste had thrust her into the good graces of Parisians (she had basically saved Paris’s modern version of Jesus), though there were a few jealous girls who didn't seem at all impressed, which was fine by her. It's not like she needed anyone's approval, but it was a weight off her shoulders to know the backlash she'd been facing for so long might dissipate a bit.

I wouldn’t dare touch your claws, Adrien’s murmur repeated in her head, Because they’re you.

At first she’d thought maybe he was just as terrified of her as everyone else was. But then, it occurred to her that he saw who she was.

If only she’d seen him.

Chapter Text

Adrien woke up to find himself in a confusing swirl of emotions. Shame, from the akuma attack that he immediately tried not to dwell on. Embarrassment from dancing with Marinette at the club in the first place, for almost telling her how he felt. Outright terror for what Lady Noir must think of him after his emotional breakdown last night and, most of all, an empty sort of expectation. Hope, because the first thing he’d thought of was Lady Noir, his arm reaching out to pull her against his body this morning while still half asleep, only to find that she’d left.

Emptiness, because she was gone.

And now he had Mariette to think about too. She’d texted him cancelling their morning lesson, something she’d rarely ever done.

He thought he was going to be sick.

"Is she avoiding me?" he murmured to Tikki.

"I doubt it. Last night was hectic and she could probably tell you were lying that nothing had happened between you and Chloe."

His jaw locked. "I didn't want her feeling sorry for me."

"I think she would have been supportive."

"I know. It's just...it's already embarrassing enough that I cried in front of Lady Noir."

His cheeks smarted at the thought of pulling her close, his body aligned with her own. It'd felt so right, holding her. 

He shook his head. The rightness of dancing with Marinette should be what he was thinking about. Marinette was the girl he was pursuing.

And yet...Lady Noir was the one he was honest with. Lady Noir had shown up to check on him. Lady Noir was the one who understood. Lady Noir believed what he said and didn’t act like he was some lazy rich jerk.

And as Aphid he’d been lacking in the encouraging partner and actual good friend department.

"This is a mess," he grumbled, shielding his eyes with his arm.

"I'm sorry." She kissed his cheek. "I'm here if you want to talk about absolutely anything."

"You're a God send, Tikki." He kissed her head. "I guess it's time for school."

Adrien avoided looking at himself in the mirror. It was something he usually did, but today it was so he didn’t have to see the places Chloe had touched.

He grabbed his bag, pausing one last time to look at his unkept bed, his throat bobbing as he thought of cuddling with his cat.

Adrien mentally shook himself and hurried out the door.

                                                                        /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Seeing Adrien the first time after last night was electrifying.

Marinette had been waiting for him. Not in a noticeable way, of course, but she knew what time he typically arrived in the morning and where his first class was and that they happened to pass by one another, her usually pretending not to see him and him making some teasing comment just to rile her up.

This time, there was no missing him.

Marinette had complained about his gait, his poise, his grace so often she should have made a swear jar specifically for her rants, but she took it all back. Adrien knew how to walk. Sure, basically everyone knew how to walk, but Adrien exceeded. His walk was an artform. She didn’t know if it was because he was a model or because of last night, but he may as well have choreographed the whole thing and gotten a perfect score from the judges as flawless as his slightly rugged, somehow still lithe steps were executed.

For once, she couldn’t keep her eyes from him. She stood there as he came towards her, mesmerized by his perfection, trying not to think about how close they’d been last night, desperate to tell him how seen she finally felt by him, how amazing he was, how sorry she was that she hadn’t believed him before.

If he noticed her, he didn’t say anything. He just kept walking his perfect walk, leaving her dazed and confused in his wake. The hair on her arms was standing up, her breathing shallow, as if she’d just jogged down the hallway. She gripped her binder tight to her chest, as if to keep her heart from popping out of her ribcage just because of Adrien’s presence.

What the heck was wrong with her?

The bell rang. Marinette escaped to the bathroom, checking the stalls to make sure they were empty before hissing, “Plagg.”

He rose out of her backpack as she gripped the sink in front of her. “Well, well, well, look who’s all flustered.”

She started pacing. “Something must be wrong with me. There’s no way I’m this worked up over…” She shuddered. “I shouldn’t have stayed with him last night.”

“Maybe you’ve been lying to yourself this whole time,” Plagg said. “You’ve been falling for Adrien ever since you met him.”

She laughed, one quick bark. “That’s ridiculous. There’s no way I could like Adrien.”

“Oh, really?” Plagg hummed, skeptical. “Is that why you haven’t talked about Aphid nearly as much lately?”

“There haven’t been as many akuma attacks, so I haven’t seen him as much.”

“Or why you keep scheduling more dance practices with Adrien despite how much better he’s gotten?”

“The next round is in a matter of days. We need to step it up.”

“You’ve been jealous of Chloe since the very beginning.”

Her hands curled into fists. “I’m not jealous, I just hate her.”

“You kept wondering if Adrien and Chloe had done the gross human things together that I refuse to speak of and last night you almost clawed her head off because she went after your man.”

“He’s not my man.” She hesitated. “He’s not even a man. He’s a pigeon.”

Plagg sighed. “Marinette, I know I’m not an expert on love.” He gestured to his cheese smelling body. “But you find every excuse to be around him. Last night you two were on a date for crying out loud.”

A date? She blinked. Had they called it a date? No. “That wasn’t a date. We specifically called it a not-date.”

“You went dancing at a club.”

“We dance all the time.”

“Adrien Agreste, superstar who should hate you and never want to dance again, asked you to go dancing with him in public.” Plagg jabbed at her nose. “And I watched you pick out the perfect outfit!”

Oh, God. She had actually cared about how she looked. For Adrien, who saw her every single day in leggings, with holes in her shirt, without makeup, without coffee! She’d dressed up for Adrien.

Not to mention that she’d taken extra care going back home, changing into his pajama pants that he’d gifted her, found a vase for the rose Adrien had given her, and positioned it so that when she woke up, she could see it. That is, if she’d slept at home at all considering she’d spent the night in his bed.

Marinette slid down the wall, defeated. It finally clicked. She liked Adrien Agreste.

She didn’t hear anything Plagg said after that. The rest of the school day passed on autopilot. The only time her brain seemed to function was when Adrien was around, as if trying to figure out her feelings would help her brain reboot.

When they had a class together, she watched him. She liked the way he focused while taking notes. She'd forgotten how smart he was. Or maybe she'd just had so many blinders on regarding all his best traits. How had she fooled herself for this long? 

He seemed to sense her staring and turned, his eyebrow coming up inquisitively. She tried not to look guilty, but her shoulders shot up anyway. She tried to give an eyeroll as she jabbed her pencil at the screen to tell him to pay attention, hoping it was a typical response.

You were the one staring, he mouthed.

Her cheeks heated. She hoped he didn’t notice. All her normal bluntness had dissipated, leaving her with a stupid dry mouth and nerves that were starting to erode her sanity.      

To cover her awkwardness up, she wrote a quick note, tossing it to him, Just trying to figure out how to make you presentable for the competition.

He let out an almost inaudible sigh and went back to taking notes. She relaxed, but kept trying to sneak peeks, playing the night before as Marinette over again, still not believing it was a date. He'd asked her to go dancing, something he expressed his dislike of pretty regularly. He'd seemed a bit flustered, but dancing with her seemed to normally make him uncomfortable, at least when it came to learning and her less than kind remarks. But last night was different. 

Wait, Marinette thought, eyes widening, If last night was a date, that meant Adrien asked me on a date.

She stared at his back again, mentally prepared to scream. Sure, she was coming to accept that she liked Adrien, but to believe that he liked her back after everything she’d done to him? There was no way.

But I’d asked him if it was a date or not and he’d said no, she thought, disappointed before she remembered his actual words, I know you're not interested in me.

Did that mean he was interested in her, or not? It was such specific phrasing—

Someone tapped her shoulder. She jumped, almost yelling as she realized it was Adrien.

He leaned back, a judgmental eyebrow raised. She always got that exact expression when she talked about dance in a “tyrannical” way as he called it. “You good, Slippers?”

She forced her eyes not to flutter at the nickname. How had she held back her love of it for so long? “Uh…yes.” It was only then that she realized that she was standing by her locker, on the planet Earth, and that the school day was over. “Can I help you?”

His eyes skimmed her face. She fought the urge to look away, hoping he wasn’t comparing her face to Lady Noir’s as he leaned closed and asked, “Did you figure out what you wanted to do with me?”

"What?" she practically squeaked.

"With the choreo. You were staring at me like you were ready to eat me."

She laughed, way too high pitched and strained. "Never."

He cocked his head. "You okay? Since when are you so scatterbrained?"

"Last night was just...weird," she said, as if that could possibly cover their night. "I do feel like our dancing helped me get clarity on some stuff."

He grinned. "So my amazing skills inspired you?"

Marinette blinked, trying to get her thoughts back on track. "Uh, no comment?"

He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "You know it's true."

His touch was fire. She either needed more or she needed to get as far away as possible to prevent from being burned.

She chose life, poking his cheek as casually as possible as a way to lightly push herself away from him. She expected him to look a bit pleased, but his face had darkened. He was staring off in the distance.

She licked her lips. "About Chloe..."

"What about her?"

His tone was answer enough. This subject wasn’t on the table. Still, she had to ask. "Are you sure you're okay? That nothing happened last night?"

“Absolutely nothing.”

The words were puppets on tight strings. Performing.

"I want to be there for you," she whispered. "I'm sorry I never was before."

"It's all good, Marinette." He started walking away. "Anything to win the competition, right?" 

"No." She jogged to keep up. "You're more important."

He stopped. She almost ran into him. "I'm seriously more important to you?"

She cringed. Even with her newly discovered feelings, maybe that was a stretch. "I really do want you to be okay, and not because of the competition. I...I think I underestimated how much you've gone through with your dad and Chloe and I'm sorry for not listening to your side of things."

He eyed her up and down. "Why the sudden change?"

"You protected me last night." She looked down. "You're a good person and I've been so wrapped up in anger since day one that I haven't allowed myself to see it.

“Adrien, I was completely wrong about you. I should have believed you had good intentions from the start. I shouldn’t have been mean to you when we danced or acted like you were born with a golden spoon in your mouth. I should have been a good friend to you and listened to you and supported you, like you’ve supported me, even when you had no reason to. I’m so, so sorry.”

He worked his jaw for a moment before shrugging. “It’s fine. We’ll do the competition and then you don’t have to deal with all the drama.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“You can get what you want.”

“But—”

“I won’t be able to make it to practice tonight either.” He shifted his backpack and started down the hall. “Something with my father came up.”

Marinette took a step, but stopped. She hadn’t expected to have a perfect apology, but she hadn’t thought Adrien would blow her off like that either. It wasn’t like him. Had she done something wrong?

Chapter Text

Marinette flowed through her choreography, her mind far away from her steps. She had been inspired by dancing with Adrien, but maybe the wrong kind.

She was still whiplashed by her feelings despite rationalizing that having an Adrien-free evening was probably for the best. She needed the space to let her emotions settle, to gain some perspective. And he needed some space from her since she’d been so awful to him for so long.

But maybe she could visit him again tonight as Lady Noir. She did promise she’d check back up on him. Would it be weird if she went so soon? Would he be excited to see her? Would he offer for her to cuddle with him again, to have her back pressed into his well sculpted chest, maybe roll over and sink her face into the crook of his neck and breathe in his for once not sweaty scent?

But what if he didn’t want her to visit?

Either way, she should probably transform now and go check. Clear up that she didn’t leave in the middle of the night to upset him. Make sure he was fine with random, possibly more frequent visits...

A clanging noise caused her to whip around. She wasn’t expecting a scarlet clad hero to be crouched at the window, dusting himself off. “Aphid?”

He straightened, blinking. “Oh.”

She tugged at her clothes, almost wanting to cover herself—or, rather, her thoughts of Adrien. It’s not as if she was cheating on him, the one who kept rejecting her.

It put her in a less than stellar mood. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed somewhere quiet to think and thought that no one would be here this late at night.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I discovered a while ago that the window is always unlocked.”

“So it has nothing to do with dance?”

“I’ve been told I don’t know the first thing about dance.”

Her gaze kept sliding away, embarrassed to keep him in view. He’d never really seemed the dancing type to her, always too focused on saving Paris, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t good at it. 

Marinette faced the mirror, hoping the flustered feeling would go away. “Well, I’m not going to force you.”

“Shocking.” She didn’t exactly know what to make of that. “You’re Marinette Dupain-Cheng, right? The girl who was in charge of Hero’s Day?”

“Yep.”

“Thanks for that, by the way. I was…going through a hard time and you kind of brought me out of a depression.”

“I’m sorry you were going through that.”

She would have been there for him, if he’d let her. He still wasn’t exactly giving her much time or attention lately, as if he thought she wanted space to be responsible to find holders for the other Miraculous and not friendship or anything more from him.

Boys could be so dumb.

“You’re on that new dance show, right?”

“Yep.”

“Here for some late dance practice?”

She stretched, keeping her normal dryness out of her tone. “Attempting to, at least.”

“Where’s your partner?”

“I gave him today off. He’s been through a lot.” Or, really, something had “come up.” Still, she couldn’t complain, with as much as she put him through. “You know that guy from the akuma attack last night that Chloe went after?”

“Adrien Agreste?”

She let her arms fall. “Did Lady Noir tell you any details of what happened to him?”

“I know it was his ex-girlfriend. I don’t know if Lady Noir was there to witness everything that went down.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re dance partners with Adrien, right? Wouldn’t he tell you himself?”

She took a deep breath. “I asked, but I think he’s trying to protect me from it. Or he’s too embarrassed.” She stepped over to the barre, beginning some basic positions. “We didn’t always get along really well and I understand why he wouldn’t talk to me.”

Aphid must have been really bored to listen to her ramble. Sure, it made sense for him to listen to Lady Noir because they were partners, but to listen to her as Marinette?

“Does he smell or something?”

She stepped back, almost stumbling into the barre. “What?”

“I’m trying to figure out if he doesn’t like you or if you don’t like him. You know, the reason you’re not getting along.”

“Oh.” She let her toes trace the ground, doing a few ballonnés as she thought. “Honestly, I think it was all my fault. Our falling out. If I’d only given him a chance…” She stopped moving. “No wonder he doesn’t trust me.”

Aphid towered over her. She hadn’t even noticed that he’d moved. Her backside pressed into the barre, surprised he would give her so little space. Was he trying to give her a “don’t be a jerk to your partner” intervention?

“Do you think you’re trustworthy?” Aphid asked.

“No. Not to Adrien. But I want to be.” She swallowed. “He’s…perfect, honestly. And I’ve been too hard on him for things he can’t control.”

Aphid’s brows contorted. He was so handsome. Every inch of him struck her to the core, perfect, composed. She had no doubt he could be an amazing dancer.

Her heart was stuck in a series of pirouettes, unable to spot, growing dizzier with every new turn. She wanted to lean into him, seek his support, as he always allowed her to do as his lady. She’d always craved to hear him call her that and it was so seldom that he did.

“I danced as a kid,” he murmured, leaning away, giving her some more space. “Classic French move, right?”

The change of subject threw her off, but not enough to stop from spouting dancing facts. “Actually, only about thirty percent of boys in France have ever taken a dance class, and that’s including all forms of dance, not just ballet.”

He snorted. “I guess you would know.”

“Yes, I am a true dance nerd.” She took a deep breath, stepping away from the barre and him. “That’s cool that you danced.”

He’d never told Lady Noir that before, but it did make sense that he’d want to come to a dance studio if he’d liked it as a kid.

“But enough about me. You should kiss and make up with Adrien,” Aphid said.

“I…” Kiss? Adrien? She blushed. “We’re not…”

Aphid took a few steps back, batting his hand at her. “I shouldn’t get involved in your romantic life. I was just passing through.”

“But…”

“You don’t have to tell me if you like him or not. At least you seem to care about him and your actions. Maybe he’ll be able to forgive you.”

This all seemed to be coming out of nowhere. “Thank you?”

Aphid started towards the window.

“Will you dance with me?” she blurted out before she could stop herself. She wanted him to stay.

He turned, an almost pouty frown on his face, a hand coming to his heart, a more dramatic gesture than she was used to. “With me?”

She couldn’t tell if he was trying to make her beg, or if he had some other ulterior motive. It wasn’t like him to tease. She’d practically begged for this sort of behavior from him as Lady Noir and now he’d decided to flirt with a stranger? She decided not to sound desperate. “I need a partner to try some steps for the next round of the competition and since Adrien isn’t here…”

He stretched his arms carelessly. “I don’t know. I was never that good.”

“I can teach you.”

Aphid stood in front of her. “I guess I can spare a few minutes.”

She beamed. “Adrien and I have been working on this routine, but there are some new steps.”

“And this round is themed around me and Lady Noir?”

“I’m not saying what I’ve picked out perfectly suits you both,” she defended hastily. “So please don’t think I’m arrogant enough to know both of you well enough to pick a song.”

“I trust you with it.” She hadn’t been expecting him to trust her, a random civilian. “Can you show me the part he already knows?”

“Sure.”

She was suddenly self-conscious. This song was practically a declaration of her love for him, a yearning for an actual relationship.

Marinette started the music, her body flowing into the song. She tried not to feel naked in front of him as the emotions of the routine washed over her.

She soon forgot Aphid existed as she moved, muscles tight, toes pointed, hair lashing around her face as she kept to the beat. She spoke Adrien’s parts aloud, mostly out of habit. Not that they were always moves so much as commands depending on whatever part of the move he was struggling with at the time.

“And here,” she said, beginning the newest section of the choreography, “I want to add a lift.” She counted out the beats for him, gesturing with her hands, making sure to phrase it for a nondancer. “I basically jump and you catch me bridal style, then you lift me while I’m in a split. Walk around like this,” she demonstrated, “while balancing me as I do my thing, then lower me down facing you. All done in a six count.”

He nodded, envisioning it. “Let’s do it.”

“Awesome.”

“And you’re sure you trust me to lift you?”

“Oh, please.” She almost laughed at how ludicrous the question was. “You’re Aphid. I trust you with everything.”

Well, maybe not everything. Not after he kept secrets about the Miracle Box.

He frowned. She was too busy going through the routine in her head to care, nudging him into place. “Did you want to do it with music or not?”

“Yeah. I want to do the whole routine.”

“The whole routine?” she repeated. “You just saw me do it once.” 

His eyes flashed. A challenge. “I think I can manage.”

Marinette kept from rolling her eyes. “If you say so. Ready?”

“Ready.”

She started the music. Despite not even seeing Adrien’s part, he executed it perfectly. She wasn’t sure if the Miraculous could give their holders the power to be good at just about anything, but that must be what was happening. He was picking up on the routine like he’d danced it a couple hundred times already.

“Like this?” he asked, the personification of grace.

Marinette was beginning to expect he was lying about how experienced he was, but she couldn’t exactly call him out on it. “Exactly, yes.”

He even looked at her at all the right times. He was absolutely nailing the longing expressions. It kept throwing her off guard. Aphid had never looked at her like that. It made it easier to play into her lovesick role, not that it’d ever been hard with Aphid.

Not that she’d had any trouble with her romantic expressions with Adrien lately either.

She hoped Aphid thought her blush was just exertion as they continued through the routine, completely in sync. It was starting to make her nervous about the lift. Surely something had to go wrong.

Marinette got into position, fully committed anyway. “And lift.”

She tucked into his arms, bridal style for a split second before rocketing towards the ceiling. His hold was steady, as were his steps, making it easy for her to keep her balance as she held her split.

He brought her back down. She was featherlight in his hands, not a hint of a wobble. Their eyes met, his smoldering. Hers hesitant. She thought she was done feeling things for Aphid.

The music faded away. Their connection didn’t. It grew. She wondered if he felt it too. That she was his lady. His partner. The one he trusted.

The one he could maybe one day love.

“You’re an amazing dancer,” she murmured.

“Nice to hear that,” he deadpanned.

He pulled away, striding back over to the window.

“Wait. Aphid.” She ran to him. “Did I do something wrong?”

Aphid turned to look at her, breathless in a way she wasn’t used to seeing him. “Do you think Lady Noir really feels like that?”

“What?” she practically squeaked.

“The lyrics. Like she’s after a relationship that isn’t even real.”

Marinette replaced a strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail. “I don’t know.” She took a breath, deciding to be honest. “She doesn’t seem like someone to stay focused on a guy who isn’t interested, though. I doubt any girl wants to do that to themselves. Cats are very adaptable, after all.”

He nodded. “Thanks for your input.”

Was he actually worried about Lady Noir? Something was obviously wrong. “We can talk about whatever it is, if you want. I’m so thankful for everything you do for Paris.”

“I know,” he said, voice low. “Good luck with your competition.”

He climbed out the window, gone.

What was that all about? Marinette knew that she didn’t know who Aphid was without the mask, but to show up to dance with her, perfectly, in a good mood and then to leave in a bad one? Had she said something that rubbed him the wrong way? Did he think maybe she’d just been out to kiss him or something?

She ran a hand along her forehead, then placed her hands on her cheeks, squeezing as if to snap herself out of it. She had enough problems with Adrien right now and needed to stay focused.

“What a life,” Plagg commented from her bag, patting his now full belly. “Can’t you go a day without boy drama?”

“Not when you’re in my life,” Marinette replied.

He harrumphed, his only comeback.

She turned away from the mirror, touching her stomach, memorizing the feel of his hand on it. His eyes on her.

And then she shoved the memory away and danced, shuddering every time she thought of Adrien.

Aphid’s touch wasn’t what she craved anymore.

Chapter Text

Aphid ran a hand through his hair. It'd been a week. Marinette hadn’t said anything negative about him missing the lesson, which wasn’t typical of her. In fact, she’d downright lied to Aphid about how she’d given Adrien time off and had even texted him again the next day to cancel even more sessions. He wasn’t sure if he was pissed or grateful for it, that she hadn’t blamed him for not being there. He guessed she was trying to prove that he really was important to her and he wasn't just her little dancing puppet, but she still made him angry.

He probably didn't have a right to be angry at her, but maybe it had been secretly building since she'd decided she hated him. He'd taken all the abuse in the name of earning forgiveness and, now that he had it, he didn't seem able to take anything more from her. It made him wonder if he even liked her, or should like her, if it took her this long to realize he wasn't a dick.

And Lady Noir had been there the night it had happened, not needing to be told anything to know that he was a good person, making him feel like maybe he did deserve love and to be seen and maybe something more—

“Bonjour,” a familiar cat greeted.

"Lady Noir," Aphid said in a rush as he turned, as if he’d been caught doing something criminal.

Her eyes flicked over him, as if sensing weakness. "You seem surprised to see me at our agreed upon meeting point during our agreed upon time. Why's that?"

"I was lost in thought." He waved it off, knowing it may as well have been a laser pointer for his feline friend. Maybe he shouldn’t be thrilled with her knowing him.

"Mm."

He blinked, looking at her again. She was twirling a string of hair, completely indifferent to his statement. "You're not going to try to worm anything out of me?"

"Birds get the worms, not me."

"Is this some sort of reverse psychology technique?"

She clacked her heels together. "That sounds like more trouble than it's worth."

Aphid stilled, remembering her in his bed. Her confession to loving him, loving Aphid, followed by the fact that she felt unloved by him.

Something he wanted to fix.

"Is there anything you want to do?" he asked.

She stopped fussing with her hair. "You mean like patrol?"

"No. Like...talk.”

Her posture immediately stiffened. “I still haven’t decided on holders for the other Miraculous.”

Was he seriously that harsh with her that all she expected him to talk about was work? Yes, he always put Paris first, but he hadn’t realized how much he’d kept her at arm’s length.

Aphid needed to fix this. “I meant we could talk about whatever. Or have a picnic. Go see a movie."

“Is this a test?”

“No.” He hesitated. “Honestly…I’ve been thinking about our relationship lately and I wanted it to change.”

Lady Noir placed her hands on her hips. "It almost sounds like you're asking me out."

Was he? If he had to think about it, that seriously couldn't be his intention. "No. It's just...I know I push us really hard and I don't know you very well, partly because of the secret identity thing, but also because I keep us too busy."

"In all the wrong ways, yes."

There was that flirtation, even if there wasn't as much enthusiasm behind it. "So, why don't we take a break and do whatever you want? And maybe work on being more than just be coworkers, which is the stupid box I put us in that I would very much love for you to Cataclysm." He grimaced. “Though really, I’m the one who has to destroy it. Not you.”

Her eyes met his, intense. Focused. He swallowed, holding her gaze, not used to the way his heart and lungs were reacting. Remembering. Wanting.

She prowled forward, measuring his reaction to every finite movement. Waiting for him to disapprove, to turn up his nose as he normally did.

“Can I…?” she asked, her voice professional.

He wasn’t sure what she meant, but he nodded, trusting her not to do anything too extreme.

Her hands skimmed his body. Her touch was familiar. Her fingers ran along his sides and up his chest. "What if I wanted something you don't want to give me?"

His eyes fell to her lips. “What exactly did you want?”

If it was a kiss, it was too soon. He wasn’t sure what he wanted. His feelings for her were complicated now, just like his feelings for Marinette were. And yet, it didn’t seem like the worst idea, to kiss his partner. It seemed kind of wonderful, actually, to think of being with her. They were already fated to be together. This just added to their dynamic.

He didn’t have to hide the fact that he was a super hero from her and he could talk about things he couldn’t talk about with anyone else. And, unbeknownst to her, she understood him without the mask better than even Marinette seemed to. Marinette, who’d taken way too long to really see him.

He wouldn’t have to hide his identity from Lady Noir forever, not after they caught Hawk Moth. It would be a relief to be with her, the same kind of feeling as finishing a long, tedious project and realizing you never had to worry about it again. The last piece of the puzzle triumphantly added—all there was left to do was stand back and admire.

He wanted to admire.

Her voice drew him out of his thoughts. "I'm not in love with you." She took a deep breath. "You've been my rock ever since I met you. You've been patient, encouraging, and kind to me when no one else was. But I've come to realize that while I am your partner and you do need a Lady Noir, you don't need or want me to feel the way I've felt."

The plan he’d begun forming in his mind for their potentially romantic relationship crumpled and ripped into a thousand little pieces, slowly but surely, his emotions withering with it.

Where had this come from so suddenly? The other night she said she loved him. She'd told him, to his face, whether she knew it or not. "Did you ever love me?"

"Yes." She laughed. A soft, kind thing. "But lately I've realized there are other people out there who have my heart and that I might even have theirs."

His hand came to his chest automatically, surprised he felt a pulse. 

“Don't worry, I won't be bothering you anymore with my silly flirtations," she said. "I have someone else to say scandalous things to now." 

But that was their thing. Sure, he got annoyed, but for her to stop cold turkey on him like that? What would their relationship even be without her sexy innuendos?

His throat closed. He almost wanted to ask who it was—as if that was something he could ask. And what would that even look like, for him to break down over her now? If she learned he was developing feelings for her, did that mean she’d put her new feelings on hold? Would that be best for her? More than anything, he wanted her to be happy.

“I’m glad for you,” he heard himself saying, as if he was having an out of body experience. “You deserve someone who can love the real you. All of you.”

Her expression flickered, making him wonder if there was more to her story than just that. But he couldn’t ask. Not with their identities at stake.

“Best of luck, my lady,” he murmured, lifting her hand to his mouth, brushing a delicate kiss over her knuckles.

He left quickly, finding a building far, far away to be alone to wallow in his own misery.

                                                                       /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Telling Aphid that she didn’t love him had been kind of liberating. It was a relief to know Lady Noir wouldn’t be burdening him with her feelings. It was still a bit hard to imagine that her love for him might as well be a cloud of gnats swarming him like an irritating hellscape, but now she could be professional, the way he probably always envisioned them being.

And then maybe they could have more of a friendship. Maybe.

The only thing really worrying her now was Adrien. He was clearly in another slump and wouldn’t talk to her about it, no matter what she tried. After her first wave of questions regarding the akumatized night with Chloe going unanswered, she’d decided to pretend it hadn’t happened, as if maybe he’d move past it. She’d been there for him as Lady Noir and maybe that was all she could do.

But his bad mood didn’t go away. She traced it back to apologizing to him for being so unforgiving for so long. He deserved to be angry, but she wished there was something she could do to fix it.

Lady Noir helped the latest akumatized victim to their feet as Aphid restored Paris to its former glory. Her mind was still on how Adrien must have taken her leaving practice early to go do this. It wasn’t going to put her back in his good graces. But what would?

She stayed on auto-pilot as she thought through different plans on cheering Adrien up when Aphid said, “I was wondering if we could hang out.”

“Hold that thought.” She disappeared behind the chimney, detransforming and feeding Plagg. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He detransformed on the opposite side. “We should have been spending more time together. We did that at the very beginning, trying to get to know each other.”

She leaned her head up against the wall. “You mean when we fought each other for combat training? Was that your idea of our bonding time?”

“Uh…”

“Is this how annoying I am when I do it?” she muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.” No wonder Adrien said she was anti-fun. “Combat training doesn’t count.”

“I figured.” He transformed back, stepping away from his hiding spot. “Which proves my point that you’ve been the one trying to get us to be an actual team and I’ve just been busy panicking over Paris.”

She dawned her suit again, stepping out of her shadow. “Which is kind of our job.”

“Maybe, but we’re supposed to do everything together. Good and bad. So…I was wondering if we could do more than just a daily fact. Like actually catch up with each other on what’s going on in our lives, as much as we can without giving away our secret identities.”

She raised a brow. “You really want to do that?”

“Yes. You’re my partner and I want to really know you, as much as I’m allowed.”

This would have been nice from day one. Still, when she saw his expression, she knew he meant it. Aphid was a deep thinker and not one for small talk, so she knew he meant it if he was offering.

Not that she was going to make it easy on him. “What did you want to know?”

He gestured towards the side of the roof, sitting down. “Besides me being a not-so-great partner, what’s got you looking so down?”

Could he really tell? She bit the inside of her lip as she took a seat next to him. She couldn’t talk about Adrien to anyone else without them knowing who she meant, but with Aphid she could.

Besides, she was dying to talk about it to someone. “I have this friend who’s been mad at me. I did something a long time ago that consistently hurt their feelings, thinking I was in the right, and it wasn’t until lately that I realized I was being a jerk and apologized for it. Before apologizing, we were actually getting closer, but after the apology…they pulled away and won’t talk to me.”

“And I’m guessing your apology was sincere and not sarcastic or anything?”

“That was my intention, at least. I can’t exactly read their mind to know how it sounded to them, but from the looks of things, I may as well have offended them.”

Aphid took a deep breath. “Maybe they’d moved on because they felt like they had to and then bringing it up kind of stirred all the dust up again?”

“But I needed to apologize. I’d been in the wrong.”

“I’m not saying you weren’t, not that I have any context.” He looked down. “It’s just…if it had been a while since whatever you’d needed to apologize had happened, getting an apology out of the blue is probably going to take them time to process. And they might have a hard time trusting you right now.”

She entwined her clawed fingers, staring down at her ring. “I don’t want to leave them in a bad place. I think they are, for whatever reasons, but they won’t talk to me and I don’t know what to do to make it up to them.”

“And I can’t know them, so I’m not sure if I can give you any advice.” His foot gently nudged hers. “That is, if that’s what you were asking for.”

“I have no idea what I’m asking for.” She flopped onto her back, staring up at the sky. “My life is a mess right now.”

He laid down next to her. “Maybe we can be messes together?”

She couldn’t help but smile. “I didn’t say I was a mess, Lady Cow. Just that my life was.”

“In all honesty, I’m very much a mess.”

She turned to face him, softening. “I like when you admit you’re not perfect.”

Despite the flawlessness of his face, it was rugged with exhaustion. “I have to be perfect.”

“Maybe to the world, but not to me.”

He repositioned to his side, facing her. “I hope your friend comes around. Just keep trying.”

“Thanks.” She hesitated, but kissed his cheek. “I really do want more time with you like this.”

“As you wish.”

The words struck as something familiar despite the melancholy dissonance. As if he’d said them to her before.

“This is going to sound bad,” he muttered, rolling to his back again to face the sky.

“What?”

“Do you ever…” He took a breath, then stood up. “Never mind.”

Her curiosity perked up. “You can’t say something like that and take it back.”

“I definitely can. I just did.”

She stood up, following him. “Come on, Aphid. It’s me.”

“I know. That’s what I’m worried about.”

She gripped her baton, itching to smack him with it. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s a secret identity thing,” he said. “If I tell you this thing, what if you…”

She raised a brow.

“What if I know you without the mask?” he finally asked, his voice cracking. “Do you think about that?”

For some reason, it sounded like a very sensitive subject for him. “Honestly, I don’t. Otherwise, I might spend way too much time on it and that seems pretty pointless to always be wondering if I’m talking to you or not.”

“Do you seriously think it’d be that hard to know if it was me?”

He stood in front of her, arms outstretched, as if begging her to imagine him without the mask. But she couldn’t. The magic of their suits somehow distorted reality, shrouding his features and changing them to look like someone else. It didn’t affect her as much given she was his yin-yang pair, but that didn’t mean he’d look exactly the same to her without his mask.        

But she decided to focus on something besides physical appearance. “I act a lot differently without my suit.”

“You do?”

She picked up her tail, running her fingers along the edge. “Do you really think I’d be doing this in public?”

“I meant personality wise.”

“Are you saying you act exactly like this as regular you?” She lowered her voice to mimic him in a school setting. “Let’s all take responsibility and be ethical. No running in the halls or cheating on homework.”

His mouth quirked up. “Is that what I sound like?”

“You didn’t know?” She got out her baton again, recording her impression. “I’m Aphid and I don’t trust social media because it rots your brain.” She paused. “You’re not secretly old, are you?”

“First off, I don’t sound like that.” He grabbed her baton, holding it as high as he could so she couldn’t reach it. “And secondly, no, I’m not secretly old. I’m in high school.”

“But you’re so mature for your age,” she teased, reaching for her baton back. “Are you sure?”

“What, you don’t want to be a cougar, kitty?”

“Who says I’m older?” Her fingers traced his chin. “Your jawline looks more like it belongs to a twenty-something actor in a high school movie.”

He snorted. “Doesn’t change my age. You going to keep invading my personal bubble?”

“Give my baton back and then I’ll stop trying to use you like a cat tower.”

She kept reaching and couldn’t help but remember Adrien holding her ballet slipper hostage. Her cheeks reddened.

“I wish I’d gotten to know you sooner.”

Their faces were close. It’d been a while since he’d allowed this sort of proximity.

She made a small lithe jump, snatching her baton back, putting some space between them. “It’s your loss.”

“Yeah, it was.” He paused. “You kind of scared me, back when you started being all…over the top.”

“Because you thought I’d be over the top for you?”

“You were over the top about me.” He stared at his hands. “As regular me, I’ve…been through some things that make me really skeptical that people have good intentions around me. Regarding anything, really.”

So this whole time he’d been keeping her at arm’s length because she’d been accidentally traumatizing him. Great. “Why didn’t you tell me that what I was doing was too much?”

“We talked about it, remember? I asked why you were doing it and you basically said you can act how you want, which is true. And now I know you were being so over the top to protect me, but when it was just the two of us alone…” He looked at her. “I don’t need all that. You don’t have to try with me.”

It’s not like she’d ever felt the need to try, but she did enjoy being flirty for once. She’d never wanted to be like that as Marinette before. Everyone knew her as this rigid, uptight dancer, so it’d been nice to finally try to let loose. “What if that is me, even a little bit?”

“You can tease me, but I don’t think being seductive is necessarily a personality trait, my lady.” He took a breath. “Besides, you sounded like you had someone else to flirt with. So I guess you can flirt with him.”

It was laughable to think about flirting with Adrien when they were back to not really talking. And even if they were talking, she suspected he wouldn’t want that sort of attention from her.

Aphid rubbed his neck. “I’m burying my own grave here, but that wasn’t my original question. It’s just I feel I can’t ask the original question because if I do know you, then you’d know it was me.”

“I’m super offended that you’d badmouth me behind my back to me.” She grinned at his sour expression at how complicated her sentence had been, then replied, “I get it. I’m not upset. It’s just kind of funny that you think out of all the people in Paris that you think we could possibly know each other without the masks.”

“It’s too risky.”

“That’s the Aphid we all know and love.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Sounds like a very juicy question, though.”

“Maybe one day. Without Hawk Moth.”

She’d hold him to that.

Chapter Text

Being around Marinette still filled Adrien with dread. He wasn’t sure what he felt for her. Everything was muddled together in his heart, which felt like it’d been stomped on and he was too scared to take it out and see what remained. Yes, he still went to their practices and he was pretty civil with her, but despite everything she was doing to try to make things right, he just wasn’t ready yet.

Spending time with Lady Noir was repairing that, somehow. Yes, he was crushed by her liking someone else, but he breathed a lot easier when she was around, so he spent as much time as possible by her side.

“Every time there’s a possibility for me to be with someone, I end up ruining it,” he ended up blurting out one night on their rooftop.

Of course, she probably had no idea she was the girl he’d lost his chance with.

“How?”

He put a hand on his chest. “You may have noticed I kind of have a rigid commanding officer vibe going on.”

“Super sexy,” she deadpanned.

He rolled his eyes. A lot of girls would actually think so. “And I don’t think it’s a problem to be responsible for things, but I kind of let that ruin my own happiness.”

“So that happens to your relationship with plenty of other girls you know, then?” She blinked. “Is it women you’re attracted to?”

And cats, apparently. “Yes, just women. And no, not plenty of other girls. I’m…not like that.”

“Considering your rigid commanding officer vibe, as you called it, I would think not.” She crossed her legs. “And I guess you’re pretty tired of always having to please others instead of yourself?”

“It’s more like a moral obligation—don’t groan like that.”

“You sound so self-righteous, but I know you mean it. That’s what’s so sad.” She stopped tilting her head back from her dramatic outburst. “Look, whatever it is you’re doing in your personal life, it really can’t be a life and death thing that results in some convoluted impossibility of you being without this girl you like.”

He thought of a somewhat condemning question. He pinched his lips shut.

“You’re incredibly cute when you’re thinking,” Lady Noir complimented, resting her hand on her fist.

He had to force himself not to bring his hands to his face. “I have an awkward question.”

“Is it a sex question?”

His answer came out louder than he meant it to. “No!”

For someone who claimed she wasn’t going to flirt with him anymore, she sure said some scandalous things.

She sighed. “That’s a shame.”

“Have you…?” He shut his mouth.

“Have I what?”

“That wasn’t the question I was going to ask.” Which felt like she was manipulating him into asking the less embarrassing question by default. “Have you ever liked two people at the same time?”

Lady Noir frowned. “Is this relevant?”

“We’re getting to know each other.”

She stretched in a way that positioned herself closer to him, as if closeness would help her uncover all his secrets. “It seems very relevant.”

“You’re being very hard to get to know,” he muttered.

“Fine. Yes, I’ve liked two people at the same time.” She pointed a clawed finger at him. “And no, I have not been with two people at the same time, or else that would probably be on the grounds of cheating unless it was an agreed upon casual thing, which I’ve never done.”

“Have you had a boyfriend before?”

“No.” At his shocked expression, she said, “I told you. I’m a lot different as myself.”

He gestured to her. “Then who is this?”

She hugged herself. “I’m not really sure.”

He watched the sunset. “I don’t know who I am either, my lady. As regular me, I’m forced to be what everyone expects me to be, so I do the same as Aphid.”

“And around me?”

“Around you…” He eyed her up and down, admiring her steadiness. “I feel most like myself now. Whoever that is.”

“Have you liked two people at the same time?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he admitted. Because yes, he now liked Lady Noir, but that didn’t mean his feelings for Marinette had completely disappeared. “And it feels wrong. And I’m not dating anyone either, but how can anyone’s feelings be real for two people if they can’t choose?”

If only they were the same person, Aphid thought, glancing at Lady Noir. He’d never thought about the possibility of her being Marinette before. They were completely different. Marinette could never be this laid back and he couldn’t imagine her spending so much time doing something other than dancing.

I told you. I’m a lot different as myself.

“I don’t know. I’m struggling through that too. Or was.” She cringed, as if there was a lot more to the story. Or maybe because it was obvious that he was one of the people she’d loved. “Is it really impossible to be with someone who will make you happy, Aphid?”

He wasn’t ready to open himself up to Marinette again, especially not in a romantic way. He needed to trust her with his heart again.

“You’re going to need to get over your moral obligation to…whatever it is in your normal life.”

“And if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

“You’ll find someone.”

He didn’t doubt that, but he couldn’t help but wish it was easier.

                                                                             /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Lady Noir loved spending time with Aphid. They were actually having heart to heart talks, which was something she’d never been able to have with anyone else. Yes, they had to be vague, but at the same time, it was nice to know she had permission to talk about something without giving every little detail.

They were on the same page about things and it was nice to have someone not only listen to her, but that also opened up about himself. And yes, her little daily fact game was fun, but it was so much better to hear his guffaw at her mention of him asking a sex question. He’d looked so flustered. It’d been adorable.

She wished she could have that with Adrien.

“You’re not falling back in love with him, are you?” Plagg had demanded the second they were home that night.

“Of course not. He doesn’t think of me that way.”

“But things with Adrien aren’t exactly going well.”

“So?”

“I can sniff you out like a piece of Vieux-Boulogne.”

“That’s literally the smelliest cheese in the world.”

He darted in front of her face. “I said what I said.”

“We’re friends,” she said dismissively.

And that was the end of it.

The next time she saw Adrien at the studio, he actually came up to her and looked her in the eye, something he hadn’t done in days.

“I’m sorry I’ve been…” Adrien didn’t really fill in the words. “It’s been a rough week or so.”

“You don’t have to forgive me,” Marinette rushed. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I—”

He shook his head, cutting her off. “It’s seriously fine, Marinette. It hit all at once and I want to get over it. I don’t want it coming between us anymore and I want us to be able to focus on round two. And maybe as time goes on it’ll be easier for me, but right now can you accept I’m still processing?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll try my best to talk to you more and not shut you out, but since I’m still not feeling the best, it’s kind of hard.”

“I understand. I don’t want to push you.”

“Unless it’s my body you’re pushing to the limits.”

She squirmed. “Well…”

“It’s your job.” He set down his bag. “Time to get to work?”

“If you don’t mind.”

He raised an eyebrow at her lackluster, wishy-washy answer. It wasn’t like her. But she’d just promised she wouldn’t push him.

They stretched and started practicing their routine. The dress rehearsal on the actual stage was tomorrow and the competition was the day after that. She’d gotten the whole routine choreographed and Adrien knew the whole thing now, but they were still struggling with emotionally connecting, which was a bit more frustrating given she knew from their time at the club that they could sync so well that tech companies should be taking notes.

But their current lack of harmony was her fault, given how she hadn’t trusted him since the beginning.

When they ended the routine for the fifth time, she asked, “Can I do anything to help?”

His hands came off her as quick as possible. “You can’t force emotions, Marinette.”

“I know. I’m not trying to do that, it’s just…if practicing the dancing isn’t helping, I thought maybe we could practice being friends?”

“Do you wear the pajama pants I got you?”

“What?”

“The pajama pants. The Lady Noir ones.”

Her pajama pant dilemma had been one of Plagg’s favorite subjects of conversation. She was keener on wearing Aphid’s pajama pants lately, but hadn’t wanted to hear some snide remarks from her kwami about how her feelings were growing for Aphid again, so she’d stuck with the Lady Noir pair, because at least that way she could pretend she was wearing them because she was Lady Noir, not because she felt anything for Adrien.

“Yes,” she answered.

He walked towards her, daring. “So if we left practice now, a day before dress rehearsal, to watch a movie in pajamas at your place, you wouldn’t panic?”

She lifted her chin. “No. In fact, I’d say we should watch your mom’s favorite, since we never got to.”

His face softened for the first time in so long. She let out a long, relieved breath.

Her phone blared. An akuma alert.

The absolute worse timing.

“I’m so sorry, Adrien, but I forgot my parents wanted me home to help with a cake order,” she lied.

“Yeah. I have a photoshoot that my dad will be thrilled I showed up early to. Guess we’ll have to raincheck.

They both started rushing out the doors. It always felt very silly to her, sprinting out into the chaos of an akuma attack. If she was at school when it happened, Alya or whoever was closest to her would scream at her for being reckless, but Adrien never questioned her sanity.

So she did him the favor of not questioning his. After all, things always ended up fine in the end with Aphid and Lady Noir to save the day.

She transformed, meeting Aphid on the battle field, both of them making quick work of the pizza wielding villain.

“Hi.” She grinned at Aphid once all was said and done.

“Hi,” he greeted, a smile she didn’t recognize spreading across his face.

As the chaos around them came to a tangible halt, a crowd started forming.

“Aphid! Aphid!”

“I guess we have a few minutes,” Aphid murmured to her, a first. He wasn’t one to stick around for interviews. Granted, over the past few days she’d learned a lot about him that she hadn’t known before.

It was still really, really weird.

“What makes her so special?” Lady Noir whispered to him.

He shrugged. She doubted Aphid recognized her, but Lady Noir knew she was one of the hostesses from the show, complete with a giant camera crew. She could only guess where this was leading.

The hostess was breathless as she introduced herself. “Thank you so much for your time, both of you. Can you tell us if you’ve been watching Sensational?”

“I’ve seen it,” Aphid said.

Lady Noir’s ears perked up. He’d seen some of it? “As have I.”

“And you’re aware that this next round will be focused on a tribute to our favorite heroes, none other than yourselves?”

“I heard that, yeah,” Aphid said, Lady Noir nodding. “It’s an honor to be chosen as the theme.”

“They should really consider renaming the show Miraculous if they really wanted to be on theme,” Lady Noir joked. It wasn’t her best work, but the hostess gave a polite laugh anyway.

“I was wondering if we could have the honor of the two of you coming to our show for the second round as our special guests.”

“I can’t make it,” Aphid immediately said.

Her smile faltered. “We didn’t even say when it was.”

Lady Noir tried not to snicker at his attempt to mask his panic. She doubted anyone else saw it, but she did. “Everyone in Paris knows when round two is premiering. Sensational is the hottest show of the year.”

The hostess’s hopeful eyes turned to her. “Lady Noir?”

She hid her flinch. “I’m sorry, but I’ll also be unavailable that night. And how could I ever show up without my partner?”

“Neither of you can come for even a few minutes?”

Now they were both rambling excuses.

“I have a cat,” Lady Noir lied. Or, well, was it really a lie if she was the cat in question?

“I have a cat,” Aphid emphasized, pointing to Lady Noir.

The way he said it was like she was the neediest being on the planet. By the look he was giving her, he wanted to say that too, but didn’t want it interpreted the wrong way. 

“Does that mean you two will be together?”

So much for his clear attempt to avoid that very line of questioning. “No.”

“Nope,” Lady Noir agreed, like the good partner she was.

“Absolutely not together.”

“I could do better,” Lady Noir sniffed.

Aphid turned to her, ready to retort, but she gave him the smuggest look she could.

He soured, crossing his arms. “The point is, we’re both busy that night and can’t make it.”

Lady Noir wrapped her hands around his arm and crooned. “He’s busy pining for me.”

He shook her off, muttering to her. “Don’t give them any ideas.”

She smirked, unable to help herself.

The hostess’s mouth thinned, but didn’t push it. “Who are you two rooting for when it comes to the competition?”

Was it such a terrible thing to promote herself, or was that considered unethical?

“I like Marinette,” Aphid said before she could decide. “Not just because of Heroes Day, but because she’s a really talented dancer who clearly knows her stuff.”

Lady Noir kept very still. “You think so?”

“Yeah, of course. She’s amazing.”

She tried not to stare at him, unable to help herself. He actually liked her dancing?

“Lady Noir, do you have any preferences?”

She debated what to say, going for a way to get Aphid react. “Adrien Agreste seems like a quick learner. Who would have thought someone with such little athletic background related to dance would be able to pull off the choreography in round one?”

“You think he’s that great?” Aphid asked, eyebrow raised.

She shrugged. “He’s probably better at dancing than you.”

“That brings up a good question! Do you two ever dance?”

“No,” they said at the same time, with Lady Noir changing the subject back to herself without the mask. “I’m sure Adrien and Marinette will do something a bit unexpected.” She blinked slowly at her partner, smiling. “Don’t you, Aphid?”

He returned it. “So long as it makes you happy, I’m happy.”

She was most definitely happy.

“We better get going,” Aphid said as his earrings started flashing. “Enjoy the competition.”

They escaped without another word, seeking solitude along a rooftop very far away.

Lady Noir hid as she detransformed, feeding Plagg. “You think that highly of Marinette?”

She heard him shift behind a wall. “Sure. She’s good at what she does. And you think Adrien is pretty great?”

“As a beginner, he’s not terrible.”

Aphid snorted. “I thought you didn’t have any dance experience.”

“Marinette is definitely superior.”

“Duh. She’s a professional. He’s just a model.”

“He has great work ethic.”

“Does he?”

She was glad she had worked with him during the modeling shoot, something Aphid knew about, to be able to know without putting her identity in jeopardy. “Yes.”

“I wouldn’t guess you’d defend someone who took off their shirt in front of you.”

She crossed her arms, a bit annoyed. “With as often as I make vulgar comments, you think I’m against it?”

“You don’t like people being objectified.” He reappeared with his mask, his back turned to her. “I’m hoping he doesn’t objectify you.”

“I highly doubt he does. He didn’t when I met him in person, at least.” She appeared by his side. “I didn’t know you follow Sensational so closely.”

“It comes up in conversation a lot. I don’t really watch it.”

Her shoulders sagged at his indifference.

“I do want Marinette to win, though.”

The way he said her name sent tingles up her back. He said it with such familiarity that she couldn’t help but wonder if there was something she didn’t know.

“Can you tell me something about you as a kid?” Aphid asked.

She jolted from her thoughts. “Really?”

Despite them having talked so much in the last few days, it still surprised her every time it happened. “Yes.”

She should probably get back to being Marinette and see if she could still spend some time with Adrien, but if he had a photoshoot…

Lady Noir smiled before telling a story about going to Disneyland Paris with her parents, delighted by the warmth of his eyes every time she caught him looking at her, interacting and not rushing away.

Chapter Text

You’d think Lady Noir would be able to win a competition about herself, Marinette thought, annoyed as the feedback started coming in from the judges about the first dance pair. They’d chosen a song that absolutely didn’t match Lady Noir and Aphid at all.

Granted, it was a dance competition and there weren’t bonus points for perfectly encapsulating Paris’s favorite couple (even if they weren’t a couple), but it still wouldn’t hurt their chances of winning.

There were six pairs now and this round would put them down to three. Adrien had stayed by her side all day for photoshoots, interviews, warm-ups, and make-up. She ended up hovering near him for moral support. He had the best encouraging speeches and always seemed to know when she needed a hand on her back or fingers touching her own, even ever so briefly.

It was definitely better than the first round when they’d been at odds. Not that they were on the best terms since her apology, with him “processing” still, but at least he was talking to her again.

She’d been avoiding Lila, not wanting to give her the time of day to spread more fake rumors about her partner or try to plant seeds of doubt in her head about absolutely anything, a difficult task when they were constantly back to back with photoshoots, interviews, and everything else. Which had been terrible because, as usual, Lila had won over the interviewers with made up stories about how Lady Noir had saved her.

“She told me how important it was for women to dress how they please and to be unapologetically themselves.” She wiped fake tears from her eyes. “I hope XY and I can really showcase how important it is to be free, not only of Hawk Moth, but of all the naysayers in the world who try to hold us back from the love in our hearts.”

Absolutely, one hundred percent false.

After they got changed, Marinette started lacing up her slippers, unable to hold back the pre-show nerves anymore.

“You still say I don’t look silly?” Adrien asked.

She looked up from her feet, finding his Westley-like ensemble. “I promise you don’t. You’ll be the only thing anyone can talk about tonight.”

“I don’t know,” he eyed her scarlet polka dotted tutu, “you kind of have me beat.”

Marinette met his eyes. The words hadn’t exactly sounded flirtatious, but the look he was giving her…

She looked away, annoyed at the first thing her eyes caught on as a distraction. Lila walked out of the changing room wearing the shortest black leather skirt Marinette had ever seen, along with a black top, black leather jacket, and absolutely stunning black makeup sparkling in the shape of a mask around her eyes. She must have been going for a punk rock look with her knee-high black boots, though the cat ears threw it a bit off to give her the perfect combination of sexy and cute.

Marinette’s hands formed into fists at her side. She turned her head, hoping Lila wouldn’t see her reaction.

When she was gone, Adrien let out a low whistle.

“Don’t do that,” she chastised.

“You know I didn’t whistle because I found her attractive. I don’t like her, but really, you kind of have to wonder if Lady Noir would pick out something similar to wear to this.”

She definitely wouldn’t. “She looks like she walked into an American Halloween store and picked out the skimpiest thing she could find. Which I wouldn’t care about since it’s her own body and she can do what she wants, but it’s another thing to wear that as if wearing so little is symbolic of Lady Noir.”

“No offense, Marinette, but you’re in a tutu and showing quite a bit of skin.”

She put a hand on her pretty exposed chest. “This is what ballerinas wear. I’m not wearing it because I’m in love with showing anything.”

“I know, Slippers,” he murmured. “We’re on the same team.”

She took a deep breath. “Sorry. She gets me riled up.”

“Want to watch them?”

She bit the inside of her cheek. Normally, she didn’t like watching her competition ahead of her just in case she got too in her head about it, but she was curious about everyone’s Aphid and Lady Noir routines. “All right.”       

They walked over to one of the screens backstage that showcased what was happening on stage, watching as Lila and XY got into position.

One of the hosts exclaimed, “Can you believe it? XY has produced this song in honor of Aphid and Lady Noir and we’re the first ones who get to hear it!”

This was news. An electric beat, XY’s typical genre of choice, started up, and the song began playing,

“We’re staying up all night

Gonna feel all right

You and I, babe

Without our masks

Grinding hours by day

Let’s make it up with play

Causin’ me such strain

But you’re up to the task.”

Marinette tried her best not to cringe at the lyrics. She could understand why someone would at least think this song would match Lady Noir, but Aphid?

And really, this was the best XY could do?

“This is the literal worst,” Adrien muttered.

“Even Lady Noir would think this is trash,” Marinette said.

Adrien was doing his best not to ruin his makeup next to her, clearly wanting to rub his face. The dancing was pretty sexual, not that Marinette minded that so much as insinuating that whenever Aphid and Lady Noir were alone, all they did was have sex.

They continued listening as the song very plainly talked about finding the perfect spot.

“Ew!” Marinette shuddered, flinging her arms out to get rid of the cooties. “Nope. No.”

Adrien threw a hand out, pointing haphazardly at the screen. “This doesn’t accurately depict their relationship at all!”

“Not to mention it’s downright gross. Aren’t Lady Noir and Aphid teenagers, presumably? And to write a song about teens that aren’t people you know…”

It seemed pretty messed up.

“What about XY and Lila is making people go crazy like this?”

Because the crowd was eating it up. Why the heck were they eating it up?!

Marinette faced him. “I told you a romantic song would be best.”

“That’s not romantic, it’s just some sex fantasy.” He pointed to XY twerking, which for some reason the crowd loved. “And he’s dressed like—” He paused, shaking his head. “This is awful. Aphid would never do that.”

“Even if Lady Noir begged him!”

“Which she wouldn’t.”

“I don’t know, she likes embarrassing him on social media.”

He soured. “Still. He wouldn’t do it.”

Their routine finished up, the crowd going wild.

Marinette kind of felt like kicking something, but she wasn’t going to dare ruin her slippers.

As if he could read her thoughts, Adrien said, “Don’t worry, your song kicks their song’s incredibly promiscuous butt.”

“What if it’s too slow?” She started pacing. “It’s too slow. Slow songs are like bleeding to death.”

“Nope. It’s freaking awesome.” He grabbed her shoulders. “We seriously are depicting Aphid and Lady Noir well.”

“Are we?” She panicked. “What if we’re not? Sure, I feel like Lady Noir matches this song, but what if Aphid hates it? I saw the interview where he said he was rooting for me. What if he hates it?”

“Believe me, he’s not going to hate it. He’d hate that.” He pointed out towards the stage, where XY and Lila were for some reason getting very good reviews. “Sure, they have bravado and all the things society begs for, but we have what matters.”

“My exposed chest and your hotness?”

He found her hands, squeezing them tight. “We’re real.”

She frowned, trying to avoid spiraling into despair. She didn’t feel real. She constantly hid her emotions and didn’t say how she really felt. She held back so often, or pushed herself to be someone she wasn’t to appease the world.

His words broke through her pity party. “We’ve got this. I believe in you, Marinette. I believe in us.”

She took a deep breath. He was right. They’d done as much as they could possibly do to arrive in this moment. Without thinking of anyone else in the competition, she knew they’d made the best choices and worked their hardest and that was all that matters. “You’re right. Thank you.”

Adrien gave her hands one last squeeze before dropping them.

She couldn’t help but feel naked without his touch. “I’m going to the restroom and to grab our masks, then we’re on after this next couple,” Marinette said. “I’ll be right back.”

Adrien nodded, looking preoccupied with some other important thought as he watched the stage.

She was careful with the handcrafted masks as she headed back, hoping they’d stay on their faces as well as they had during their dress rehearsal.

Arguing caught her attention. She looked up from the masks to find none other than Chloe Bourgeois talking to her partner. Chloe’s hand kept coming to Adrien’s arm, which he kept trying to brush away, only for her grip to become stronger.

Marinette rushed over, forcing her hand off of him.

“Back off, Chloe. He doesn’t want you here,” Marinette whispered, trying her best not to draw any backstage attention to themselves.

Chloe played with her ponytail. “I’m reminding him about our deal. He dates me and you don’t get kicked out of the competition.”

Marinette barely glanced at Adrien, who was pale and taking very short breaths. “Leave, or I’ll call security.”

“As if! My daddy is the one running this show.”

“Not if I start telling everyone that you’ve been playing puppeteer, blackmailing contestants and manipulating the results. I bet your daddy would lose out on a lot of money if that happened.”

Chloe frowned. “This isn’t over, Dupain-Cheng. The next round is all about Parisian votes. We all know just how persuasive I can be.”

She left without another word.

Marinette immediately set the masks down and turned to Adrien, putting her hands gently on his arms. “I don’t need to touch you if you can’t handle it, but I can if it would help. Take deep breaths.”

He was a statue, his breaths strangled. He wouldn’t look at her.

“I know what happened when she got akumatized. I know she took advantage of you,” she said calmly. “I wasn’t trying to snoop into your personal life, but there were witness accounts online and I knew something was wrong.” She squeezed his arms. “I just wanted to be there for you and I’m sorry that I didn’t know what you needed.”

His head barely shook.

“You’ve been such an amazing friend to me and I want to be an amazing friend to you. I promise I trust you wholeheartedly now. And I’ll be there for you, Adrien. I promise. You can count on me.”

His breathing started to even out. She pulled him in for a hug. His arms were shaking.

“You really are like Westley from The Princess Bride,” Marinette murmured. “All that torture and you’re not dead.”

“Only mostly dead,” he croaked.

She nuzzled her head into his neck. “What’s going to get you back to the land of the living, Pigeon?”

Adrien took a deep breath. “Dancing. With you.”

She pulled away, eyeing him up and down. “Really?”

“Yeah. I think I understand why you like it so much now. At least besides the nausea I get before going on stage part.”

She needed to get his mind off his nerves and his latest terrible interaction. “At least I’m not making you twerk.”

He winced. “That was so terrible.”

She chuckled, grabbing the mask and placing it on his face before pulling him into a hug again. “You’ve been amazing, Adrien. I know I’ve put you through a lot, as have other people, but it’s over now. And if we don’t make it to the next round, it’s okay.”

“Seriously?”

“I promise we’ll be friends, no matter what.”

Adrien nodded. “Okay.” He took her mask. “May I?”

Marinette stepped closer, allowing him to position and secure the mask. It was intimate, having his fingers brush over her cheeks when he finished.

She saw the backstage cast members coming to ask them to come on stage and held out her hand. “Ready?”

He took it, sweeping a kiss over her knuckles. “As you wish.”

Her memory darted immediately to Aphid, saying the same phrase. Kissing her hand in the same exact spot.

She shook it off, walking with him onto the stage. She heard the audience react to their costumes, the most verbal reaction of all the contestants first stepping into the spotlight. She blocked them out, staying focused on herself and Adrien as she got into position.

The music started. Ceilings, plaster, can’t you just make it move faster? Lovely, to be sitting here with you.

His dancing was beautiful. Despite everything he’d been through, how she’d treated him, he was here, in rhythm with her.

He excelled with lifts, in supporting her, and she used it to their advantage. The song wove a story of slowly falling in love, their moves synced while showcasing their own individual flares, hers a bit more reserved, like Aphid. Adrien, as Lady Noir, pursued her, at first from afar, admiring her experienced, difficult ballet tricks, before growing the courage to come closer.

Each time the word kissed was used, his hands were on her somehow, whether to help her pointe work, to lift, or just add flirtatious movements to encourage her to be near him.   

She’d wanted it to honor their partnership while showcasing their one-sided love, even if no one else knew about it.

Lovely to sit between comfort and chaos…

Akumas were projected onto the back wall. Yes, there was chaos, but they always defeated it.

He lifted his hand, a pretend Cataclysm, causing the akumas to disperse as she danced around him. Adrien grasped her waist and lifted her, a revolving split. She stayed tight, trying to make it as easy as possible as he lowered her to sit on his shoulder, her hands on her chest before her arms stretched out, gracing the stage with projectiles of the miraculous ladybugs.

He lowered her bridal style into his arms, the two of them pausing for the briefest of devoted glances before she touched her earrings and him, his ring.

But it’s over then you’re driving me home and it kind of comes out as I get up to go.

And yet “Lady Noir” isn’t ready for it to end. Adrien grabbed her hand, pulling her in for a kiss, his lips planting at the edge of hers.

It was planned, practiced, and perfect, sending chills up her sweat drenched spine. She forced herself away from him, because this was not their destiny. She emphasized her mask in her movements, leaping across the stage, away from him, but Adrien pulled her back lovingly despite the truth.

But it’s not real and you don’t exist and I can’t recall the last time I was kissed.

They pulled together quickly, one last spectacular lift, before severing their connection, both thrown back by the word hits.

Adrien tugged her back, desperate, as they sunk to the ground, curled against each other, because she couldn’t bear to be separated from her partner, even if they weren’t lovers.

And it feels like the end of a movie I’ve seen before. Before…

They remained on the floor, chests heaving. Her head barely tilted up to find his face, his hands holding her steady. The silence lasted longer than she’d expected before a roar of applause erupted.

She took a shaky breath as Adrien helped her gracefully up. Tears started forming in her eyes as they waited for the judges’ commentary.

“Are you all right?” one of the judges asked.

She nodded, trying to wipe them away. Normally, she wouldn’t give an explanation, and of course they wouldn’t get the full one, but she did decide to let them know the basics. “Lady Noir and Aphid mean so much to me. I really wanted our dance to be a tribute they’d approve of.”

“It looks like you learned how to show your emotions in your routine. You were both stunning.”

Her hands came up to her mouth, tears starting to leak out. Adrien slipped an arm around her back in comfort.

The judges had nothing but good things to say this time. She kept trying to keep the tears back, but it was difficult. Finishing the routine felt like saying goodbye to every chance she had with Aphid. And yes, she was over him, but getting over someone felt a bit like grief. Even after time passed, she thought there would always be split second moments she’d miss him too terribly to put into words.

As she tried to pull herself together, the rest of the contestants came out on stage.

“It’s time to split our dancers in half again. Only three pairs will be moving on to round three. Are you ready to find out who is Sensational enough?”

Everyone in the audience held their breath, along with everyone on the dance floor.

“Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupain-Cheng!”

Chapter Text

Marinette let out a scream, jumping up and down before landing in Adrien’s arms. He hugged her tight, swinging her around. She cried harder.

Everything else on stage was a blur as people congratulated them. All she cared about was beaming at Adrien, Adrien’s hand in hers, the rush of pride that washed over her that Adrien was her partner.

“You okay, Slippers?” Adrien asked as soon as they were backstage.

“I’m happy,” she stated, still trying to wipe at her eyes without ruining her makeup.

They were paraded backstage to a section of the studio reserved for interviews, something they hadn’t made them do after round one. It wasn’t what she wanted to do after her adrenaline crash and basically sobbing on television, but they’d gotten to round three, so who was she to complain?

Marinette was still reeling from their dance, the camera crew’s lighting causing her to continue sweating. But she sat down, trying to look like a winner instead of a crying Aphid wannabe.

Adrien sat himself next to her, his hand coming to her arm momentarily, as if reminding her to take a breath.

She did, trying not to blush at the contact and fidget for different reasons.

“Congratulations on getting to the last round!” their interviewer gushed. “And can I say, you two look absolutely fantastic as gender swapped Aphid and Lady Noir.”

“It was all Marinette’s idea,” Adrien stated, giving Marinette a warm smile.

She stayed focused on their interviewer, hoping she didn’t look too crazy. “I thought it would be a refreshing twist on our beloved heroes. It makes me wonder what it would be like if their roles were reversed.”

Would she have kept as many secrets as Aphid? Would she have been distant and professional, unable to let him in?

“I have to say, we were all wrong from the start about your chemistry together. It’s clear that you both care about each other very much.”

“We’re partners,” Adrien affirmed.

“And I’m very glad to have him as mine.”

"Is it true that you broke up with Chloe to be with Marinette?"

Marinette froze in her chair. They thought what now?

She’d been expecting the interviewers to question this for a while now, but no one had brought it up all day, so she’d thought they were in the clear. Apparently not.

"Marinette and I are just dance together," he said without hesitation. 

“That kiss on stage says otherwise.”

“It was a fake kiss. I got a peck right here, completely intentional.” Marinette pointed to the side of her lip. “Plus, it was just for the dance.”

"You were spotted dancing together at the site of the latest akumatized victim, who just so happened to be your ex-girlfriend."

"We were there to be inspired for tonight," he replied. "We wanted a different environment than the studio and it was my first time really seeing other people dance for fun without worrying about an enormous competition, which was exactly what I needed to get my head in the game."

"It's pretty well known that you and Marinette are not only dance partners, but classmates. You must spend a lot of time together."

"We do," Marinette butted in. "But that doesn't mean we're anything more than friends."

"Does that mean Adrien is actually in love with Lady Noir instead?"

Adrien's eyebrows shot up. "What?"

"You were photographed giving a rose to Lady Noir moments after she rescued you, not to mention you two did a photoshoot together promoting the new Aphid and Lady Noir clothing line your father created. It didn’t go unnoticed that your ad with Lady Noir was your first more mature modeling session.” Marinette hated how the word ‘mature’ was code for showing skin, as if the two somehow correlated. “Surely something purposeful happened with her?"

Marinette's eyes darted over to Adrien. It's not like she didn't know about those moments since she'd been there, and she probably could make a case for a romance between them if the public knew about her snuggling with him in his bed, but even that hadn't been romantic.

And who was this lady to use her cat puns?

Adrien smiled. "I promise you, I really don't know Lady Noir well. Those are the only two times we've met and she's incredibly professional.” And that night in bed, Marinette thought. “She was supporting Aphid for those photoshoots since she heard a percentage of sales for the Aphid and Lady Noir line were going to mental health charities to try to help people in Paris. As for the rose, she saved my life and I wanted to show her a bit of gratitude."

"A red rose?"

"Red and black are a great color combination, don't you think?"

The interviewer frowned, then turned to Marinette. "Are you at all jealous of Adrien's potential feelings for Lady Noir?"

She held back a sigh. Why should she expect this interview to focus on the dancing? "I know this is probably very hard for you to hear, but no one that you've mentioned likes anyone else that you've mentioned in a romantic way. Adrien has been nothing but amazing as a partner despite how grueling the training is and how difficult I've been as a teacher. It probably won't be a shocker to anyone to learn that Adrien Agreste is super professional, no matter what."

"That's to say he's had opportunity to be unprofessional?"

That was it. 

“We’ve had a very long day.” Marinette stood up, glad Adrien mimicked her. “Thank you for your support. We’ll see you at the finale.”

They weren’t even out of the glare of lights when the interviewer called out, “That last round is all about the Parisians’ votes! Do you think you’ll get enough?”

Marinette stormed away, trying to get their words out of her head. One of the other contestants that had gotten through was Lila, who had somehow gotten an in with the Agreste brand for modeling. She was approaching Adrien’s level of popularity and her partner was one of the most famous musical artists in France. Not to mention Chloe had basically said she was going to be telling her millions of followers not to vote for them. How were they supposed to get as many votes? And why did it have to be a popularity contest, anyway? Why couldn’t it be based off skill, like it should be?

Her hands formed fists. They’d come so far, and for what?

A hand came to her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

She flinched, looking up to find Adrien. She hadn’t realized she’d gone on autopilot for so long, leading them back to an abandoned corner of backstage where a dusty makeup table sat, mirror partially shattered and bulbs unlit. She softened. “I just wish the competition wasn’t a drama and it was actually based on skill.” She let her fingers straighten and fan out in perfect form. “Maybe then we could actually win.”

“You really don’t think we have a chance otherwise?”

Marinette looked in the mirror, pressing her hand into the glass. “I don’t think it’s in the cards. As much as I try…” Her reflection vanished as a piece of the glass fell out, shattering on the table.

Adrien drew her back gently, guiding her into his arms. She rested her head on his chest, wishing she could enjoy it, but her heart was numb.

"Marinette…what if we gave them what they wanted?"

She almost snorted. "A scandalous drama?"

"Well, not a scandalous thing. But what if..."

She pulled away to see him, waiting for him to continue. He was staring, as if wanting her to fill in the blanks. After an extended pause, he said, "What if we dated?”

He may as well have spoken another language, as well as she was putting the words together. “We…date?”        

“Isn’t that how a lot of the winners gain popularity? They date?”

“I guess on other shows, but…”

“And with this one, it’s letting the Parisians pick. You said our chances aren’t that great otherwise. So what if we date until the final round is over?”

Marinette didn’t watch many shows, but the shows she did watch involved dance. All the competitions she’d seen involving couples always played up the romance, as if that had anything to do with actual talent. She’d seen it all—partners who had just met being forced to have romantic chemistry, couples learning dance for the first time, professional dancers swooning over whatever partner they were paired with, whether they were in the industry, a celebrity, or just some rando off the street with two left feet and a pretty face.

The couple with the best chemistry always won, not the best dancers.

She bit her lip, unable to even begin processing the decision.

"It's to win, right?" Adrien prodded. “This is your dream.”

She took a breath. Yes, it was everything she’d been working for her entire life. A short lived, tear inducing, bloody footed career doing what she loved until she broke.

As much as she wanted it, she couldn’t do that to Adrien. He always put her first, even when she had treated him like dirt. He was literal sunshine and it was starting to make her insides squirm.

She was most definitely falling for him. "I can't make you do that."

"You wouldn't be making me," he murmured, his fingers entwining around her wrist.

She tensed, wanting to melt into him. "I thought I’d done too much to make you even want to be my friend.”

His lip jutted out. “It’s just more complicated now.”

She waited for him to explain, but he didn’t. “Look, I’m really sorry for everything from before. I know you’re not really over it, and you shouldn’t be forced to process your feelings faster, which is why I’m not going to date you.”

Adrien’s eyes glinted. “You have changed.”

“I like you,” she breathed, wincing, because it sounded like a romantic confession. She corrected, “We’re friends now. Well, you’ve always acted like my friend, I’ve just…I was too caught up in the past and scared of being hurt by you.” She looked down. “I’m so sorry, Adrien. I promise not to do that to you again. I really do trust you now.”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

“I, ” a finger came under her chin, causing her sentence to stutter, “do.”

“Good.”

And then he kissed her.

Her stomach clenched in a way it never had before, her legs weakening as he caressed her cheeks with his strong, soft fingers. Coaxing out her love, bringing her rawness to the surface, her defenses crumbling to dust and ruin. And her body craved it all.

His tongue was in her mouth. She’d never had a tongue, minus her own, in her mouth before. It was somehow pleasant, and yet terrible, because he knew what he was doing, which meant he must have kissed Chloe a million times, most likely without wanting to, which almost made it worse.

And what definitely made it worse was he wasn’t kissing her because he wanted to, but because he was sacrificing himself for her. Again. Dating Chloe because of her. Letting Chloe touch him because of her. Lying about their relationship status because of her.

But she didn’t pull away because she could hear cameras clicking, the murmur of a giant crowd that had gathered around them, magnets for gossip, and she wasn’t going to let Adrien’s sacrifice be in vain.

She liked this. She liked their closeness. She liked the way he obliterated her, challenged her, loved her with everything he had, even when she’d had nothing to give him. It was there in his kiss, smooth and in control, while she panicked, even in the delight, that everything she was doing was wrong.

He knew what he was doing. That was the thought that kept repeating in her mind. She was awkward, fumbling in this dance in which she didn’t know the steps, didn’t know if she was allowed to touch him (a first for her, since she normally touched him everywhere during dance), didn’t know what he liked.

But she did know what he liked. Consent. Realness. Actual love and sincerity. The freedom to make his own decisions.

She pulled away, pretending they were in a routine. Her eye contact was on point, as was his. Their expressions matched. Longing. Contentedness. Love.

A flurry of questions escaped the gawking people that had formed around them. Adrien slipped his hand into hers, tugging her towards the exit. She squished herself through the crowd, jogging along with him as soon as they were outside.

Marinette led him over to her motorbike, which her parents rarely let her use besides to make bakery deliveries, the two of them hopping on and driving away as fast as possible.

She drove them to the studio, the only place they could have some privacy. Neither of them said anything until they were upstairs with nothing but their reflections in the giant mirrors as company, the door locked.

It wasn’t until then that she realized that they were still in costume.

Marinette studied him as he took a few steps, more interested in the room than in her, as if he hadn’t spent the last few months memorizing every detail. “Adrien—”

He held up a hand. “It’s not the same thing. It’s not the same thing as with Chloe.” He gestured to her. “You’re not blackmailing me. You’re not forcing me to do this.”

She frowned. “How did you know that’s what I was thinking?”

“Because you’re a good person, Marinette. That’s why I never took your meanness to heart. Sure, it was a lot, but I watched you day in and day out be there for other people at school. You always stand up to Chloe, no matter what. And Lila. I know you don’t want to become like either of them. You won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“You just had the chance to tell me to be your boyfriend for the show. When you didn’t, I offered. You turned me down. You don’t take advantage of me, ever.”

“I have, actually. I’ve forced you to dance way more than what you signed up for.” She crossed her arms. “And me saying no to us fake dating doesn’t put me in the right.”

“No, it doesn’t, but that’s not your fault.” He ran a hand through his hair, staring at his black cat reflection. “Show business is messed up. I should know and that’s why I want you to win. You’re different than all of them. You deserve your shot.”

Marinette couldn’t help herself. She threw her body at him, her arms clinging around his neck, her head buried into his chest. He stumbled, but caught their balance the way she had taught him, fast and smooth. She let out a strangled sob.

She didn’t know how much he was giving up to be with her, but she knew how much he’d given up already for her to dance. “Thank you, Adrien. I don’t think there’s anything I could do to repay you.”

“The only thing I wanted was your trust.”

“But I need to do something. A lot of somethings.” She mumbled into his chest, “I’ll never call you Pigeon again.”

“What if I like it?”

She peeked up at him. “Why would you?”

His face was as genuine as ever. “It’s your nickname for me, Slippers.”

Her face reddened. “You don’t want a redo?”

His arms stayed wrapped around her, safe and steady. “Never.”

She squeezed herself to him. “My life is yours, Adrien Agreste.”

If only he realized how much she meant it.

“And you’ve got my feet, at least until you win us this competition.”

Mortified, she stood on tiptoe, pressing her lips softly into his cheek, relishing the feel. He snuggled his face into her neck afterwards, still holding her, as if settling into this new role of fake boyfriend. Of actual friend. Of something that wasn’t enough for her, but had to be.

                                                                          /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Adrien rode home in a daze.

Kissing Marinette had been…something. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about it. The timing? Not the best. Reasoning? At least it was heroic. But the kiss itself?

His brain came up blank. He’d wanted to kiss her. He wanted to be with her. And yet…there seemed to be plenty of reasons to stop him.

Lady Noir’s voice popped into his head. You’re going to need to get over your moral obligation to…whatever it is in your normal life.

He sighed. He doubted Lady Noir would approve of his decision to be with someone he somewhat wanted to be with like this, but he couldn’t help himself.

Adrien couldn’t wait to talk to Tikki about it, to see what she thought. Maybe she’d have some advice for him. Heck, maybe some of the other kwamis might have something to say.

Their advice was usually not something he took, like the time Kaalki had told him to wage war on the “reign of overlords that shroud themselves in the deceit of capitalism.” Kaalki kind of terrified him, in her own weird, medieval ways. Hopefully she wouldn’t ask him to mount anyone’s head on a spike for some noble duty of terrorizing his enemies with the fear of their own demise. Noble steed his butt.

With that lovely thought in mind, Adrien opened the door to the car and went up the steps of his house, ready to shower, feed his kwamis, and wait for them to bombard him with questions, given they must have watched the show on TV and were dying for him to tell them everything.

He’d barely opened the door and already sensed the chill that he associated with his father’s presence. He was at the top of the stairs, arms behind his back, peering down at him over the rim of his glasses.

Adrien stayed at the bottom, waiting.

“I see you’ve broken up with Chloe.”

Did you also see that she would have forced me to sleep with her if she’d gotten the chance? he wanted to say, but bit his tongue.

“I also discovered that you’ve confirmed a fake relationship with this Marinette Dupain-Cheng girl?”

“Why are you assuming it’s fake?”

“You’re an Agreste. Agrestes are only with those who are exceptional.”

“Marinette is exceptional.”

His father’s expression didn’t change. “In a few days, this will all be over. Chloe will forgive you, as will I, if you right your wrongs.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I hate Chloe. I’m never going to be with her again. As for Marinette…” He didn’t know how to say how he felt, with everything being so jumbled. But he did know one thing, regardless of where he stood with his feelings for her and Lady Noir. “I want to be with her.”

“That’s touching,” his father deadpanned. “But it’s not your decision to make.”

“Yes, it is. I’m practically an adult.”

“And yet you are not. You are my son and still a child, as proven by your tantrum.”

He flinched. “I’m not throwing a tantrum; I’m expressing how I feel and what I want. I want to be with Marinette.”

“Which directly goes against my own desires, which proves how destructive this show and that girl have been to your life. You are not to participate in the final round of the dance show.”

All his oxygen left him. Something rattled deep inside his bones, but was quickly snuffed out. “Yes, father.”

It wasn’t what he wanted, but there wasn’t any fight in him. He went up the stairs and into his room, making sure to lock the door behind him.

“Adrien!” Tikki flew out of his bag. “How could you agree with him like that?”

“What am I supposed to do?” he asked, leaning on the door for support. “He’s my dad. I can’t disobey him.”

Tikki frowned. “Most kids do, at least every once and a while. Especially when their parents are wrong. You have to dance with Marinette.”

Adrien looked down at his costume. He wore his lady’s black suit still, and yet had absolutely none of her charisma or free spirit. He couldn’t defy his father. He couldn’t be like his cat.

He tore off the costume, put on his pajamas, and climbed into bed. The kwamis surrounded him, for once knowing better than to ask him questions.

Tikki rested next to his head. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No.” He turned over, away from her. “No one can do anything.”

Chapter Text

Adrien didn’t get out of bed the next morning when his alarm went off. He had Tikki text Marinette that he wasn’t going to be able to make it to practice, but that they’d talk later.

He didn’t have the heart to tell her that they were done. No more dating, no more dancing, no more dreams for either of them.

Someone knocked on the door. The kwamis fled back to the pool table, hiding in the Miracle Box within. Tikki was nice enough to unlock the door magically before disappearing.

“Come in,” he croaked.

Nathalie clutched her tablet, frowning at the sight of him. “I wasn’t expecting you to still be at home.”

“I don’t feel good.” He rolled over, pulling the sheets over his head.

He felt the bed shift as Nathalie sat down. “I see. Does this have to do with the conversation you had with Gab—your father last night?”

Adrien hoped his squirming was answer enough.

“Don’t listen to your father. I want you to do what you want to do, Adrien.”

The weight in his heart lifted, helping him breathe again. Such simple words, and yet so powerful. He peeked from the covers. “You really think I can do that?”

“Here.” She held up her tablet, sliding through pictures of an apartment and documents. “I’ve leased this in your name and created a bank account with money your mother left you, along with your promotional revenue, that only you have access to. As soon as you leave here, start changing the passwords. Your father doesn’t know about any of it.”

“You got me a place to stay?”

“You deserve to make your own happiness, Adrien.” She held up a key. “This is the only one.”

He hugged her. “Thank you, Nathalie.”

“All of your essential belongings are already packed and there.”

Adrien looked around his room, realizing that a few of his favorite things were already gone. He must have been so out of it the night before that he hadn’t noticed.

“You’ll have to hurry, though. Your father had meetings to attend to in person this morning, but he’ll be home soon.”

Adrien gave her another giant squeeze. “I’ll make sure I leave in time.”

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. It was the same spiraling darkness he always felt whenever he was trapped in these walls.

“Nathalie?”

“Yes?”

He didn’t want her to be stuck here either, in this barren home with his cruel father. “…Look after yourself, okay?”

She gave a small smile that he didn’t really believe, as if she, too, felt destined to be imprisoned here forever. “Be free.”

She left without another word. Adrien didn’t spare another moment, not wanting his father to come home and catch him. He shoved the door closed and started gathering some of his other favorite things, making sure to include his pictures of his mom and the Miracle Box.      

For once, he didn’t feel bogged down, guilty, or ashamed. He ran down the steps, threw open the doors, and stepped into the light of a new day.

When he left, he didn’t look back.

                                                                                /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Marinette was still trying to figure out her absolutely new life. Sure, not much had changed. She was still on Sensational. She was still Lady Noir. But now, she was dating Adrien Agreste.

Kind of.

He’d given her a scare the morning after agreeing to fake date her, sending a text to say that he wasn’t coming to practice. Fortunately, he hadn’t left her in suspense for very long. He’d called her and explained he’d moved out, somewhere his father couldn’t find him and try to control his life.

Because that’s exactly what he’d tried to do. Adrien breaking up with Chloe and dating Marinette was apparently enough reason for his dad to ban him from basically ever setting foot outside again, much less compete in the competition and potentially have his own love life.

Not that their love life was real.

Marinette couldn’t believe that a dad could be like that, but for once, it was sinking in that Gabriel Agreste was the monster Adrien had always claimed he was.

“If there’s anything I can do to protect you from him…” she whispered on the phone.

“I don’t want him near you,” Adrien stated, a fierceness in his voice she wasn’t used to hearing.

Her heart traveled up her throat. “So…you’re settled into your new place?”

“Yes. Nathalie is a life saver.”

Marinette couldn’t help but wonder how literal that was. “I could come over with some food from the bakery, if you want. Give you some company.”

“Can you make sure you’re not seen?”

Marinette couldn’t help but smile. “I think I can manage.”

She was grateful to get his address not only to visit him now, but just in case she ended up visiting again as Lady Noir, even if it meant watching silently from afar, ready to defend him if his father dared to track him down.

Marinette really wasn’t against beating up civilians if they did anything illegal. Like child abuse.

She rushed over, making sure to wear a hoodie and keep her head down. No one seemed to pick her out on the street and it hadn’t looked like she was followed.

She knocked on his door, tugging at the hoodie strings and hugging herself with her free arm. She’d never visited a guy’s apartment before.

Adrien must have looked out the peephole to see it was her and ushered her in quickly. She watched him lock the door with two chains, clearly wanting to make sure no one else got in.

What the heck had his father done to him to make him this paranoid?

“Would you like a drink?”

“Sure.” Marinette studied his body, scanning for bruises as he went to work grabbing mugs. She looked away when his eyes met hers, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. “Nice place.”

His apartment was small, but suited him perfectly. The furniture was much comfier and the warm colors matched his personality, unlike the cold, vacant ceilings and modernism of his mansion. She’d never known him to be extravagant despite everything the magazines said.

“Nathalie picked out most of it, I guess.” He poured some coffee. “But she knows my style…which is kind of weird to admit, given I’m never allowed to do anything in my style.”

His little Aphid doll from Heroes Day was resting on the couch, smiling up at her. She picked him up, unable to help herself, almost feeling like she was betraying Aphid by being here. “This is so much better than your old room.”

“You’ve seen my room?”

She panicked, putting Aphid down on the chair, facing a bit sideways so she wouldn’t be in his line of sight. “It was in a magazine spread once.”

“Oh.” He set their coffee down on the table. “I remember that one. It was annoying to have them in my space. I felt like a zoo animal.”

Marinette took her mug, letting it warm her hands. “You’re not an exhibit to be displayed, Adrien.”

His hand came to her leg. It seemed absentminded and sent her insides squirming. “You’re wearing the pajama pants I got you.”

It’d been a pretty purposeful move on her part, but it still made her flustered. “They’re comfortable.”

She absolutely loved them. It felt like he saw all of her, in a way, but right now she didn’t know how much of herself she wanted him to see, so she busied herself opening up the boxes of sandwiches, cheese, and pastries. “Did you want to talk about what happened with your dad?”

“I don’t want to keep secrets from you, but it’s not something I want to think about right now.”

“Not to mention another touchy subject, but…I’m sorry that I snooped on the internet about Chloe.”

“I should have been honest about that too. It’s just…” He rubbed his face. “I was mad at you for not believing me. It feels like no one really sees what they go through, they just see the version of me they want to see and imagine everything is always perfect for me. And it’s not fair.”

“I’m sorry I never believed you. But I do now and I’m not going to doubt your word on anything again.”

“That’d be nice.”

He didn’t sound like he believed her, but she wasn’t going to push him. They ate in silence. It started raining, the drops tickling the glass right outside with a peaceful plinking noise. Adrien stood up and rifled through a box until he found some candles. He lit them, the room flickering in a dim and daring dusk.

Their eyes met, the night before flashing through Marinette’s mind. “So…we’re dating now?”

“Yes,” he said, his single word answer careful.

“…And you’re sure?” she whispered.

“I’m sure.”

“I guess we’ll have to talk about what that looks like when we’re out in public.”

“Definitely, but do you think maybe we can just spend some time as us for a bit tonight?”

Us, as in fake dating her was going to make him put on a tedious façade. She understood, but it didn’t make her feel any better. “Of course. Did you want to watch a movie or something?”

“Sure.”

He turned on the television. It immediately started playing a trailer for an Aphid and Lady Noir movie, which was literal fanfiction about their romance that they hid from the public.

Adrien pulled up a different streaming service after Aphid and Lady Noir started making out, clearing his throat. “Maybe something else?”

“We never got to see your mom’s favorite.”

Adrien smiled. “Let me go unpack it.”

He hurried into his room. Marinette couldn’t help but smile as he rushed back, popping it into the DVD player with the thrilled anticipation of a child on Christmas morning.

He sat down next to her, their sides brushing. “I think you’ll love it.”

She looked up as his face, grateful for the happiness spreading along every inch of it. “I think so too.”

                                                                            /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

By the time the movie was over, Marinette was curled against Adrien’s side and his hand was still on her leg. As much as she’d paid attention to the movie, her heart had kept up a constant string of sautés in her chest. And since he’d said they were watching the movie as themselves without dating, all she could think about was that maybe there was some part of him that wanted this.

Or she’d done a great job of desensitizing the guy to touching her, given all they did while dancing was touch for lifts and other choreography.

Like the kiss, which she was still surprised he’d agreed to, even if it wasn’t on the mouth.

“Did you like it?” he asked, his voice low.

She hated how vulnerable he sounded, as if he was expecting her to reject such a big part of him. “I loved it.”

His body relaxed. “My mom was such a romantic.”

She’d probably hate how much her son was fake dating, Marinette thought. “Do you think she’d like me?”

“She definitely would.” Adrien beamed. “She had a dramatic flair and a passion for basically any kind of art, so the fact that you’re a dancer would have sent her over the moon for you.” He turned off the television, the screen going black. “I know my father ordered me to be on Sensational, but there was a piece of me that really thought I’d connect with mom more by dancing.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.” He took a deep breath. “I know she wasn’t super into dance, but at the same time, I know she would have loved it. And you’ve taught me why, so…thank you. For connecting me with her in a new way.”

She brushed a stray tear from her face. “I really can’t tell you what an honor that is, Adrien.”

He blinked a few times as he took in her glistening eyes. “You really do care, don’t you?”

Her neck prickled with heat. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“No one ever lets me talk about her. But you’ve made it really easy to.”

Marinette started tracing his palm, letting her fingers skate over the lines of his skin.

“You do that a lot,” he murmured. “Usually to correct something.”

She forced herself to keep going, trying not to drown in her embarrassment. She wanted to be more like Lady Noir. “If it bothers you, tell me.”

“It feels nice.”

She was pretty sure her eyes dilated from his husky tone alone. It took all her concentration not to pull away or look at him too quickly, wanting to remain suave.

“Will we be kissing in public?” she asked quietly, extending her fingers’ dance floor to his forearm.

His eyes closed. “We’ll need to.”

“How often?”

“Whenever it’s natural.”

All the time, then, if they were going by her standards. “So basically every time we tease one another or smile at each other, we should be doing something cute?”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be easy. You’ll know when.”

That was the problem. Right now, every time she looked at him, she wanted to kiss him. And it scared her, that if she had absolutely nothing holding her back, she’s be climbing into his lap and getting to know him as intimately as possible.

She pulled her hand away from his wrist, but he caught hers in his own. His eyes were open, watching her. “What’s got you so worried?”

I like you, she wanted to confess. I really do want to be with you.

But it wasn’t hard to remember just days ago, when he’d pulled away from her for apologizing for everything she’d done to him. That he’d said he needed time to process all of that.

How could she force her feelings on him so soon?

His voice lowered. “Did you want to practice?” She stared at him, uncomprehending. He gave her wrist a delicate squeeze. “Kissing.”

Could he feel her pulse thrumming along his fingertips? “It’s not taking advantage?”

“Not if we both want to.”

Her breath hitched as their lips hovered, so incredibly close. She wanted to reach out, grip his shirt, pull him into her, mold together with him.

His eyes were heady with something she didn’t recognize. She was mesmerized by the smell of him. The tangibility of his presence, affecting her body without him even needing to touch her.

She trusted him. She wanted him.

She was pretty sure she was in love with him.

“Did you want to kiss me?” she asked, unable to bring herself to kiss him unless he consented.

“I want you to be comfortable.”

It was a stupid answer, but she didn’t blame him for it. What would it sound like for a girl to hear that their guy friend wanted more?

It reminded her of Aphid’s stupid obsession with being responsible for everything. “You’re not obligated to do anything but dance with me, Adrien.”

He blinked, his eyes readjusting away from her face.

She thought through the words, seeing how he must have taken them. That he wasn’t obligated to kiss her. That she didn’t want him to.

Marinette swallowed. “I guess we’ll have to, but…maybe we should hold off and practice at the studio instead of your apartment.”

“Another place without adult supervision.”

Her reasoning was it was a place without a bed. Which was stupid reasoning, since it’s not like he felt that way about her. “Can I ask a weird question?”

His jaw ticked, but he nodded.

“This isn’t any of my business, so please don’t feel like you have to answer, but…have you ever had a girlfriend or done anything with a girl outside of Chloe?”

“Anything?” he repeated, his voice flat.

Her awkwardness spiked. “You can forget that part. Just the girlfriend question, then.”

“No.”

She didn’t like the coldness that had crept into his voice, but maybe it was because she mentioned Chloe. “I’ve never had a boyfriend or anything remotely like that before. This is new territory for me,” she whispered. “I just want you to know that I want to treat you well. I don’t want you feeling objectified or like I’m using you.”

“I trust you, Marinette.” He touched her cheek. “And I promise that if you do something that bothers me, I’ll let you know. You let me know if I do anything that make you uncomfortable or hurt, okay?”

“Okay.”

She looked at the time. When had it gotten so late?

“Time to go home?” he asked.

She nodded. She didn’t want to leave Adrien. Even if it was a bit painful, she felt so safe in his presence. When it was just the two of them together, there was so much potential.

Marinette left the warmth of his body, gathering her things. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

He walked her to the door, letting his fingers brush against his one last time. “It’s a date.”

Chapter Text

Their new life was perfect.

They’d never been more in sync—They arrived at exactly the same time in the mornings to practice. Adrien knew all the warm ups. He brought her coffee how she liked it and she brought him his favorites from the bakery. They would sit with their backs to the glass, their legs and feet touching as they ate, not going as hard at their workouts as they used to.

Because Marinette trusted him now.

His mood had improved now that she wasn’t yelling or criticizing him every five seconds, something she shouldn’t have been doing from the start. He’d started making suggestions. Good ones.

“Yes,” she’d say. “And after that, we could have our left hands reach up—”

“And then come down into a pose like this?”

“Yes!” She’d wrap her arms around him, and he’d spin her around even with no one watching, and it was like something out of a fairytale.

They’d talked about what their fake relationship would look like after their first kiss. They talked about communicating the times touch was okay and when it wasn’t, about being open about what they were comfortable with and what they weren’t.

“That was my first kiss,” she’d admitted.

“I wish you’d been mine,” he’d said back.

It’d burned her in ways she wasn’t used to burning. His matter-of-fact admittance tore at her heart. What he’d meant, of course, as that he’d wished his first kiss hadn’t been with Chloe. He probably would rather have had his first kiss with someone he actually had a crush on. Now, he was kissing her all the time, and sure, he seemed happy enough, but their kisses weren’t real.

She wondered if it felt worse than carpet burn for him to kiss her.

She pushed those feelings away as soon as they came up. It’s not like they hadn’t known what they were in for. Adrien had agreed to this. Adrien had started this. Adrien, for some reason, looked happy.

And at least she wasn’t Chloe. She kept telling herself that. She kept being as nice as possible to Adrien. No more rude comments about his dance, no snide disapproving looks when he didn’t point his toes or lost his balance. She held her tongue when he complained about being sore. She kept their sessions short, she brought him baked goods, she offered to go absolutely anywhere he wanted to go. She made him a Mr. Banana t-shirt to match her own, she got him copies of movies his father had never allowed him to watch, and she showered him with as much praise and affection as she possibly could.

He deserved her everything. That’s all he’d ever given her.

For once, his smiles seemed genuine.

Of course, they really played up their relationship when they were in public, but the affection didn’t really stop when they were alone. He still reached out to her, a hand along her waist as she talked through their routine. It was automatic now, the way he revolved around her. She tried to chalk up his closeness to how focused he was on dancing or the fact that she wasn’t standoffish anymore, but no matter the reason, he lingered.

She didn’t think it meant he liked her. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have offered to be her fake boyfriend, but her real one.

“Unless he’s scared you’ll say no and it’ll ruin your partnership, which will then ruin your chance at getting first in the competition,” Plagg had said, playing devil’s advocate, as always.

She’d ignored him.

Things between Lady Noir and Aphid had stayed steady. He was still asking her questions about her life and they talked about stuff going on, but for some reason it felt less deep than it had before she’d started “dating” Adrien. She didn’t tell him she was seeing anyone when the reason why was so convoluted. He hadn’t brought up his own love life either, so they were even. It was better than when he was being secretive about being the Guardian, so she accepted it with ease.

And then there was her other kerfuffle of a relationship—she hadn’t visited Adrien as Lady Noir in weeks, not since he’d moved. She felt too guilty going to see Adrien when she was in love with him, even if she was sure he didn’t feel the same way with either of her personas. It made her angry that he would kiss Marinette all day and cuddle with Lady Noir all night (if he still would, at least).

He wasn’t the kind of guy to string anyone along, but it was hard not to feel a little manipulated, even if she was the one getting so much out of their relationship. Adrien hadn’t said a word to Marinette about Lady Noir. To be fair, she’d never told him about her run in with Aphid. But she couldn’t help but want more of him, which was what finally pushed her into visiting him with her mask.

                                                                          /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Water dripped down the glass of his apartment windows. Adrien sat on his couch, trying to ignore the rumbles of thunder and flashes of lightning. He used to love windows. They used to be his only way to see the world, but now that he was practically in hiding from his father, he wanted to be closed off from the world.

Especially when the sky sounded so angry.

He wasn’t sure why he was so irritated. He had his own place and hadn’t seen or heard from his father in weeks. Absolutely everything with Marinette was going spectacularly—except it wasn’t.

Every time she was near him, his skin crackled with longing. It was like an earthquake rumbled within him that wanted out. He’d already been touching her all the time for dance, but now he was forced to kiss her in public, which was a bit of a struggle when every time he got near her, all he wanted was to be closer.

He made sure to be a gentleman, but for once in his life, he actually loved being photographed. It was an excuse to hold her hand, to offer her his jacket, to not hide the longing looks and to let his mouth so delicately press to her own.

It was so easy to be with Marinette. She always tried to put him first and showed genuine concern for his well-being. And yeah, she’d been like that before, but in a more guarded way. Now, she made it clear that she was there for him. Every word out of her mouth was nothing but kind (unless he didn’t point his toes, of course).

Their life was now one big spontaneous choreographed routine and, as effortless as it was to stay in step with her, he wasn’t sure when he’d get too tired to continue.

Because that’s what it was to her. A routine.

On a particularly vicious snap of thunder, the window creaked.

A black shadow passed over him. He tensed until he realized it was Lady Noir.

His mood was too mixed for his liking. Anger, most likely at his own situation creeping into how he felt about Lady Noir’s very long absence. Relief, that she was finally here. Fear, because she’d leave and because he had no idea what feelings were right.

He’d somewhat abandoned his feelings for Lady Noir since he’d started dating Marinette, but at the moment, that felt pretty foolish. 

His voice was raw. “It’s been a while since you visited.”

“I’ve been busy.” She frowned. “Plus you moved. Without telling me.”

“I guess you really wanted to see me, then, if you tracked me down.”

“Speaking of seeing people, I heard that you’re in a relationship with your dance partner.”

“It’s fake.”

“What?”

He winced, not liking that he was telling their secret, that it had left his mouth so quickly that there was no way to recall it. But still, it was the word fake that felt like a lie. It’s not like he didn’t like Marinette. He genuinely liked her. And yet their relationship was still a ruse. Another relationship he had to keep professional and not muddy with his feelings.

“We’re better as dance partners,” he said. “It’s less messy that way.”

“Oh.” She stayed by the window, as if too shy to come near him. “You kiss her a lot.”

He looked away, his face heating. The fact that she was checking the news for him must mean something, right?

Or maybe she just had an overzealous friend who was obsessed with the show or him and she ended up seeing the news by pure coincidence.

“It’s not like it was with Chloe, is it?” she asked.

“No. I promise she’s not like that.”

“And you’re being careful?”

His fingers traced the glass. “If you mean am I making sure I won’t be heartbroken, then yes.” It didn’t really feel like the truth. Not when his heart was such a messy, broken place. “Or maybe you’re just making sure I’m using protection.”

It was a joke he’d thought she’d make, but she didn’t laugh. “I think she likes you.”

He did the polite thing and held back his scoff. “I guess she does now. We didn’t always see eye to eye.”

“I mean really likes you.”

Adrien shrugged. “We don’t have to talk about her, you know. I doubt that’s why you’re here.”

She hugged herself, stepping farther into his living room. “I wanted to check in with you. Make sure you were okay and that no one was taking advantage of you.” She gestured to his new couch. “You’ve clearly had a lot happening in life, if you’ve moved.”

“Life has actually been okay lately,” he said, glad that it was true. “How about yourself? You know, in general, since you can’t tell me details.”

Her lip squirmed. “I’ve been pretty okay too.”

It didn’t seem true, but then again, how honest was he expecting her to be?

“You deserve better than that. You’re the first person I could start opening up to about stuff going on in my life.” Minus Marinette, of course, though if he was honest, he’d reserved talking about his mom to her and the rest of his life to Lady Noir. “My father…” He shook his head. “We don’t get along. No one else has looked out for me before. And sure, Marinette and I are on better terms, but it got really tiring being the only one trying in our partnership for so long. But with you…”

“It’s nothing.”

Then why are you here? he wanted to ask. “I’m just saying I feel like an actual person when you’re around. That’s all.”

“Did you think something was going to happen between us?” she whispered.

He couldn’t look at her. “No. I wasn’t expecting that to be a possibility. Even without the whole secret identity thing, falling in love with a stupid hot celebrity doesn’t really seem to be your thing.”

“Why do you think you’re stupid?” When he didn’t answer, she asked again, “Who told you that you’re stupid?”

His throat bobbed. Why was it that he always broke down when she was there?

“Adrien,” she murmured, her clawed fingers tracing his face. “I know I don’t know you well, but you’re not stupid. You think through things. You’re not someone who just follows orders blindly, you want to make sure your actions make a positive impact on those around you. Like you did for Marinette. You’re dating her so she can win the competition, right? And I bet you really talked it out with her too and made sure you both felt safe and loved during the whole thing.”

He nodded.

“See? You’re so smart. You’re down to earth. You do so much for other people. You’re a good person. You wake up early for those dance times, I bet. You sacrifice sleep. You model for your father…”

She kept going, listing so many different things he did, repeating over and over again that he was good.

“You’re safe. You’re loved. I’m so glad you’re you, Adrien.”

He felt like he could breathe again. But with his breath, he said the most damning thing, “I think I’m in love with you.”

Her posture froze. Her one hand was in his hair, her other on his cheek. Her green eyes found his. He felt the slight difference as her muscles tugged her a fraction of an inch away.

But she stayed. Her hands relaxed, the one in his hair coming to his cheek.

He kept his eyes on hers, trying to read her thoughts. He knew this wasn’t a good idea, to be involved with Lady Noir, whether as himself or Aphid. But he was tired of not getting anything he wanted. Of putting himself last. Of being either placed on a pedestal or cast aside like he was nothing, a shiny trophy collecting dust in a case, a perfect doll past its prime.

Her lips parted. She leaned forward, testing the air between them. He stayed still. This decision would be hers, not his. He would never force himself on her.

She pressed a kiss at the corner of his lips, almost causing him to lurch forward as she whispered, “We wouldn’t work out.”

“It wouldn’t,” he whispered back.

Her eyelashes fluttered against his forehead as her lips found his temple. “This is a mistake.”

He forced his hands not to come up to pull her close. He trembled from the effort. “I know.”

Her lips came back to his, hovering, brushing against his. “I want you to be seen.”

“Please,” he begged.

Her lips descended on his, slow and tempting. She was clever with her tongue. He couldn’t hold back the groan building in the back of his throat.

It wasn’t how he expected her to kiss. He’d expected ferocity. Sharp, strong fingers that searched too far and took everything. But her kiss was tender, like she was trying to breathe him back to life with a shower of affection.

Kissing Marinette was a sort of sunlit perfection. They fit together in a way he didn’t think was possible, and yet he’d stuffed down all his potential feelings for her so that while the kiss filled him contentedly, it was something he tried not to crave.

Their kisses felt too similar.

“More,” he said in between kisses, afraid of the admittance.

“Can you handle more?”

He shuddered.

“What do you want, Adrien?”

There wasn’t a hint of abrasiveness in her tone. She wanted to please him.

He led her until her back was pressed against the window.

He opened his eyes long enough to see a flash of lightning, seeing his own reflection. If only it had been Aphid’s. He craned his head down, this time plotting a path down the side of her neck, unexplored territory. She let out a hitch of breath. It gave him a shot of pleasure, knowing he could make someone so strong sound so fragile. That she could trust him not to break her when she was most vulnerable.

Then she pulled his face back to hers. Lady Noir was lust itself.

He didn’t know if it was because of her Miraculous or if she was just good at this. Their dynamic shifted and she took control, her claws sinking into his stomach underneath his shirt. He grasped a handful of her hair, trying to be gentle, even when she wasn’t.

Her eyes were smug and hungry. She knew the power she had over him.

On a particularly teasing bite, he started shaking, his eyes meeting hers.

They glinted in the dark. “You’re looking at me like a mouse.”

“Going to devour me?”

“I just might.”

He wondered why he wanted that. With Chloe, he hadn’t wanted her to touch him, ever. With Marinette, he hadn’t wanted to go further (or tired not to). And yet with Lady Noir, someone who could never share her full self with him, he wanted…what? To let someone else take the lead and be in control, simply because he trusted them? Because he respected her? Because he was sick of always having to lead? Because why?

She broke the kiss before he did, sensing something was wrong. She always seemed to know.

“I did say we shouldn’t have,” she murmured, picking up his hand and kissing it before placing it on her cheek.

He watched her, dazed. She could somehow be seductive, apologetic, patient, and understanding at the same time. He knew she wouldn’t make any moves on him again and she wouldn’t make him feel bad about this.

“Why did you let me talk you into kissing me?” he asked.

She smiled, a sad little line. “You’re easy to love, Adrien. Please think better of yourself.”

Does that mean you love me? he wanted to ask. But no, of course she didn’t love him like that. She was just looking out for him. Trying to give him some love to get him by, to help him love himself.

And yet she wasn’t someone who made out with just anyone. She’d told Aphid she was in love with someone else. He wasn’t sure if that meant they reciprocated or not, though. He hadn’t ever asked her, but his guess was she wasn’t really as experienced as she pretended.

Her kiss had said otherwise. She’d known what he’d liked.

He bit the inside of his lip, embarrassed. “I’m glad you came to see me.”

“You don’t have to lie.”

“No, I really am.” He caressed her face. “You give me the strength to know who I am. Without you, I…I wouldn’t be me.”

It sounded too intense, but it was true. Aphid wouldn’t be anything without her.

He wished he could tell her who he was. She deserved to know. No more secrets. But with Hawk Moth out there, it was out of the question.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” she asked.

“You really want to? After that?”

She nodded, looking like a little lost kitten.

"Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Adrien didn’t really believe her, but didn’t press it. He led her to his bedroom. She paused at the doorway, her eyes taking in every piece of furniture, every bit of him.

He didn’t force her forward, but lingered next to her, watching her adjust to the new space.

It was weird to him, how it wasn’t even a thought to invite Lady Noir into his bed. He was such a private person who’d never let anyone into his room before. But here he was, grateful for her presence.

He got into bed first, holding back a sigh of relief when she crawled in next to him. He kissed her hand. He ran his fingers along her palm, down her wrist.

After a long time, she said, “I still wish we could love the right people. And that they would love us.”

So the person she loved didn’t return her feelings? He locked his jaw, annoyed at whoever it was to be so stupid. “Sounds like he doesn’t deserve you.”

“He’s done more than I could repay.”

He couldn’t help but shrivel his nose, trying not to think about the fact that she loved someone else and was kissing him. He wasn’t mad at her about it, but it also didn’t seem fair to either one of them.

“Are you jealous?” she asked.

He knew she wasn’t trying to make him jealous. It was weird to hear her so nonchalant about it when as Aphid she pouted about his lack of caring incessantly.

“I don’t know,” he murmured. “I knew I didn’t have a shot with you. Even if you liked me, I know you couldn’t give up your secret identity. A relationship wouldn’t work.” He turned his head. “What happened to you and Aphid?”

“I told him I didn’t love him anymore. Not that he ever loved me.”

His stomach sunk. “I think he’s in love with you now.”

“Why do you think that?”

“He’s different.” He looked up at the ceiling. “I met him this one time lately. You guys had just fought an akuma and you were going to transform back and he just watched you leave. He just stood there, even after he couldn’t see you anymore.”

And he had stood there, staring up at the spot where she’d disappeared, like she’d been a shooting star that he’d spotted right before it’d disappeared, far too quickly to make a wish.

“That doesn’t really mean anything. We watch out for each other, that’s all,” she said. “Besides, we wouldn’t work out either. Neither of us can know our secret identities.”

“I’m sorry it’s so complicated for you.”

“Do you think love for people really ever fades?” she asked.

“Definitely.”

“Wow, how romantic.”

He couldn’t help but smile as he turned to face her. “I think it depends. Sometimes we think we love people and we don’t.”

“I meant when it’s real.”

“And how do you know if it’s real or just some hopeful delusion?”

Her eyes softened. “If they’re real, you know.”

He wasn’t exactly sure what she meant, but it still resonated with him. This moment was real. She was real. And to him, that meant some part of him, no matter how small, would love Lady Noir forever. Maybe his memory of it would fade with time, maybe he’d be able to go without thinking of that piece of him that was hers, but regardless, it belonged to her now.

“Yeah.” He closed his eyes, his breathing beginning to slow. “Aphid’s definitely in love with you.”

She inched closer, cuddling into him. He adjusted his body, his heart full.

The last thing she said as he drifted into unconsciousness was, “I like being in your arms.”

She was gone in the morning.

Chapter Text

Leaving Adrien’s bed had been torture. All Lady Noir had wanted to do was snuggle up to him and be his perfect kitten forever.

But the sun was starting to come up and she wasn’t really sure what would happen if she stayed. Besides, she had to beat him to dance practice. Her best sleep always happened when she was with him, though. Which was a real shame, considering she’d only slept in his bed twice.

Lady Noir brushed a quick kiss on top of Adrien’s head before sneaking out his window, heading home long enough to shower, grab some food for both of them, and rush to the studio.

She laid all her belongings down, fingers fidgeting. Marinette really wasn’t sure what to do with herself. All she knew is that she loved Adrien and that kissing him without him knowing who she was or how she felt probably wasn’t the best idea.

But wow, had his kiss been euphoric.

Every nerve tried to launch itself out of her body as Adrien stepped through the door. He still looked half asleep, his hair mussed. It made her wonder if he’d purposefully not combed through it this morning, as if he’d wanted it to stay exactly how it’d been with Lady Noir’s fingers in it.

Stop being stupid. He was probably just running late and it hadn’t been some romantic gesture, Marinette chided herself.

“Good morning,” she greeted, handing him his usual breakfast order.

He yawned, taking a lethargic bite.

“Good dreams?” she asked.

His eyes slid over her, as if she could possibly have an ulterior motive for asking (she did). “I don’t usually remember my dreams.”

She tried to keep the disappointment off her face. But what had she been expecting? Why yes, I made out with Lady Noir last night. It was the best night of my life.

Yeah, no. Adrien had more tact than that. And it really wasn’t appropriate conversation, given both of them were essentially cheating on their fake relationship—

Why was her life so complicated?

Marinette nibbled on her croissant, deciding to drop getting anything out of him. Today could be a normal day with her fake boyfriend as she lied with every breath about her double life.

As he took another bite, he said, “You have something on your neck.”

She almost hissed as she realized that what he’d seen was something he’d done to her.

And it definitely wasn’t something Marinette’s fake vanilla boyfriend version of Adrien would have done.

The only way she could think to hide it was to go to the bathroom and apply some makeup. She grabbed her bag, which wasn’t at all discreet, and said, “I think I got some food on it or something. I’ll go wash it off.”

Before he could say anything, she skittered out the door, making sure to lock the bathroom as soon as she was in it.

Plagg flew out of her bag. “Some food? More like you were the food.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Do you have to be gross?”

“Do you have to keep visiting Adrien at night while wearing my suit?”

“I’m not doing it to be a pain,” she argued, taking out her makeup kit. “I’m in love with the guy.”

“Then maybe tell him how you feel.”

“We’ve gone over this.”

“You holders make everything so much harder than it has to be.”

“Gee, Plagg. Maybe it’s because we have secret identities to uphold to prevent the world from falling into utter chaos.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“You literally ended the dinosaurs because one of them, in your words, looked at you funny.”

“And now no one else ever has to get looked at by their glassed over beady eyes ever again. You’re welcome.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, counting to ten before asking, “How does my neck look now?”

“Like you didn’t spend your night with your boyfriend, unbeknownst to your boyfriend.”

“Great.” She put the makeup away. “If you didn’t notice, I packed you extra cheese today considering I was transformed all night.”

“I noticed.”

“Then why are you being such a little curd?” It was her favorite Plagg related insult.

He crossed his arms, unamused. “I’m not. I just care. And you’re being destructive, and, believe me, I know all about destruction.”

Marinette held up her hands, which Plagg landed in. She rubbed the top of his head. “I’m sorry for worrying you. I promise I’m not doing it to self-sabotage myself. I just…don’t really know what I’m doing.” She bit her lip. “How about I promise to tell him how I feel after the competition?”

“Adrien said he loves Lady Noir.”

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “…I’m not sure how true that is. Lady Noir is barely there for him.”

“And Marinette didn’t exactly pamper him for a very long time,” Plagg reminded her.

“I know. Either way, he deserves my honesty.” She squared her shoulders. “It won’t be long now.”

“And will you be seeing Adrien again in the dead of night?”

She definitely wanted to, but it wasn’t a good idea for either of them. “I can’t promise I’ll never go again, Plagg, but I’m not going to make a habit of it.”

“Good.” He nuzzled her cheek momentarily, then floated away. “You better go before Adrien gets suspicious.”

Plagg flew back into his hiding spot and she walked back onto the dance floor, where Adrien was warming up.

“You were in there a while,” he said. “Everything with your neck okay?”

“Yep.”

She tried not to remember the way it’d felt. Her back pressed to the window, the raindrops slowly trickling down, cool against her heated suit. The whimper she’d let out. The way he’d responded so eagerly to the noise, tasting—

Marinette closed her eyes, trying to shut down the memories as she got to stretching.

“Sleep well?” Adrien asked.

Her leg had wrapped around his hip, his hand lifting underneath, her other leg following without hesitation, her whole weight supported by his impressive arms. Her chin had tipped up, eyes squeezed tight shut, his breathing heavy, uneven, like every touch stole everything in his lungs, her claws ripping down his back. Despite her ferocity and his desire, his lips had been delicate, his tongue sending tingles up the back of her neck. “Yeah. You?”

Adrien kept glancing at her from the barre. She couldn’t really decipher what he was thinking, but all of a sudden it felt like she was hiding from him. Which she was. Intentionally, for her secret identity’s sake. The other times she’d met him as Lady Noir, it hadn’t felt like such a big deal, but after last night…

If he loved Lady Noir, wouldn’t it be easier for them to be together? If he knew that he was really in love with her and she was in love with him? Or would he be upset at her for keeping secrets?

Not that she could tell him. If he got akumatized, Hawk Moth would use him to get to her. Hawk Moth would know who she was.

Marinette rose from the floor, robotically going to her partner and hugging herself to him. His arms went around her automatically without a word. Like he didn’t care that she was hurting.

The complete opposite of last night.

What was it about Lady Noir that he loved so much? Yeah, she’d been there for him in his dark moments, but it’s not like she wasn’t there for him as Marinette. He seemed so comfortable around her as Marinette. He was able to talk about his mom, something he claimed he couldn’t do with other people. So why did everything have to feel so shallow between them still, despite everything they’d been through?

Maybe it was selfish of her to want more. Maybe she hadn’t earned it. But she didn’t want just comfort and friendship. She wanted the side of Adrien that confessed how he felt, what he wanted, and she wanted to give it to him. As Marinette, not as Lady Noir.

Or was it the seduction that was so important to him? She was sure he probably enjoyed it, but couldn’t imagine it being one of his top priorities. And maybe he wasn’t seductive with Marinette because, newsflash, they weren’t actually dating. He was being polite, as usual.

She liked when he wasn’t so gentle.

It almost made her want to try flirting with him, giving him the most Lady Noir behavior she could without leading him on, but she already knew it was a fool’s errand. She couldn’t accidentally reveal her identity. Besides, he’d confessed to Lady Noir last night, not Marinette.

“You’re still okay with us fake dating?” she asked.

“We’ve gone over this.”

His tiredness was a bit abrasive. She tried not to flinch. “I know, but you can always change your mind. You have that right.”

“The competition is almost over. Only a few weeks left.”   

And then what would happen? The way he was acting now, he didn’t want anything to do with her. And sure, maybe they were actually friends, but it was reminding her of how he’d run from Chloe. How distant he’d described himself when he was with her.

“I…” But she couldn’t tell him she loved him. Not when she knew she’d be rejected as Marinette and it’d just make it awkward for everyone. “I’m really grateful for you, Adrien. And if there’s anything I could ever do for you, I want to do it.”

His expression softened. He kissed her forehead. “How about we get some ice cream and then play board games or video games at my place?”

It kind of surprised her, that he’d invite her over after what had happened with Lady Noir last night. That he seemed to want to spend time with her still. “That sounds great.”

“I’m sure if we visited Andre everyone in Paris will freak out. We can post some photos to our social media and it’ll get some votes.”

Her hopes disintegrated. So it really was just for the show.

“And then,” he leaned close, “I’ll kick your butt at Mario Kart.”

Her lip wobbled, tears threatening to start in her eyes. She nodded.

“Hey.” His hands came to her shoulders. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah.” She sniffed. “I’m just a sore loser.”

“Don’t worry, Slippers. I’m sure you’ll win at least one round.”

No matter if she won a round or not, she wasn’t sure she’d get what she wanted without any strings attached.

It didn’t matter in the end. The competition was ending soon and they’d be going their separate ways. She might as well start getting used to not dating Adrien now, which meant going absolutely cold turkey when it came to everything unrelated to being in front of a camera.

“I was just thinking…when we’re done with the competition and I’m in a company, you’ll have to see whatever show I’m doing.”

The smile on his face vanished. “Oh, right.”

“Do you not think I’ll get into one?”

“No, it’s not that at all. It’s just…I haven’t really thought about after the competition yet. I’ve been really focused on our dancing that I guess I forgot life outside of this exists.”

It was almost heartwarming to hear that. Almost. “Yeah. I know we can win, thanks to all the votes fake dating is getting us.” She hated admitting that that’s all their relationship was. “Which means I’m sure I’ll get a lot of different choices.”

“I’m happy for you.”

He didn’t sound happy.

“I’m going to try to stay in Paris,” she said, because she had to. Paris needed Lady Noir. “So we can still hang out, even when we break up.”

“Break up?” he repeated.

“Yeah.” Because why would he want a fake relationship? “You’ve had to put up with enough of me as it is.”

“It’s not like that at all,” Adrien argued.

“I guess we do get along now.” Her throat tightened. “I really appreciate you doing all the boyfriend things with me. It’s been nice. Believable.”

You could tell him how you felt now, she thought to herself. But it wasn’t really fair for him, even if he did end up accepting her feelings. She was a superhero. She could never be fully honest with him and, without spending hours a day with him, constantly training for performances, it felt like asking if her bucket of self-centered blood, sweat, and tears, with the added bonus of lies, was a fair trade for all his love.

It wasn’t. At all. And she knew it.

His face had hardened in some mixture of pain and anger that she didn’t understand. Before she could stop herself, she stretched up on her toes, kissing his cheek. “Thank you for everything, Adrien. I’m going to enjoy being your girlfriend until the end.”

Then you’ll get your life back. She went to pick up her bag. “We should take the day off. Since Parisians find romance to be more vote worthy than talent, we might as well go find Andre now. Really milk it.”

Because I want as much time with you like this as I can get, as selfish as it is.

“Sure thing, Slippers.” He retrieved his pack. “Whatever you want.”

He slipped out the door without another word. She swallowed past the hard lump in her throat. One break up down, one to go.

                                                                           /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Adrien lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his hand brushing the spot where Lady Noir had been next to him. Occasionally, a kwami would fly over, and he could hear them talking and giggling in the background of his thoughts, but otherwise, he was too absorbed in his pouting to care.

It was annoying, too, to basically be pouting over two different girls in basically equal measure. What kind of ridiculous guy crap was he pulling on them without even trying to?

“I wish she’d stop leaving in the middle of the night,” Adrien said.

Tikki landed on his arm. “She has a secret identity to maintain.”

“I know, but I still wish she would at least say bye.”

“Why not just be with Marinette? Wouldn’t that be easier?” Tikki asked.

“You heard her this afternoon. She doesn’t love me like that.”

“You won’t know until you ask her.”

“She made it very clear that she’s desperate to stop dating me as soon as she possibly can,” Adrien argued. “Plus I don’t want to bring up my feelings while the show is still going on and ruin her focus. It’s almost over, then after it’s over, she’s going to move away to do some dance thing and I’ll be left in the dust.”

He’d been thinking about that more and more. She’d made it clear since the very beginning that she wanted to go places. Sure, she said she’d try to stay in Paris, but as Parisian as Marinette was, he couldn’t really imagine her staying rooted in the city for the rest of her career. Dancers usually travelled around a lot when their shows toured.

He could declare his feelings after the show and, if he was lucky, she’d let him tag along on whatever adventure she had next. That is, if he wasn’t Aphid. Which he was.

Adrien rolled over slowly, careful not to frighten Tikki, his eyes falling to the wrinkles of the sheets Lady Noir had made. “I know I can’t date Lady Noir as me either. But…”

It was so nice, having her visit. Being close to her. Having someone who understood what it was like to live with people constantly misjudging him, criticizing or fondling his body.       

He knew it was wrong to even consider the idea of dating Lady Noir, but they could make it work. After he was sure he was over Marinette, he could pursue Lady Noir, whether as Adrien or Aphid. Whichever she was more comfortable with. Whichever she wanted (if she wanted). Because she had wanted him once.

His fingers traced the curve of the sheets, molded to Lady Noir’s body. He took a deep breath, remembering the feel of her in his arms. How right it was, to hold her.

When he opened his eyes, Lady Noir stood at the side of his bed, staring at him.

“You’re back,” he breathed, hope igniting in his chest as he scrambled to stand up opposite of her. He wasn’t really sure what the hope was for, exactly. They’d established last night that there was no way they could be together, at least if he was Adrien. But after feeling like he lost Marinette, he was desperate to have someone there to piece him back together.

His lady always did. His lady was always by his side. How easy would it be, to start up a relationship with her? He could, as Aphid. So long as she loved Aphid, he could convince her. Win her over. She liked him enough has Adrien, right? She’d loved him as Aphid before.

Or am I treating her like my back up? he asked himself. Did he really love her? Was he just so desperate to be loved, he’d take whichever of the two girls that had shown him a speck of attention without making him feel like a bug under a microscope?

He’d figure it out. He’d learn to love her as she deserved. And if she denied any romantic feelings for him, he’d eventually get over it.

Maybe.

But for now, he’d try his best. Unless she told him to do otherwise.

From one look at her averted eyes, he could tell she wasn’t visiting for something as mundane as cuddles. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve decided to stop visiting you.” She peeked at him. “Except for this visit, which is a visit to tell you it’s the last time.”

He processed the news slowly, not understanding. “Did I do something wrong?”

“I don’t want Hawk Moth finding out that I’m attached to you in any way.”

That came out of absolutely nowhere. “How could he? We’ve only ever met here.”

“And did the ad together. And I saved you from, well…” She graciously didn’t mention his ex’s name, but her fingers twirled an imaginary rose. “I don’t think it’s hard for anyone to piece together that I’ve picked you out as a favorite, considering I don’t exactly give men much attention.”

“You do, actually. You just don’t mean it.”

She snickered, as if she couldn’t help herself. “Jealous?”

“I am.”

Her face paled, as if she hadn’t expected honesty.

“They don’t deserve your attention,” he argued. “They don’t even know you.” He put his hands out. “Not that I’m claiming I know you, or deserve you in any way. They just make me mad and I’d rather you not encourage them.”

“I’ll put that into consideration.”

Her tone implied the subject was closed. He didn’t like the way her eyes were a steel trap, how tense her body was, like he was some enemy trying to coax secrets out of her. His own partner.

Then again, she was here to dump him. What else was he expecting?

“You know what? You’re right. This never would have worked out.” He went over to the side of the bed she was standing by, her side, starting to remake it, take out the little indents that she’d made the night before, erasing her from his life. “You’re a superhero, I’m me, and I understand that things don’t work out all the time.”

“It’s nothing you did, Adrien.”

He almost laughed. It felt like he couldn’t do anything right, even when he was being perfect. He took a breath, smoothing his hand over the final crease. “Look…I don’t want to snap at you for stupid things right now. I haven’t had the best day. You’ve come to tell me what you needed to. Thank you for not leaving me without a goodbye. But you said what you needed to say, so you can go.”

When he turned around, she was still there. He wished she’d just leave.

“If you love someone else, go love them,” he said.

Her fingers danced at her side before curling into fists.

Some answer. “Would Aphid ever have a chance with you?”

Her masked eyes narrowed. “What does that matter?”

“I guess you’d hide stuff from him too. Because you have to. In every single relationship you have, no matter if you’re Lady Noir or not.”

“No one can know.”

And no one could know him. He was absolutely doomed in his romantic life, until Hawk Moth was defeated.

“I’m glad you came to say bye,” he said thickly, plopping himself face down on his bed. “One less unrealistic thing to hope for.”

You’re easy to love, Adrien. Her words from the first time she’d shared his bed flitted through his mind. He didn’t feel easy to love. It was like everyone stayed at arm’s length, gawking, or tried to clamor for any speck of attention, thinking they loved him. That, or they were like Lady Noir and Marinette, up and leaving him, as if he were the plague they didn’t want to get caught with.

When he looked up, she was gone.

Tears spilled onto his cheeks, shame twisting in his gut for getting so emotional over something he knew was going to end badly. He was better than that. He knew better than to expect things to work out.

Why couldn’t he just be happy? Life was starting to look up, at least when it came to his “accomplishments.” He had his own place, his life decisions were all his, and Marinette and him were actually getting along well—at least he’d gone and ruined it with his feelings.

But he still was constantly worried about being found. His life was incredibly public. One video on social media spotting him and his father could come excavate him from his freedom with the snap of his fingers. It surprised him, really, that he hadn’t done that yet, given the fact that his father was still aware of which studio they trained at and Sensational’s schedule.

Adrien was living a lie.

He needed Marinette. He needed to see her and he didn’t care if she didn’t know it was him. For once, he just wanted to be truthful, even if he had to do it with a mask. Adrien transformed, hoping she’d be where she always was.

Chapter Text

Marinette listened to her slippers maneuvering across the floor, her only music. It was always special, dancing in the studio at night, alone. The rest of the world was sauntering off to bed, weary and heavy laden, while she carried on, pushing her body, allowing her muscles and limbs to wake up like the toys in The Nutcracker.

She needed to dance her feelings away. She needed to learn how to breathe by herself again, knowing all she had left with Adrien was a few precious days. If her body could dance without him, then her heart could function without him too.

She smashed down every single memory of heartbreak and betrayal on his face that came to mind and instead focused on each flexing muscle, every detail of her choreo coming to fruition.

A stumbling of footsteps that weren’t hers startled her out of her routine. She whirled around, spotting the source of the noise. 

“Aphid?” she questioned, trying to figure out why he’d be here this late at night again. But then she noticed the way he was moving, like he’d been stabbed. “Oh my God, are you hurt?”

“I was too late.”

She rushed forward, her hand coming to his abdomen, cursing the fact that his suit had to be the same color as blood. “Where did you get hurt? Is there an akuma?”

“No, it’s not that,” he said thickly, but dropped to the floor, which didn’t exactly stop her from panicking.

She inspected his body again, her fingers squeezing around her ring. Did she need to transform to help him?

“I love her,” Aphid croaked.

“Who?”

“My lady.”

The agony and possession of his declaration sent her reeling. He loved…Lady Noir? She almost asked if he meant romantically, but there was no mistaking his pain.

She wracked her brain through conversations they’d had lately, trying to find any differences in his words or actions that would have tipped her off to this sort of emotional breakdown, finding none. They hadn’t even spoken in a few days, given an abnormal lull of akumas.

Marinette touched his shoulder, a ridiculously pathetic attempt to console him, while he buried his head into his arms.

He looked so desperate and beaten up about it. She removed her hand and hovered over him, not sure how to provide any comfort, somewhat wanting to smack him for not telling her. “How long?”

“Around the time that girl, Chloe, got akumatized. I was about to tell her, but she told me she was in love with someone else.”

The worst timing ever. She took a breath. “Maybe she thought she was burdening you with her feelings, so she moved on.”

“I used to get so upset about her being seductive with me.” His voice was thick. “Like she was pretending for the public or something. When I first met her, she wasn’t that intense with her flirting. And I never sensed that it was all that genuine, that maybe she was faking it to protect herself from something.”

Marinette took that in. She had flirted to protect him from the press, but she wasn’t sure why else she did it. As Marinette, her flirting was way more subtle. “Maybe she didn’t think she ever stood a chance with you, so she went all out with her flirting. So if you rejected that over-the-top version of her…”

“It wouldn’t be a real rejection,” he filled in, lifting his head. “I think you’re right.”

Marinette sunk next to him, numb. She hadn’t realized that that was the real reason. Not until she’d said it.

“My feelings have been really complicated lately,” he said. “And I can’t talk to anyone about them because I’m me.”

She snaked her hand into his, squeezing tight. She noticed a few tears had leaked onto his face. “You always hide everything you’re feeling from her, don’t you?”

“I have to be the strong one.”

Her hand clenched. “She’s plenty strong.”

“I know,” he said, apologetic. “I don’t mean it like that. It’s just…I’m the Ladybug Miraculous holder. We’re partners, we’re equals, and yet I can’t help but feel there’s more pressure on me. If something happens to me…”

Lady Noir could destroy akumas, but she didn’t have the power to reset everything to how it was supposed to be when Paris was on fire. Only Aphid could do that.

“We haven’t even seen a glimpse of Hawk Moth and it’s been months. Months of waking up in the dead of night, friends and family getting upset because I keep missing important things, getting so little sleep.” He beat his forehead against his knee. “It’s not about the recognition. I don’t care about that. But I’m so tired of being a disappointment to absolutely everyone by not defeating Hawk Moth. As if there’s any way I could possibly be doing better.”

“None of it is your fault.”

“It doesn’t matter. I still get blamed as if it is.” He hugged his legs. “I don’t want this to be my life. I’m tired of being a failure. I’m tired of being me.”

A purple butterfly flitted into the room, veering towards them.

“Aphid!”

She pushed at him, trying to knock him out of the way, but he was all muscle and she wasn’t transformed.

The akuma flew into his earring.

“No!” She gripped his shoulders. “You have to fight it. I know things look bad right now, but you are not letting anyone down. You’re not letting me down.”

He looked at her then, desperate. She continued, “You’re my hero. You’re so steady. So amazingly talented. So you.” Her breathing pitched. “I wouldn’t be who I am without you, Aphid. You keep me safe. You’re always there for me.”

You’re my partner, she wanted to say.

Out of words, she kissed him. He let out a strangled choke, but she kept her mouth on his, letting her hands run through his hair, down his neck, across his cheeks.

“Stay with me, Aphid,” she murmured. “Everything will be all right. Stay with me.”

He melted into her after a few seconds. She heard the flutter of wings escaping and was about to pull away, her job done, but he deepened the kiss.

Oh.

This wasn’t what she’d been expecting. She hadn’t meant to manipulate his feelings (she knew he would prefer being tricked than being akumatized), but here he was, continuing the moment as if he hadn’t just been used as a puppet by the person who could have ended him forever.

The sensation of his touch was making it hard to think about anything.

She didn’t understand how her body reacted so explosively to both Adrien and Aphid. They were her only kisses, so she didn’t have anything else to compare it to. She’d never even wanted to kiss anyone else, much less think it’d be a fantastic experience. But for some reason, it felt right kissing both of them despite how absolutely wrong it was. Marinette wanted her heart to belong to one person, not two.

She forced the heartache down as she matched his eagerness, or tried to. It was ironic, how shy she felt now when he was the complete opposite. His touch was far more possessive than she’d thought it’d be. He was like a desert wanderer who’d stumbled upon an oasis seconds before dying, drinking her in, barely giving himself enough time to breathe.

Her breath hitched, her body adjusting to his, pulling closer, into his lap. She’d wanted this so badly as Lady Noir and she was finally getting it. She was his partner, whether he knew it or not, and she was still wholeheartedly devoted to him.

His one hand came to the small of her back, climbing in a sensationally slow crawl, his fingertips pressing ever so slightly to her spine as his teeth nipped at her lip. She’d never thought of him as anything other than a gentle lover and her body didn’t know how to react other than trembling. Out of fear or desire, she didn’t know, but it spurned her on either way.

Marinette was too afraid to touch his chest, even with his suit, and instead wound her hands up his back, amazed by the muscled contours, the absolute power that radiated out of him as he kissed her deeper. She sunk her hands into his hair, lost in him.

When his lips came to her ear, she didn’t think her body could ever move again. She gripped his arms, tight, trying to hold herself together. Hold herself to him. She didn’t ever want him to let her go.

His eyelashes were beautiful, fanned sacredly over his magnetic eyes that were currently closed in rapture. She’d been kidding herself to think he’d lost all of his power over her. She’d follow him to the ends of the world.

She cupped his cheeks, pulling his mouth back to hers, wanting to return the favor.

He gasped and pulled away. His fingertips brushed his mouth. “No.”

For a moment, she sat there in his lap, confused. The word “no” didn’t make sense. Not after what they’d just shared. He picked her gently off his lap and deposited her right in front of him, wearing an expression of absolute distaste.

Her gut curled in on itself, stung by the sudden rejection. Her eyes must be dilated. Dazed, she tried to put him at ease. “It was just a kiss. It’s fine.”

Last she’d heard, he was in love with Lady Noir anyway. Who just so happened to be her, the girl who was supposedly in love with Adrien Agreste, who had just kissed Aphid like he was still her everything.

Who had kissed her with absolute utter devotion.

“No. Hawk Moth knows that I kissed you.” His eyes widened. “He might target you now. He might know you mean something to me.”

She stayed rooted on the spot, processing what she could possibly mean to him. Why he would come here to see her. Trying to figure out how to word it in a way that wouldn’t hurt him.

“We don’t really know each other though.” She paused. “Right?”

Marinette couldn’t even think of the possibilities of who he could be under the mask. Had never dreamed that she might actually know him in real life. Paris had over two million people. There was no way she’d know him. If anything, he was probably just some fan who’d seen her on the show. He probably had a friend or sibling that talked about her if he didn’t watch Sensational himself. He knew she’d made Aphid Day for him. Maybe it was just some sort of crush he had to get out of his system.

Right?

“Right.” He stood shakily. “We don’t know each other. But the fact that I’m here, that your kiss stopped me from being akumatized…”

“You think he’ll take revenge.”

His jaw locked, his eyes darkening with guilt.

“I haven’t been akumatized before,” she said. “I know that doesn’t mean that I’m safe from ever having my emotions used against me, but I don’t think he’s going to get the chance.”

“You’re a pretty public figure right now, Marinette. What if he tries to ruin the show? Your reputation? What if he hurts you so you can’t dance anymore?”

It was the last one that sent her head spinning. She shook it. She was Lady Noir. Even if he got to her as Marinette, she could find a way out and transform. That, or Aphid would come for her. “I trust you.”

“I don’t want to be trusted with lives.”

She stood, touching his cheek. “To be clear, if anything happened to me, it’s his fault, not yours. Same goes for everyone else in the city. This has never been your fault.”

“I can’t even panic about it or he’ll be back,” he said thickly.

She stepped closer, cupping his cheeks. “I believe in you, Aphid. With everything I’ve got.”

His eyes came to hers. Doubtful of himself. After a moment, he took her hand, kissing her knuckles. “Thank you.”

Marinette froze. Lady Noir was the only one whose knuckles she’d ever seen him kiss. Did that mean he knew?

Aphid’s fingers grazed her hand before pulling away. “If someone close to you was keeping a secret, would you forgive them?”

She thought he was testing her. Seeing if she’d reveal her identity. But no. She’d been so careful with it. There was no way he’d know who she was and, if he did, there’d be no way he wasn’t panicking over it or treating her differently. Not with Hawk Moth at large.

“Depends on the secret.” She started touching each of the spots on his arm absentmindedly. “I don’t think anyone should ever be upset at you for being Aphid. I know they can’t know.”

“Not until Hawk Moth is taken down.”

“And he will be. This isn’t going to last forever.” She placed her hand over his heart. “I believe in you.”

His shoulders untensed. He pulled her into a hug. “Thank you, Marinette.”

“Anytime.”

She wondered again if she loved him. If she ever stopped loving him. If she ever could. And what that meant for her and Adrien.

Not that it mattered because regardless of the amount of kisses she received, no one loved her. At least not like that.     

                                                                          /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Adrien didn’t sleep that night. He was terrified of being akumatized. Instead, he binge watched Tikki’s list of happiest movies with a few of the kwamis that had not drifted off to sleep throughout the night. He didn’t allow himself to think about anything negative. He simply watched old classics that he’d never heard of before, occasionally scooping up a sleeping kwami and putting them on his pillows in the other room.        

He thought through his life factually when needed. He would go to dance in the morning. He would see Marinette. He wouldn’t emotionally react to anything that happened. He would make sure she was okay and then dance the rest of the day. He would catch up on sleep tomorrow night.

He was fine. Absolutely fine.

He showed up early at the studio the next morning, not thinking of the incident at all. He stretched as if it were a meditation. He went through the lyrics for their routine in his mind. He envisioned the choreo.

“You okay?” Adrien asked the second he saw Marinette.

It sucked to have to ask her so indifferently when last night was his fault.

She strode over, plopping her bag down. “I’m good. How about yourself?”

He took in the shadows under her eyes, her more timid posture. Sure, she probably felt the need to keep Aphid’s time with her a secret, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t at least tell Adrien that she was having a slightly off day, even if the reason why wasn’t the truth. “I’m good.”

He really was a hypocrite.

Adrien went back to stretching. The same repetition of movements, over and over. Straight arms and legs, pointed toes, deep breaths. Last night hadn’t ruined him. Hadn’t been a reminder of how potent his feelings for Marinette were. Hadn’t been a test of his will as he said to hell with responsibility and started sucking on her earlobe, something he’d never done with her before because he’d been too scared of crossing their fake damn lines to voice that he actually wanted to be with her, wanted to please her, wanted her to stay.

He pointed his toes as hard as he could. The agonizing kiss scarred deeper, but he pretended not to feel the burn. He was completely fine.

“Adrien?”

“Yeah?”

“If I kissed someone else, would you be mad?”

So she was going to be honest with him. He found it funny that she’d given him a whole spiel about how she was breaking up with him the first possible second but wanted to know if he’d be mad. “We’re not really dating, Slippers. The only reason I’d have the right to be mad at you is if you got caught and ruined our chances of winning or if it hurt you.”

“That’s dumb,” she muttered.

“I’d be a toxic fake boyfriend if I was upset at you when you don’t belong to me.”

Saying that was like trying to swallow rocks.

“It still wouldn’t be fair to you.”

He shook his head, wishing she’d stop talking about it. “I don’t know why you’re bringing up a rhetorical situation.”

“I kissed Aphid.”

He wasn’t exactly sure what sort of reaction he would be having right now if he’d been coming into this situation blind and wasn’t exactly full of energy to fake it. “How did you two meet?”

“He comes here sometimes. Not much. Twice. Anyway, the point is he was about to be akumatized, so I kissed him.”

“So that’s the new Paris version of CPR?”

“It’s not funny,” she retorted. “Do you know how serious that would have been?”

He wished he didn’t. “No, it’s not funny. You did the right thing and I’m sure he was glad you were there to prevent Hawk Moth from winning.”

She formed fists. “Why don’t you seem even a little bit surprised or upset or anything about this?”

“It’s not you, Slippers. I think I’m going through a depressive episode again.” Which seemed like a better alternative to being almost akumatized for expressing himself. “And I’m sorry if that hurts your feelings, but that’s just how I get.”

Because he was freaking Aphid, hero of Paris, master of secrets and lies who couldn’t just be in love with one singular girl and, even if he was, he couldn’t tell her or be with her anyway.

But he was fine. He could stay peachy, as Mr. Banana demanded.

“I’m sorry that I’m mad, it’s just it makes me feel like you don’t care. And I know you do.”

He tried to get back to his more rational self. “So does that mean Hawk Moth might try to use you now?”

“Maybe. That’s what Aphid thought.”

“I can’t exactly protect you, Marinette. That’s going to have to be Aphid’s job, and your own, given that you alone can control your emotions.”

No pressure to either of them.

“I hope he doesn’t target you if he targets me.”

“I’m not worried about it.” Though, really, maybe he should be. He was clearly already emotionally raw, which Hawk Moth probably picked up on. With him being so close to Marinette, it just might get him akumatized as Adrien, which was just as bad as getting akumatized as Aphid.

And if Hawk Motb did want to cause a scene through Sensational it was only a matter of time before he struck.

“We’ll try to be positive,” Adrien said. “We can make some herbal tea and watch Disney movies where the parents don’t die. It’ll be great.”

Her expression turned stony. “He kissed me, Adrien.”

He wasn’t sure why she said it like she was accusing him, Adrien, of something. Or was she saying it like she wished Aphid hadn’t kissed her back, like he’d been coming onto her?

But he couldn’t exactly get worked up about it right now. Not with Hawk Moth most likely focusing all his powers on this studio, searching for more weakness. So he changed the subject. “Let’s dance.”

The beginning of the routine was decent, but by the middle, she was sagging. Not that he was flawless, but at Marinette’s level, a tiny imperfection was like a gaping wound.

On a particularly difficult part of the choreo that required perfect timing, she missed her mark, smacking into him.

The force of her look almost sent him crumpling to the ground. Like he was abandoning her. But he kept his feet, surprised as Marinette dropped like a sack of potatoes.

“Are you okay?” he asked, shutting down his fear.

She stayed on the ground, nodding.

He knelt down. “Did you hurt yourself at all?”

“No.”

“…Did he hurt you?” Adrien croaked out, fighting back tears that he couldn’t have. That he wasn’t allowed to feel.

She reeled back. “Of course he didn’t.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

Her eyes vacated, like empty picture frames.

He gripped her shoulders. “You can’t get akumatized, Marinette.” Unwillingly, he forced her chin up, her eyes on his. “I’m here. We’re here together. I’ve got you.”

“I don’t want him getting hurt because of me.”

“He’s not going to be hurt by you.” Which, yet again, wasn’t true. “He’s going to come up with a plan to get Hawk Moth.”

“Hawk Moth’s not exactly on social media tagging his location.”

“No. But Aphid will find him. I promise.”

He helped her to her feet. He blinked, realizing they were in the same exact spot they’d kissed the night before.

When she pulled away, she touched her lips, then looked at her fingers, as if she’d see some sort of distinguishable mark Aphid’s had left, staining anything else they touched. He tried to shake off the flurry of emotions that constricted his heart.

“Let’s get back to the choreo.” Adrien went back to his starting position. “We have a lot to go through.”

She let her hand trail to her ear next despite not a hair being out of place. “Right.”

He ended up leading their practice, forcing himself not to get frustrated as she daydreamed through their routine, a walking zombie of floppy limbs and sloppier technique.

But he was fine. They were fine. Everything would be fine.

Aphid would make sure of it.

                                                                              /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

When Aphid saw Lady Noir next, his first words were, “We need to stop Hawk Moth.”

He was pleased when all she did was agree.

It was the first time he’d seen her as Aphid since she’d said goodbye to him as Adrien. She was clearly still processing, or going through whatever else in her personal life. He tried not to think about it, given he was trying not to think of absolutely anything that wasn’t as emotionally bland as rice cakes.

They stood in the shadows of a roof, thinking through how to use the Miraculous to find him. With his lack of sleep, he didn’t think any plan he came up with would be brilliant, but he needed some sort of hope to be able to function.

“Isn’t there a time travel Miraculous?”

“Lost.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Apparently some other holder has it from another time.”

“And that’s not concerning?”

“The kwamis say she’s on our side.”

“Way to help us out, mystery holder,” Lady Noir muttered. “That could have been such an easy fix.”

“Since when is anything ever easy for us?”

“The Miraculous of the Dog,” Lady Noir said suddenly. “What if we touched it to the akuma—”

“It retrieves the object it touches, not whoever created the object.”

She crossed her arms. “There has to be a way to follow the guy.”

“What about the Miraculous of the Rooster? We can use Sublimation to get whatever superpower we want, right? So long as it’s not one that a Miraculous already possesses?”

“Yeah.”

“What if we had a way to track whoever we wanted?”

Aphid’s eyes flew open. “That might work.” He opened his yo-yo, pulling out the Rooster Miraculous, a thumb ring. “Hey, Orriko?”

Orriko flew out of it, floating in midair. “Yes, Guardian?”

“Are you able to grant your holder the ability to find whoever they wanted?”

“That’s a bit too broad. You could ask for a super smell power, but you would have to have something they touched to track them. And even then, if you wanted to use it on Hawk Moth, the power wouldn’t work after he detransformed.”

Aphid held back a swear.

“Hawk Moth has to touch the butterfly to make it an akuma, right? We could try it,” Lady Noir said. “After you purify the akuma, you could unify with Orriko and use the ability.”

“I’m sorry, Lady Noir, but I don’t think that would work,” Orriko replied. “While Hawk Moth most likely touched the akuma before and after its transformation, my powers wouldn’t be able to work on a living thing, only objects.” He rubbed his neck. “Not to mention I can’t grant a power that would disrupt another kwami’s.”

“You know,” Lady Noir crossed her arms, “for a kwami who should be able to do literally anything, you have a lot of loopholes.”

“Is there seriously not a single power you can think of that could help us, Orriko?” Aphid asked.

“I’m sorry, Guardian.”

“Thanks for trying.” He placed Orriko’s Miraculous back into his yo-yo and sat on the roof.

“I don’t think he tried very hard.” Lady Noir sat next to him. “There has to be something we can do.”

“It doesn’t matter. Even if one of his powers would work, I don’t like the idea of using my powers once and then going into a fight with Hawk Moth right after.” He brought his knee up to his chest, leaning against it. “I’m ready to be done with all of this. The guy never comes out of hiding. Unless he does, we’re never going to find him.”

“He never wins, the way he’s playing the game now. Sooner or later he’s going to change tactics.”

“I’m not sure if I’m looking forward to that or not.”

And that was that. There was nothing they could do. He stared down at the streets, avoiding looking at her, bringing his thoughts back to the topic he’d been trying not to think about.

It was annoying that the Lady Noir that showed up at Aphid’s side was the same one who snuck into his apartment. Despite his best efforts as Aphid, she didn’t open up to him like she did to Adrien.

It also annoyed him that, at least right in this moment of time, he wasn’t actually interested in her. He’d gone to tell Marinette how he’d felt about Lady Noir just to, what, take it back? Was it because he was emotionally numbing himself, or was it that only the Adrien side of him had feelings for her? And how accurate could his measurement of emotions really be if he’d kissed Marinette the way he had?

He'd seriously botched everything. He’d always thought Lady Noir would be the one to almost reveal her identity first, not him. But with his luck, Marinette could probably piece two and two together, that the hero who kept showing up at the dance studio, who knew her dances and kissed her, was her dance partner.

“Did you want to talk about it?” she murmured.

“I…did something I shouldn’t have.” He’d rather not tell her, but she deserved to know. “I was almost akumatized and I was around a civilian when it happened. They stopped it from happening.”

If she knew the whole story, she would kill him.

“If Hawk Moth knows that you’re attached to anyone, they’re going to be in danger all the time, not just because we’re trying to find him.” She gestured to the city. “The longer he’s out there, unchecked, the more likely he’s going to use whoever it is as leverage.”

He gripped the sides of his head, as if he could squeeze out all the negative energy, or an actually good idea to stop Hawk Moth. “I don’t know what to do.”

But he did. If Marinette didn’t live in Paris, she wouldn’t be in danger. And if she won the dance competition, she’d have her chance to get out of here. And she’d take it in a heartbeat.

Which meant all he had to do to keep her safe was to dance his heart out.

Lady Noir’s hand came to his. They sat in dreaded silence, waiting for the inevitable. But at least he had a plan.

                                                                           /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

When Marinette got to the studio, Adrien was already there, standing in the doorway, waiting for her. She didn’t like the bags under his eyes.

“Hey, I’m sorry for how I reacted the other day. I’m stable now and I’m ready to be there for you. Anything you need.”

She eyed him up and down, not understanding the sudden change. Besides, it was obvious he was lying about his stability when he looked ready to keel over.

The only reasons she could really guess that he was so distraught were him worrying about her safety or the fact that she kissed Aphid. One implied general decency and the other implied a bit more.

That, or he was dealing with something totally unrelated and she was being self-centered.

Too tired to use any tact, she asked, “Does it really not bother you at all that I kissed Aphid?”

“No. The only thing that bothers me is that we haven’t been doing our best lately with this routine. I’m here and I’m going to do my best now.”

“Okay,” she replied, still not sure what to make of him.

They warmed up and started through their routine. On a particularly sloppy, disjointed series, they collided, both of them off their marks. Again.

She lifted his chin, the gentlest way to tell him to stop looking down, a habit she thought she’d help him break a long time ago. He jerked away from her hand and spun away from the mirror, hands in his hair.

“Are you okay?”

“I want to win,” he said.

She didn’t understand how his tone could sound so hollow and determined at the same time. “I do too, but I’d rather you be okay.”

“I am. Thank you.” Yet again, his voice was robotic. “If you don’t feel safe at home, you can come sleep at my place. It’s not like anyone else would be there.”

She winced. Was he simply saying he didn’t have a parental figure to chastise him for having a girl over, or secretly referring to the fact that Lady Noir had dumped him? “I’ll be okay, but thank you.”

“I know I can’t tell you what to do, but I’d feel better if you had someone with you at all times. Just in case.”

If Hawk Moth showed up. But she didn’t know what Adrien thought he could do. If anything, she wanted to protect him, not make the situation worse by having him get stuck in the crossfire. “Really, it means a lot, but I’ll be okay. Aphid and Lady Noir will make sure I’m safe.”

His jaw locked, but he nodded.

They practiced for a few hours before parting ways. Marinette rubbed her face as soon as she was alone. As much as Adrien said he wanted to do well in the competition, his moves had gone completely stiff. The smoothness and ease she’d coaxed out of him after months of refinement had rusted over, leaving her with more disjointed Pigeon bobbing moves. Not that she’d tell him that this late in the game.

And really, winning the competition was the least of her worries. All she wanted now was for everyone to be okay.

Plagg didn’t even have anything snide to say to her when she went to bed. “Don’t worry, Marinette. I’ll protect you.”

She kissed his head. “Thanks, Plagg. I just hope I can protect everyone else.”

Chapter Text

Adrien wanted to tell Marinette that he loved her, but he was terrified of being akumatized. Of getting her akumatized. Of failing.

He shoved all the thoughts away. He danced. He saved Paris. He ate, slept, and did it all again the next day. He didn’t even enjoy fake dating Marinette anymore. Not when all his emotions were taken out of the equation. As Aphid, he was as professional as possible, as was Lady Noir. Everything robotic, careful, secretive.

Marinette and Lady Noir were distant as well. Despite round three quickly approaching, Marinette went through the motions, not showing the same passion she had during round two. Not that he was helping with that, since his smiles were pasted on with cheap, dry glue that no longer stuck, his eyes always shying away from hers when they were supposed to connect. It was detrimental to their routine and obvious they weren’t on the same page like they used to be.

Unlike before round two, he didn’t suggest going anywhere in the hopes of sparking inspiration. He was afraid Hawk Moth would use it as an opportunity to attack her and he didn’t want to take the chance. She offered no solutions, leaving them to drift slowly apart despite how desperately he wanted to cling to her.

But what right did he have?

“I hate the theme of this round,” Marinette muttered to herself.

He blinked back into reality. Somehow, they were dressed and ready to go onstage. He watched her fuss with her tutu, as if she wanted to rip it off her body. The theme was masquerade. They wore masks, like last time, but their outfits had nothing to do with Lady Noir or Aphid. He couldn’t help but wish they could have chosen their own theme. Maybe it would have helped them connect better, to pick something themselves.

They stood waiting for their turn, Marinette tapping her foot next to him, arms crossed. He watched her from the corner of his eye, still unable to look at her, even when they weren’t dancing, as if he’d put her in danger again if he so much as met her gaze.

This was the finale. Everything they’d been working towards for months. And yet there wasn’t an inkling of excitement in either of them. He couldn’t speak for her nerves, but his were frayed and worn from everything else that all he had was a sickening knot of dread rotting in his gut.

But that was his new normal.

“I know we haven’t been in sync lately,” he murmured to her. “But I do want us to do our best.”

“Before we dump each other,” she said.

Adrien flinched. “You’ve got big things ahead of you. No reason to get tied down here.”

“If we win.”

“We still can win.” He faced her, letting his eyes study her forehead, the closest he could get to eye contact. “We’ve danced this choreography a thousand times. We came up with it together.”

He remembered what it was like, dancing with her when they became a couple. How enlivening it had been, to make each step in eager anticipation for her to be in his arms again. The way they’d smiled at one another, a secret language between them that he couldn’t explain.

“We’ll do our best,” Marinette said, as if she wasn’t expecting much.

“No.” He grasped at her fingers, not even taking her full hand, as if he didn’t deserve it. “We can do this.”

“Then meet my eyes.” When he hesitated, she said, “You said you’d never let me fall. To do that, you have to meet my eyes.”

He did, not liking the hurt he found in her own. The stubbornness of her dislike of him that he hadn’t seen in so long.

“You know how to dance, Adrien. Pretend you love me, like you used to, and we could win.”

His head spun. Pretend? Is that what she really thought was happening? “Marinette—”

“You’re on,” a crewmember whispered to them, pushing them onto the stage.

He almost tripped as he followed Marinette out. She smiled and waved to the crowd, but even still he could tell she was faking it. He did the same, feeling like a fraud.

They took their positions. The music started.

It’s not as if their dancing wasn’t still beautiful, but now that he had more experience, it really was like watching reanimated corpses.

He met her eyes. He lifted her with grace and proficiency. But the word pretend kept lurching into his head, making his body rust over.

Meet my eyes, he kept hearing, kept seeing every time he did, her expression just as strained as his.

Their routine came to an end.

The audience clapped, but it wasn’t like last time. His heart crumpled. He didn’t hear anything the judges had to say. He already knew their critiques, so he nodded along as if he heard and waved to the crowd when it ended.

They’d been the last to perform. The other dancers came on stage, Lila smirking at them, clearly trying to rub in their mediocre performance. He ignored her.

Adrien tightened his grip on Marinette’s delicate hand, which didn’t return the squeeze. No matter what happened, he’d find a way to make her dream come true.

“And the winners are…”

A blood curling laugh echoed throughout the studio. The audience hushed.

“Everyone has been so busy watching the finale that they forgot about me.” A woman descended, levitating herself down from the ceiling. She was beautiful, with faerie wings cresting her back, an ivy crown gracing her lush hair. “You will all dance before your faerie queen.”

Adrien tore his hand from Marinette’s, grateful that the akumatized villain’s attention was on the crowd scampering like rats towards the exits. He did the same, regretting leaving Marinette without a single word.

The lights from the ceiling crashed in front of him, sparks flying from the bulbs. Something growled from the center tunnel leading backstage. Adrien hid in the wreckage, trying to find a way he could escape without being seen.

Heavy footsteps shook the floor. He peeked out to find a stooped creature following her, twice the size of a gorilla, but with the posture and demeanor of a rhino, made of what looked like bark and moss. He shook his back, releasing golden spores. The Parisians closest threw their hands over their mouths, but that didn’t stop them from dancing, their legs and bodies wobbling as they tried to stop.

Since when did akumatized people have pets?

Adrien didn’t need to see anymore. He wriggled himself through the wreckage and sprinted backstage, rushing to the first empty room he could find backstage, slamming the door shut. “Tikki, spots—”

The door flew open. He jumped back as Marinette almost barreled into him.

Their eyes met, panicked. He couldn’t save her as Adrien.

“You stay hidden in here. I’ll lead them away,” he said.

She nodded, but not before the door opened again, the akumatized woman at the threshold.

Adrien and Marinette fought to get in front of one another. Her hand came to his, gripping it tight, like a warning not to protect her. He gave up with a grimace, ready to throw himself in front of her if it came to that.

Not that it could come to that, given Paris needed Aphid.

“The star dancers,” she murmured. Her ivy crown blossomed and flourished, in constant motion. “You’re the reason no one showed up for my recital.”

“We can go watch it now,” Adrien said. “I’d love to watch you perform.”

“It’s too late for that now. If I can’t, then everyone else must.” The thorns on her crown sharpened. “Until their feet bleed dry.”

“It’s not the whole city’s fault,” Marinette pleaded. “We really would love to watch you dance.”

“My art is of a different kind.” She backed through the doorway. “I’ll save you both for later.” She pulled out a flute. “The grand finale.”

As the door slammed shut a golden light filtered through the door as she played. Adrien and Marinette put their hands over their mouths, but the pollen didn’t slip inside.

The music faded.

“What did she do?” Marinette asked.

Adrien tried the door. “I think she magically locked us in.”

She jiggled the handle. Then again, shaking the frame. “Hello? Can someone let us out!?”

He pounded on the door. Stepped back and rammed it. His foot collided with the handle as Marinette yelled for help. Adrien looked for grates on the ceiling, lines along the wall to indicate a secret door, anything to get them out, as Marinette ran her hands over every piece of wall she could before trying the door again.

They came to the same conclusion at the same time—there was no way out. The only way was if he transformed.

Adrien waited to feel Lady Noir transform, prayed that she would maybe find him and free him so that he could help her, but she didn’t. For all he knew, she was trapped too. And as much as he wanted to wait, he couldn’t.

But he couldn’t tell Marinette his secret either.

Adrien rubbed his face, his fingers grazing his earrings. Tikki squirmed in his pocket, a constant reminder of his precarious balancing act he’d somehow been able to not drop all these months.

And now he was dropping it all.

He took a deep breath, readying himself to tell her the truth. “Marinette—”

“I’m Lady Noir.”

He stared without seeing, unable to string her words together. Maybe she hadn’t said anything. Maybe he’d been so focused on what he was about to confess that he’d made up a convoluted sentence like that. “What?”

She leaned forward, her hand coming to her chest. “I’m Lady Noir.”

Adrien started shaking his head. That was impossible. She couldn’t be Lady Noir. Not this bossy, strict girl who was so focused on dance.

A girl who constantly helped others.

A girl who worked tirelessly on Aphid Day.

A girl who came to his room in the silence and solitude of an aching night to kiss him senseless.

His mouth dried as he took in the silver ring on her finger. A ring he always ignored.

“That’s why I’m sometimes late or skip dance. I was the one you modeled with.” Her eyes stayed determined. “I’m the one who was worried about you after Chloe was akumatized and checked in with you to make sure you were okay.”

Adrien held up a hand, needing to process. He wasn’t supposed to know her secret identity. If he got akumatized, he’d tell Hawk Moth who she was. Master Fu’s note had warned about past Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous holders knowing their partner’s secret identity when another Miraculous holder had evil intent.

It never ended well.

“Why aren’t you saying anything? Adrien?”

His eyes met hers. It must have been awful, standing there waiting for his reaction. As if his opinion would ever lessen of her because she was an amazing super heroine.  

“I’m so sorry,” he said, voice thick. “But I can’t know that.”

“I don’t have a choice in the matter.” She took a step forward. “I need to get out of here and there’s no way for me to do that without my Cataclysm.”

“I was never meant to know,” he repeated, wishing she’d understand without having to spell it out for her.

Her eyes scanned him, mouth pressed thin. “Why can’t you know?”

His throat clogged, burning.

“Why can’t you know?” she repeated, her voice rising.

Their eyes locked for the briefest of moments. He’d been so careful about his identity for so long. Gotten in trouble for missing things, made sure never to have the same conversation twice, and kept his mannerisms separated. And he’d made mistakes. He’d taken risks, which was why it was upsetting that she wasn’t outright accusing him of the truth of who he really was.

He wanted her to know him well enough to know without being told.

“It’s the rule,” is all he said.

“I know it’s the rule,” she practically snapped. “Aphid wouldn’t be happy about it.”

“He isn’t happy about it.”

“Then don’t tell—” Marinette’s breath hitched, anger receding. “Him.”

The space between them remained. He stayed still, wanting to close his eyes and block out their nightmarish situation.

“No.” Her hands twitched at her side. “You’re not him.”

Were the two sides of him so different? Was he that good at pretending, or was she merely disappointed with all of him now?

“There’s no way you’re him.” The way she talked about Aphid was like he was some otherworldly, untouchable god. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“Is it really that hard to believe?”

Her voice rose again. “You’re not outright saying you’re him.”

“Because I’m not supposed to, Marinette.” It stung, using her name now that he knew who she really was. “Because this, us knowing each another’s identities, was never supposed to happen.”       

Her mouth puckered, as if she was holding back tears. “Why is it every time I think I know you, I don’t?”

“You’re one to talk,” he muttered. To stifle her anger, he said, “Makes sense why you’re always going on about our hair looking alike now, doesn’t it?”

Her hands came to her mouth.

“It’s my fault Hawk Moth targeted Sensational,” he admitted. “Because I couldn’t stay away from you that night.”

“It really is you.”

He’d delayed the inevitable long enough. Adrien transformed, meeting her eyes, his now clad in a scarlet mask. “Yeah. It’s me.”

She must have been reliving moments they’d had together, just like he was. Holding Marinette on the roof as she cried over men and their ruthless hunger for people who didn’t belong to them. Marinette, as herself, so obviously professing her adoration to Aphid by planning Heroes Day for him, to try to support him at his lowest point. Marinette, in his bed, wiping away his tears, promising how cherished he was, promising to protect him.

Incredible, how much more meaning they had knowing who he’d really been with.

She threw herself at him, arms around his neck, face buried into his shoulder. “You’ve had so much responsibility. And I haven’t been there for you. I yelled at you about not showing up for the party, but you’d been saving all those people in the fire.”

“It’s part of the job, my lady. You know that as well as I do.”

“That was the day you became the Guardian and I didn’t know it. I didn’t know the burden you were bearing all by yourself.”

“I didn’t tell you. Not even Lady Noir you.” He smoothed her hair. “And you planned Aphid Day, all for me.”

She pulled herself closer to him. “Of course I did. I’d do anything for you.”

His voice cracked. “We can’t know each other’s secret identities.”

She let out a half-laugh, cutting short. “The cat’s out of the bag now.”

“Always with the cat puns.” He took a stuttered breath. “Even now.”

Marinette pulled away enough to meet his eyes, a hand coming to his chest. “We can go out there and do what we always do.”

“We can’t this time.”

“Why not?”   

He touched his earring again, his burden to bear. “I’m the Guardian. I need to follow the rules.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. There’s no reason to stop being the Guardian now. That wouldn’t help anything…” Recognition dawned. “You can’t forget!”

“Not just me. We both need to forget.” He reached through his yo-yo, pulling out the Miraculous of the snake, putting it on. Sass whizzed into existence. “Sass, I need you to use your power and turn back time to right before they announce the winners.”

“Adrien!” She grabbed his hand. “No.”

Aphid ran his fingertips down her cheek, aching to feel her skin through his suit. “We can’t know it’s us. Not until Hawk Moth is gone.”

“But I love you.” Her eyes filled with tears. “The boy I kept telling you I loved. It was you.”

His yo-yo fell to his side, slack. “Me?”

It didn’t make sense to him. Despite having the final puzzle piece, he couldn’t see the picture.

But why couldn’t it be possible? Marinette had told Aphid that Lady Noir’s flirtations hadn’t been fake, even if they were over the top. Lady Noir had told him that, at one point in time, she’d been in love with Aphid. That she had fallen for someone else. And who else made sense for Marinette to fall in love for but him?

He shook his head, out of disbelief or unacceptance, he didn’t know.

“I told you, Adrien. It’s so easy to love you. How could I not?”

It was so difficult for him to believe anyone could love him, much less the one he’d spent so much time wanting. He choked on a sob.

Marinette rushed into his arms, holding him tight. “I promise it’s true. I’ve loved all of you. I’ve been so confused about how I could so easily love both of you at the same time just to find out I was loving you.”

“I didn’t want to fake date,” he confessed. “I wanted to really date you. I’ve always wanted to be real with you.”

“Then date me. Be with me.” Her hands came to his cheeks. “Both sides of ourselves.”

He pressed his lips to hers. They’d kissed so many times in so many different circumstances, each with a guise and a secret. If only it could be as freeing as he’d always hoped, for her to know the real him, but his heart splintered knowing it was the last time in possibly forever that he would completely know her.

He kissed her despite knowing he’d forget, despite this moment never happening. Because no matter what, the fact of the matter was both his dance partner and superheroine partner were the same, and he loved her all the more for it.

She returned the kiss with pleading lips, as if she could convince him to change his mind by overriding his senses. It was a very Lady Noir thing to do. If only he’d been paying attention to the blunt, more playful side Marinette rarely showed, maybe he would have known.

But they couldn’t know.

“I’m sorry, my lady,” he murmured, pulling away. She clung to him despite her lack of claws. “Sass, it’s time.”

“No!”

He tried to memorize her horror-stricken face, at least glad the pain of this moment would never exist for either of them again. “No matter what, I won’t stop dancing with you, Slippers.” 

“Adrien—”

“Second Chance.”

                                                                             /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Adrien tightened his grip on Marinette’s delicate hand, which didn’t return the squeeze. No matter what happened, he’d find a way to make her dream come true.

“And the winners are…”

The stage started shaking, the electricity going out.

The entire production immediately shut down. The crowd murmured their confusion, followed by screams.

Whatever was going on, it had to be akuma related.

“We need to get out of here,” Marinette said, before the Sensational crew could even direct them on where to go. She was tugging him backstage. He followed willingly.

“Go that way,” Adrien urged as soon as they made it to a fork in the hallway, screams starting to echo through the building. “I’m going to make sure everyone is okay on the other side.”

Marinette rushed off without him.

Adrien transformed in a hidden alcove before exiting the building, finding Paris in more of a mess than he’d ever seen it. Usually, Hawk Moth’s attacks were themed by whatever the akumatized person was emotionally obsessing over, but this…

Lady Noir landed next to him. “Is it just me, or does it look like every century is trying to vomit itself onto Paris right now?”

There were ghost-like apparitions that flickered in and out of existence everywhere, all with different styled clothing from the past and future. Cars, wagons, and hovercrafts parked along the street, blipping in and out of reality. But the most bizarre part were all the animals, from deer to wolves to prehistoric animals, including dinosaurs, roaming about.

Yes, dinosaurs. In present day Paris.

“Whoever did this seriously spared no expense,” Lady Noir said.

“I think I know who did, and it’s not a billionaire.” Aphid removed Sass’s Miraculous, waiting for him to appear. “Sass, do you have any idea what this is all about?”

“I must have used my power to reverse time in the future,” he answered.

“Why?” Lady Noir asked.

“I’m not omniscient, Lady Noir. I can only guess that Aphid found the situation so dire that he was forced to reverse the damage temporarily and find a better solution to the problem here, in the present.”

Aphid and Lady Noir exchanged a look.

“Do you think Hawk Moth made an appearance?” she asked.

“I have no idea.” He rubbed his chin in thought. “I’m guessing the timeline changed pretty drastically from last time given the dance show was just interrupted by all this.”

A meteor came crashing down from the sky, only to disappear at the last second before impact.

“How do I stop it?”

“As long as there is no akumatized person, all you have to do is restore the city with your powers.”

“That seems a little too easy,” Lady Noir said.

“Looks like I’m not the only one interrupting Sensational.” The woman held herself regally, wings magically keeping her aloft.

Aphid put Sass’s Miraculous in his yo-yo for safe keeping, not wanting any chance of it getting stolen.

“Who are you supposed to be?” Lady Noir asked.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s rude to speak to royalty?” She branded a flute, playing, a light smacking into Lady Noir. “Kneel to Fae, your faerie queen.”

Lady Noir gasped as her legs bent without her permission.

“Lucky Charm,” Aphid said, for once getting something he knew how to use immediately—two sets of earplugs.

He shoved one pair in his ears, dodging as a car was thrown at him. He looked up to find the akumatized person scowling his way, Lady Noir still bowed down. But if his Lucky Charm supplied two pairs, Lady Noir would be able to do whatever she wanted, so long as she couldn’t hear what was commanded of her.

All he had to do was get to her first.

Aphid ran, flipping over all the debris she started throwing. A bus, a lamppost, a fire hydrant. Without warning, a person appeared in front of him, causing him to grind his heels into the ground to keep from impact.

Only to get hit by a bench.

He went rolling, grimacing as blood welted on his lip. He hoisted himself to his elbows and measured the too-far distance between him and Lady Noir. Fae was a mere few feet from his partner, playing her flute to command her again. Lady Noir’s hand raised, ring extended.

He pulled out the Dragon Miraculous, unifying the kwamis. “Lightning Dragon!”

Lightning crackled into existence, sending Fae flying backwards.

Aphid pulled himself up, closing the distance between him and his lady, grateful that the ring was still on her finger.

“Come on.” He pulled her up, only to have his legs swept from underneath him by Lady Noir. “What are you doing?”

“She commanded me to,” Lady Noir whispered, panicked.

At least she still had her mind when she murdered him.

Aphid jumped to his feet, using his yo-yo to combat her baton. “We really don’t have time for a cat fight right now. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You might have to.”

He slipped behind her attack, tripping her, trying to tie her up with his yo-yo string and failing. Fae was starting to stir.        

Lady Noir rushed at him. “She’s fae, Aphid. We need to break through her manipulation.”

He blocked her claws from tearing apart his flesh. “And how do we do that?”

“Salt.”

“And you know this how?”

“I read.”

If he wasn’t getting choked by her, he’d probably ask what she’d been reading to know that. He twisted her around, kicking at her knee so that she buckled. “I’m not exactly carrying any on me.”

She grunted as he yanked her arm as gently as he could, locking her in place. Without hesitation, she tripped his feet, pinning him to the ground. He stared up at her predatorial eyes, unable to move as she readied for the final strike.

“You have one thing with salt,” she whispered, her claws trembling with the effort of holding back her attack. “Use it.”

He licked his lip, tasting blood.

“Cata—”

Aphid twisted his ankle over hers, grappling until he was on top. He bent down, kissing her.

The last time their lips had touched had been accidental. And while this wasn’t exactly for romantic reasons, he couldn’t help but feel something in his chest stir, just as he had during their first akuma battle.  

She licked his lip, causing him to shudder.

It wasn’t long before he pulled away, shaken in a way only she could make him. “Still want to kill me?”

Lady Noir frowned. “That was a terrible kiss.”

He pulled her off the ground, handing her the earplugs. “Glad to see you’re back to your old self.” After she put them in, he muttered, “I could do better if we weren’t on a time crunch.”

“I can still hear you,” she said.

“I guess hearing each other is part of the earplug magic.” He shrugged, turning back to Fae, who had just unpasted herself from the concrete, her hair electrified. It was a great excuse to hide his red face.

“She doesn’t look happy.”

“Her akuma is probably in the flute.” Aphid nodded to it as she stood, readying to play again.

Lady Noir screamed as a herd of horses popped out of nowhere, almost becoming a pancake. Aphid strung his yo-yo string around her, pulling her out of the way.

“This is way more intense than normal.” 

Lady Noir pointed at the end of the street. “You spoke too soon.”

A giant beast was rampaging towards them, something he couldn’t imagine existing, even in the future. Not to mention it was staying solid, unlike all the apparitions. It grunted like a warthog, spewing pollen. The people it ran past began dancing, unable to stop.

Lady Noir readied her baton. “What the heck is that thing?”

“I’d rather not find out.” He readied his yo-yo. “My lady, are you feeling like an upgrade?”

“It’s always nice to have more than nine lives.”

He handed her the Miraculous of the Fox, not bothering to watch her unify her kwamis as Fae started attacking at the same time at the beast did.

He split apart from Lady Noir, taking on Fae as she tested out the creature.

“Aphid!”

It was starting to shake its pollen free again.

“Wind Dragon!” He started a tornado of wind around the beast, keeping the spores at bay.

Fae knocked him aside, knocking an ear plug free from his head.

He shoved his hand over his ear as Fae readied her flute. Lady Noir slammed her baton into her, sending her flying.

“Here.” Lady Noir handed him the earplug.

“Thanks.” He put it back in. “What’d you learn about her friend?”

“Temperamental. Smelly. Attention hog. No objects on him that look akumatized.” She gestured up at it. “I don’t think it’s a person.”

“Then what could it be?”

“Didn’t the kwamis say there was another Miraculous out there that never got found?”

“The Peacock.” He shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense though.”

“Really? You don’t think Hawk Moth wouldn’t be chomping at the bits to get another Miraculous that he’d search for it?”

“If that’s seriously something the Peacock made, it’s dangerous.” He couldn’t remember the name of what the creations were called. “There should be an object controlling it, containing a peacock feather.”

Lady Noir turned towards Fae. “She has a crown and a flute.”

A crown made of the same materials as the beast.

The beast broke free of his tornado, charging.

“Give her what she wants. Use your illusion now.”

Lady Noir played her own flute. “Mirage!”

Her pet stopped just short of them as Fae’s own attack landed before the illusion could be cast, knocking them off their feet. Both of them got up, but not quickly enough.   

“I want to watch you dance with one another. I want you to enjoy yourselves.”

The monster’s spores choked them. They stood, taking their places in one another’s arms, waltzing, unable to stop as Fae played her flute, weaving a song of travesty through Paris as time splintered and cracked.

Even if they were free from the flute’s spell, they could never stop dancing.

“I guess this is it for us.” Lady Noir nestled her head into the crook of Aphid’s neck.

“Hawk Moth can’t win,” Aphid said.

“I’m sorry, but he already has. We failed.” She looked up at him, tears running down her cheeks. “At least this song is beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful,” Aphid replied.

He kissed her as they whirled, swept away in the dance, in the turmoil of loss and love. She returned his fervor, spinning, her lips always connected to his.

Fae’s song drifted off as the kiss continued, as if she was stunned that her music could produce such a passionate response. “I did this?”

“Not exactly,” a voice behind her called.

The beast let out a guttural sound in warning. Fae turned, but it was too late. The illusion disappeared, revealing the real heroes that had snuck up behind her.

“Water Dragon!” Aphid yelled. A wave crashed towards the beast, sending him sprawling down the street, too far away to protect his master.

Lady Noir wrestled with Fae, but only momentarily, grabbing both the flute and crown from her. “Cataclysm!”

Both disintegrated, releasing a butterfly and feather.

So it was a Peacock Miraculous creation. He captured the feather as well as the akuma, purifying them both. Lady Noir dropped her ear plugs into his hand, along with his own. He tossed them into the sky. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

Everything began preparing itself. Time stood still, all damage repaired.

She touched her fingers to his lip. “You stopped bleeding.”

He blinked down at her, dazed. Her illusion, despite not living it himself, had felt very real. It’d been a while since he, as Aphid, had thought of the possibility of closeness with her. Kisses had a way of breaking habits. “We need to get her back home.”

Lady Noir pulled her hand away. “Right.” She strode over to the woman. “I’ve got her. You have less time than I do for transforming back.”

He gave her a wave before flinging himself to the roof of the studio, shedding his mask and heading down the stairs.

“Marinette?” he asked around. “Has anyone seen Marinette?”

He started panicking. What if, in his haste to save Paris, Hawk Moth had swept in and kidnapped her? What if that’s why he’d asked Sass to reverse time? He’d been the cause of all this?

Adrien buried his head into his hands and leaned up against the wall to keep from crumpling.

“Adrien.”

His head jerked up. Marinette stood at the other end of the hall.

His feet carried him as fast as they could. He collided with her, pulling her into his arms. “I was so worried about you.”

“I was worried about you. I couldn’t find you.”

“You’re the one who Hawk Moth threatened,” he whispered, hugging her tighter. “Did he try to take you?”

“No. But there was that monster…”

The word jumpstarted his memory. Sentimonster. That’s what Tikki had called them. That’s what the beast had been. “Aphid and Lady Noir took care of them.”

She pulled back, hands on his cheeks. “I was still scared for you.”

“I’m okay.” He touched his forehead to hers. “We’re okay.”

They were, but what guarantee did he ever have of them being okay again? That they’d continue being alive and well?

“Marinette, I—”

“I have something to tell you,” they said at the same time.

Their faces flushed. He didn’t let go of her shoulders, not wanting to ever part from her again. “I—”

A crewmember rounded the corner. “I know this is probably a lot to ask, but we wanted to announce the winners now that the studio has been repaired. We’re still live.”

They stayed frozen in place despite him watching them.

“I guess we should go,” he said hollowly.

“Yeah.”

All his motivation drained out of him as reality set in. They made their way back to the stage, everyone fussing over their outfits, trying to get everything back during the extended commercial break.

“Remember, look like you’re in suspense,” they were reminded.

Even Marinette looked worse for wear. It made sense, after an akuma attack. He rubbed her back as the cameras honed in and the host started speaking.

“We won’t delay you any longer, viewers. The winners of the first ever season of Sensational are XY and Lila Rossi!”

Marinette stiffened next to him. Lila and XY screamed, jumping up and down, hugging. They were forced to politely clap and even hug them (he knew he’d get an earful of that from Marinette later), pretending to be happy while it felt like the universe had cracked and everything had started spilling out.

Which it technically had, but this was somehow worse.

Something had shifted, or maybe broken, and he had no idea what it was. Time had been reversed and there was no way of knowing why. All he did know was that Hawk Moth had access to another Miraculous, Marinette was still in danger, and he hadn’t been able to help her win Sensational.

They went through their interviews on autopilot, thankful when they got cut short due to the akuma attack.

“Let’s go to the studio,” she said.

He followed, their journey silent as they meandered through the city lights of Paris. He tried to keep his mind from his failings, tried to breathe in the night air, stay focused on the glittering lights.

But he couldn’t.

As soon as they were at the studio, he said, “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“For losing. I didn’t have my head in it the past few weeks. I could have done better.”

She shook her head. “I’m not mad at you.”

I wasn’t pretending, he wanted to say. “But we lost.”

“I haven’t been my best either,” she affirmed. “It’s not all on you. Honestly, if we won like that, I don’t think I could have forgiven myself. It wouldn’t have been right to win like that.”

“But you can’t join a company now.”

Marinette shrugged. “There will always be more opportunities, right?”

He walked over to the barre, placing a hand on it. Imagining how many thousands of times Marinette had practiced, had bled for this.

He’d wanted her to win, but there was nothing to be done now.

Adrien turned to face her, frowning.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Marinette asked.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “It’s just…I feel like I’m forgetting something.”

“You didn’t forget any steps,” she replied.

He didn’t let her joke shake the feeling. Not that it was a feeling that was so easily brushed aside.

Marinette stopped walking. “I feel the same way. Like maybe this is a dream and the real ending will happen when I wake up.”

Adrien touched his earring. “I guess we’ll wake up tomorrow and make sure.”

But the answer didn’t seem like something he’d get in a dream. The answer was right in front of him, in her, somehow.

“My life changed when I met you, Marinette,” he said. “I never would have found school by myself. I wouldn’t have learned this much about dance or gotten this far into the competition. I wouldn’t have found the courage to be away from my father and…I wouldn’t be who I am today, without you.”

And it still felt like more than that, even if he couldn’t explain it.

“It’s seriously fine that we didn’t win. I don’t hold it against you at all, or even against myself, which you probably know is hard for me,” she whispered. “Thanks for sticking with me, Pigeon. For forgiving me.”

The competition was over. Her dreams were buried. But not if his plan worked out.

So he said the damning words, “That’s what friends are for, right?”

She looked him square in the eyes, not a single regret on her beautiful face. “Right.”

Chapter Text

A few weeks went by of a new normal that Marinette hated.

Without dancing every second of every day and summer starting up, she had a lot more time to be with Aphid, discussing what sentimonsters were with the kwamis and trying to find out as much about them as they could.

She missed Adrien. Yes, she saw him during their few hours of school, but mostly in passing. They graduated quietly and continued a few more wrap-up interviews with Sensational. Now that it was over, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do with her life. She hadn’t gotten a single offer from companies during or after the show. Her whole life had been riding on winning and now…

“Hey, Slippers.”

Marinette looked up from her stretches, finding Adrien standing in the doorway of the studio. “Adrien?”

“I thought I’d come by to visit. See if you needed a dance partner.”

Her toes curled. “You want to dance with me?”

“Always.”

She took in his graceful gait, her breath sharp in her chest at the very sight of him. But they were just friends, which he’d made very clear, and she didn’t have a right to feel the way she did.

When he set down his bag next to hers, her phone started ringing.

“You should get that.”

He knew she wasn’t one to even have her phone on during practice, much less answer it. She’d been leaving it on, just in case he called her. Something she definitely didn’t want him to know.

To appease him, she answered. “Hello? Yes, this is she.” She listened, mouth open. Nodding, forgetting they couldn’t see her. “Thank you. Can I have some time to think on it?”

Marinette hung up a second later, weak at the knees.

She’d gotten offered a full ride from Juilliard, one of the most prestigious dance schools in the world. She hadn’t applied there. It must have been because of the competition, even though they hadn’t won.

The school was in New York City.

“Good news?”

She’d forgotten Adrien was standing there, waiting for her.

She walked past him, her feet dragging. “Yeah.”

“Who wouldn’t want you to dance with them?”

Marinette paused, turning. “How did you know it was about dance?”

His mouth opened before he winced. “Isn’t it always?”

He was a bad liar. “…Adrien? Are you the one who set this up?”

“You deserved to win that competition,” he said. “With my background, it’s easy to call in favors. Not that you should have needed one. You’re amazing and deserve a spot at Juilliard.”

Adrien believed in her so much that he’d called Juilliard for her and somehow convinced them to let her in for free.

She allowed herself to think of going for a single moment. Living in a new place, soaking up the inspiration of one of the most famous cities in the world. Making dance friends with the same level of drive that she had, who understood her in ways very few people ever did. Being pushed as a dancer and growing into the person who would one day be a leader in the world of dance, breaking the boundaries of choreography and skill, something she couldn’t achieve without a school or company.

It was everything she’d ever wanted. “I’m not going.”

His face fell. “But the scholarship—”

“I know. You made it so everything was perfect, but I can’t go.”

“Why?”

Because I’m Lady Noir. Because Paris depends on me. Because even without that excuse, I don’t want to leave you. “I just can’t.”

He walked up to her, hands coming to her cheeks, holding her face with such tender gentleness. “Are you scared?”

“It’s not that, Adrien.” The tears started coming. “I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you.”

It’d be so much easier to admit the truth to him, but Aphid would never forgive her. No one could know who she was. Not when it would put him in danger.

“We can work something out.”

“It won’t work out.” She stepped out of his embrace, wiping away the tears. “Can you drop it?”

“I thought this is what you wanted.”

Me too, she thought.

Marinette grabbed her bag, rushing out the door and maneuvering herself into the crowds of the street. This was her home, her responsibility, and it was here in Paris she’d have to stay. Whether she wanted to or not.

                                                                            /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Adrien didn’t understand why Marinette had reacted the way she had. He thought she’d be ecstatic. And it seemed like she wanted to go, but for some reason couldn’t. But why? As far as he knew, her parents were over the moon for her dance career and supportive of absolutely everything she did. It was everything she’d ever wanted, something she’d told him time and time again. It was a completely free school experience. And yet for some reason, she couldn’t?

Tikki didn’t seem to have any answers either when he’d asked if she had any idea what would be stopping her. He’d called to check in and make sure she was okay, but she wasn’t answering, not even his texts.

He gave up trying after a few hours, deciding to blow off some steam as Aphid. Now that he wasn’t dancing nonstop, his body was restless with energy. It sent him climbing up the Eiffel Tower, something he rarely did. He hid higher up, away from the crowds, trying to wrack his brain over why Marinette was throwing her future away.

It wasn’t long before he sensed that Lady Noir had transformed.

She climbed onto her own iron seat, staring out at Paris.

It wasn’t like her to be quiet. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she said.

“It looks like something is bugging you.”

She didn’t seem at all amused by his pun. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Aphid, but I’m tired of being stuck in Paris.”

If only he could get Marinette to leave Paris. “Why’s that?”

“I’m young. Most people our age are going backpacking, vacationing, moving to completely different countries, sometimes on the other side of the world.” She spread her hands out, as if to indicate their amount of choices before slapping them together. “And here I am, stuck, because of evil butterflies.”

“You never have come across as a homebody.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it here,” she emphasized. “It’s just that I’m a cat and I like the ability to go where I please, when I please. Then, when I’m ready, I come home.”

It was a pretty apt description of herself. He’d never really thought of her leaving, though. He’d been so focused on Marinette going to America that he’d never guess that Lady Noir had been contemplating traveling herself. It did make sense. She was probably around college age. Why shouldn’t she be able to go wherever she wanted to?

“And if you could go anywhere at any time…would you take it?”

“I’m not giving up my Miraculous,” she said. “You know me better than that.”

“I know. But would you maybe…have two?”

He’d wanted to give the Horse Miraculous to Marinette, but he couldn’t. It’d be too random to deliver it to her himself, even if they had spoken before. And even if it was the power of teleportation, it wasn’t always needed to fight akumas. Besides, they’d decided that adding people to their partnership would probably mess with their relationship too much and be too big of a risk.

But Lady Noir using the Horse Miraculous was completely fine.

She crept over to his banister, eying him skeptically. “You’d really let me have it?”

“You deserve to be happy.” He took a breath, pulling out his yo-yo and retrieving the Miraculous. “I do have one condition, though.”

“Yes?”

“Just promise me you’ll be my partner forever.”

She leaned forward, letting her face hover before kissing his cheek, her lips lingering. “We’re forever entwined, you and I.”

He softened, handing her the glasses. “Go. Live your life, my lady.”

“Only if you live yours too.”

“Don’t worry. I am.”

It just happened to be one with a lot of sacrifice.

                                                                            /ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Adrien stood at the street corner Marinette had told him to meet her on. He jittered his leg, trying not to draw attention to himself, but it was hard not to fidget when she hadn’t given him any information on why she’d wanted to meet him after avoiding him like the plague.

He touched an earring absentmindedly before checking his phone for any missed messages. He’d beaten her to their meeting spot for once.

“Are you a tourist?”

He turned, finding Marinette smirking at him.

He hadn’t expected her to look happy. Adrien swallowed, not sure what to say.               

“Come on.” She grabbed his hand and started walking.

They meandered in silence for a moment, surrounded by the bustling of Paris. He didn’t care about anything but the way her hand fit in his, so slim and strong. 

“This is where we met, you know,” Marinette said. “I thought we should relive our walk.”

“You’re not about to start hating me again, are you?”

“Never. But since it’s a place where everything changed, I thought it’d be fitting to use it to tell you something.” She stopped walking. “I’m going to Juilliard. Tonight.” Marinette’s words strung together. “I know it’s last minute, but they have this special program this summer that they’re allowing me to attend early, so…I’m going.”

His world tilted off axis. As much as he wanted her to go, he hadn’t been prepared to lose her so suddenly. She’d been so adamant before about not going, for reasons she wouldn’t explain. “What changed your mind?”

“I wasn’t sure if I could handle it, honestly. This past year has been completely different from what I thought it would be. I used to be this loner dance girl who pushed basically everyone away because I was so focused on my goal that I missed out on the best things life had to offer.

“But you showed me that life is better with a partner. That letting people in isn’t a weakness. It doesn’t hold me back, but it helps me grow into who I always wanted to be. And now, because of you…I’ll keep getting to live my dream.”

“Dancing circles around me.”

She let out a strangled laugh. “You don’t dance like a pigeon anymore.”

“I’ve changed since meeting you too,” he confessed. “I remember that first day you were so passionate about everyone being themselves. In all honesty, I didn’t know who I was. I felt like I had to be a people pleaser to my father, Chloe, and everyone in Paris…but no one really wanted who I was, they wanted whatever they thought was the best version of myself.

“And it kind of felt like that with you at first, given you wanted a flawless dance partner. But that changed after the first round. We actually became friends and I got to discover who I was with someone who actually genuinely cared. When I’m with you…I’m me.” He fought back his tears. “And I really hope I don’t lose that when you’re gone.”

She stood on tiptoe, hugging him. “You won’t. I’m not going to let you, okay?”

He wrapped his arms around her, holding tight. How was he going to survive life without spending every waking minute with this beautiful, determined girl?

“Will you visit me?” she whispered.

His heartache doubled. He pulled away, trying not to shrivel with guilt. “I want to, but I’m going to be busy.”

He really wasn’t sure what normal him had on his plate, given he wasn’t modeling for his father or on Sensational anymore. He hadn’t applied for any schools, not sure what he wanted to do with himself. All he knew was that Paris needed Aphid and he had absolutely no way of coming to see Marinette without the Horse Miraculous.

His stomach clenched. “…We’re still going to be friends, right?”

“Of course we will.”

He hated the way it sounded like an empty promise. They’d be in two completely different timezones. Her dance schedule was going to be a chaotic mess. Realistically, it only made sense that they’d drift further and further apart, until one day she came back, years later, in some ballet that she didn’t even bother inviting him to, that he somehow found out about last minute and bought a seat in the back row, watching her from afar. A ghost. A stranger.

I can ask Lady Noir for the Horse Miraculous back, he thought frantically. I can figure out excuses on coming and going quickly to New York. Maybe I can live there, away from my father. As close as possible to her.

But then Lady Noir would have to give up whatever dreams she had. He couldn’t do that to her.    

Adrien forced himself to stay standing, smiling. He’d try his hardest to stay friends with Marinette. He was used to doing his best at keeping up with her, after all. And if he loved her, if he truly loved her, pursuing her through calls and texts was the very least he could do.

This time, his smile was genuine. “Careful, Slippers. You might get sick of me.”

“I don’t know, Pigeon. You kind of grow on a person.”

He took a step closer, grabbing her hand. “I’ll be here if you ever need a partner.”

Marinette’s face softened. “Stay warmed up for me.”

Her phone dinged with an alarm. “I can’t believe you’re leaving today.”

“I didn’t know until last minute. I’m really sorry.” Her eyes glistened. “I wanted more time…”

So did he. But this was what she needed to do. Adrien placed his hands on her shoulders, caressing them with his thumbs. “Me too, but we can talk anytime we want still.”

She sniffed, shaking with the tears she was holding back.

“Make sure you keep those toes pointed,” he murmured. “And stop doing that thing where you hold your emotions back. They’re beautiful.”

The tears slid down her face. “Okay.”

“Hey.” He nodded to her, squeezing her arms. Her dazzling eyes met his. His resolve wavered. But he had to let her go. “Make sure you spot when you turn. No looking back, okay?”

His hands trailed down her arms, memorizing the solidity of this moment. How breathtaking she was, leaping into the unknown despite her fear. Her hands found his, gripping tight.

“You’ve got this,” he said one last time, hating that they were no longer a we.

Her hands tore from his. She ran, her eyes not turning back, her feet pointed towards her future. Away from him.

He watched her go, unable to move. Tikki nudged him in his pocket, an attempt at comfort, but he was numb to feeling anything besides the lump in his throat, the sting in his eyes, and the aching hole in his chest.

Adrien dragged himself home, realizing that he wouldn’t be setting his alarm for an ungodly hour to see her in the morning. Wouldn’t be a step away from her. Wouldn’t be lifting her into his arms, grasping her hand, close enough to feel the echo of her vibrating laughter from her chest onto his.

But she was where she was supposed to be and, this way, she’d be safe from Hawk Moth.

Adrien got ready for bed too early, not knowing what to do with himself other than sleep and repeat all his mundane self-care tasks again the next day.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, he had a text. “Even at this high altitude I can feel that you’re not pointing your toes.”

He couldn’t help but smile as he texted back. “Shouldn’t you be asleep on your plane?”

“I have wi-fi. You’ll stay up and keep me company, right?”

He got into bed and typed, “What are partners for?”

THE END

Chapter Text

For anyone lost, this is the premise to book two of Spots, Whiskers, and Ballet Slippers. If you haven't read the first book, shame on you for skipping ahead. You know what they say about what happens to curious cats. For everyone else, here's what to expect in my next installment:

Marinette is living out her wildest dreams, dancing at one of the most prestigious dancing schools in the entire world. But being at Juilliard isn't at all what she was expecting, especially when she has to keep missing class to teleport back to Paris to be her alter ego, Lady Noir. Not to mention dancing hasn't been the same without her best friend and crush, Adrien Agreste, who she hasn't been able to stop thinking about.

After the finale of Sensational was interrupted by Hawk Moth, Adrien knew Marinette was being targeted due to his own rash decision to visit her as Aphid, leading to him almost getting akumatized. Despite finding the perfect way to keep her safe by getting her a full ride into Juilliard, he can't help but wish she was back. The only consolation is Lady Noir has been visiting him all summer long, keeping him company...among other things.

When a new dance show, These Dancing Delights, calls Adrien to ask if he and Marinette would be interested in competing, he can't help but wonder if this is a new shot to get her back and tell her how he feels. Not that she would ever want to come back to Paris when she has everything she ever wanted.

This book will feature more MLB characters including Felix, Kagami, Luka, and Zoe. And, remember, Hawk Moth is known to have the Peacock Miraculous now. I'm sure you all know what plot thickening that will do for our beloved heroes.

Thank you yet again for reading even this far. It means the world to me. I'll try to make it the best story I possibly can.

Until next time, ~xoxo~

-hona

Chapter Text

Aphid shifted, gripping his polka dot cards tight. Everything rode on this last move.

He put the playing card down, letting out a breath. “Did I get lucky?”

“You’re never lucky at cards,” Calvin, his latest opponent, said.

They were in one of the playrooms at the local Parisian hospital. He’d made it a habit to visit ever since Sensational had finished shooting, making sure to give most of his time to the residents who were stuck in the hospital long-term going through their various treatments.

“Hold still,” Madeline fussed as she added a plethora of cosmetic sparkles to his hair.

He forced himself not to rub at the glitter she’d applied next to his eye. It actually looked amazing, given that she was seven. “We’re in such a heated game though.”

“You’ve already lost all three times.” Calvin put down another winning hand. “Make that four.”

“You’re too good at this.” Aphid reshuffled the polka dotted cards. “You’d think I’d win my own card game.”

“At least you’re good at saving Paris.” Madeline stepped back to admire her handiwork, nodding in approval. “And now, thanks to me, you look fabulous.”

He winked. “Thanks, kiddo.”

“Madeline, it’s time for your meds,” a nurse called out from the doorway.

She groaned. “Fine.”  Madeline kissed his cheeks. “Come visit again, okay?”

“Soon,” he promised.

As Madeline left, Calvin slumped in his seat.

“Ready for a nap?” Aphid asked.

He nodded. Aphid scooped him up, not liking how frail he felt.

“Here.” He tucked him into his hospital bed. “I’ll come by sometime this week to play again.”

Calvin rested his head, eyes heavy. “I wish I could have a Miraculous.”

“Maybe when you’re older. I know I can count on you.” Aphid adjusted his beanie. “Sleep well, Calvin.”

He left the hospital from the roof. It was still early in the morning, but his body had somewhat adjusted to Marinette’s grueling early dance sessions, leaving him to need something to do. He swung his way home and dropped his transformation, rolling his shoulders as he closed the window, finding his glittered makeup reflection.

Adrien went to the bathroom to remove the makeup, but not before transforming again to take a few selfies to send to Lady Noir to use on their socials. When he finished cleaning up, he found some missed texts from Marinette.

You’re seriously missing the pigeon action in New York, the first one read, along with a picture of one attacking a hot dog. Speaking of pigeons, did you figure out what you wanted to do this fall? Are you going to take Nathalie up on her offer?

He texted back, Yeah, that looks exactly like me. Slap that on the cover of Fashion Weekly. He paused. No, I haven’t figured it out yet, but I really don’t want to do anything fashion related considering…well, you know.

Adrien couldn’t help but smile as the window rattled in its frame. "Nice to see you, Lady Noir.”

She circled him, pouting. “How did you know it was me?”

“I promise I don’t have other women visiting me.” He put his phone down, pulling her to him. “Hey, kitty.”

Her hands came to his neck. "I love when you call me that."

"What a coincidence." He nuzzled his nose into her cheek. "I love calling you that."

About a week into summer vacation, Lady Noir had shown up outside his window, apologizing for the way she’d ended things and wanting a do over for their friendship. Given that he wasn’t expecting Marinette to ever come back, he’d accepted her terms.

And then some.

They’d agreed to keep things friendly between them, but they probably should have been more specific, given how friendly they both ended up being. There was always an unspoken electricity between them, something he’d tried to ignore the first few days before finding themselves inching closer on the couch, stealing the briefest touch, pretending it was accidental. They’d ended up giving up on pretenses at the exact same time, unable to keep their hands off each other anymore.

Not that they’d done more than kiss, but sometimes it felt like that was all they did, or all he wanted to do, which was annoying, given how much he loved her as an individual and not just for their physical intimacy that they got to share.

They kept feelings and identities out of whatever it was they had, something they’d never really named and didn’t want to. Or at least, he didn’t want to. Given her forced secretive nature, he doubted she wanted to give it a title either.

It’d been an interesting summer, to say the least.

“It’s been a few days,” he said. She’d never told him about the Horse Miraculous and how she didn’t live in Paris anymore, but it kept her visits relatively brief.

She kissed his cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

His nose grazed her neck. “Then visit more often.”

Lady Noir sidled closer. “You know I would if I could.”

“How long do you have?”

“Three hours.” She pulled out of his arms, heading to his kitchen, pulling out the special black cat mug he’d gotten her, along with her favorite coffee that he kept stocked. “Did you get me those croissants I asked for?”

“I put them behind the cucumber in the pantry to keep you from ever getting to them.”

“Haha.” She put another mug of coffee on the counter for him. “I guess I’ll let you off the hook for that, given you got me my favorite things.”

He leaned up against the wall by the fridge. “You have such grace for people. It’s overwhelming.”

She grinned. “You think you’re incredibly sexy when you lean against stuff like that, don’t you?”

“Me?” He uncrossed his arms enough to point to himself before resuming his very model-like pose. “Never.”

Lady Noir set her mug down, striding over to him, her fingers tickling the hem of his shirt. “You’re such a tease.”

“You’d rather me be more straightforward?”

Her eyes peeked up at him. “It’s acceptable, I suppose.”

Adrien lifted her onto the counter. “You don’t want this at all, then?”

“Define ‘this’ and I’ll tell you.”

His hand tingled down her arm. “You wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

“I’m curious.”

He let out a soft laugh against her neck. “Only natural.”

Adrien stole the croissant from her fingers.

She reeled back, offended. “Give that back.”

He took a bite, escaping to the living room. “Told you that you couldn’t handle it.”

“Thief,” she accused, jumping to steal it back.

“What are you going to do about it?”

She kissed him. His defenses crumbled as he got lost in her.

She snatched the croissant back. “Don’t take food from me again or you’ll lose an eye.”

“Geez. It’s always the Hunger Games with you.”

Lady Noir winked at him, taking another bite. “You owe me getting to pick our next movie, remember?”

“I know. I wasn’t trying to get out of it.”

She went back to the kitchen, grabbing the box of baked goods. “You haven’t seen Megamind yet, have you?”

“Mega what?”

She threw him a look of disdain. “I’m so embarrassed for you right now.”

He sighed. “Come on, let’s watch it.”

Lady Noir groaned, a hand on her forehead. “I’m overcome with such shame.”

Adrien scooped her up, her laughter ringing in his ears as he deposited her onto the couch. He grabbed the remote, finding the streaming service it was playing on.

Lady Noir linked their arms and hands. “Don’t worry, it’s funny.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her and kissed her cheek as it started. She looked back with warmth and admiration, something he wasn’t used to receiving from anyone. Adrien sank into the couch and into their embrace. She didn’t sit still for very long, always trying to find new cuddling positions. He didn’t mind, only readjusted into whatever ended up working to being comfortable for both of them.

They both ate as the movie played, laughing often.

She ended up falling asleep about halfway through despite it being about ten in the morning.

It was a bit of a mystery, where she was living now. She’d given Aphid postcards from around the world. Canada. Spain. Argentina. Shanghai. New York. The UK. Dubai. He suspected that she was trying to throw him off her scent by popping in just long enough to buy him a souvenir, but he couldn’t prove it, given he couldn’t really ask her about it.

He hoped the time change wasn’t running her ragged. If she was dealing with a time change, that is.

Adrien kissed the top of her head when the movie was over. She stirred, rolling over to tuck her face into his chest. “Five more minutes.”

“You said you only had three hours.” He traced her shoulder blades. “But if I’m being honest, I’d rather steal your time than your croissants.”

She cracked an eye open, wincing. “That’d be nice, but I do have to go.” Lady Noir didn’t move, staring up at him as he started kissing her fingers. “Adrien?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want a girlfriend?”

One of her fingers was still touching his lips. He put her hand back down, taking a deep breath to allow him time to think. “Yeah. Maybe not right now, though.”

“What’s holding you back?”

Her face was nothing but sincere. Still, he grimaced. “It just doesn’t ever seem to want to work out with the girls I love.” He nodded to her. “You know that.”

“Have you ever loved anyone else? Other than me?”

“We don’t have to talk about this.”

“Why not be honest about it?”

“We’re never really honest with each other,” he whispered. “Not when it comes to what we are.” He touched her cheek. “And I’m okay with that. I’d rather not lose you.”

She tilted her chin down. “Has there ever been another girl that you’ve been in love with?”

It was a legitimate question, given their position, but he didn’t want to talk about it with her. He thought of Marinette’s accusation of him pretending through their whole relationship. Granted, it had been a fake one. “I guess I have a habit of pretending.”

Lady Noir sat up.

He blinked. “I didn’t mean like that.”

“I know,” she said gently. “I know this isn’t anything.”

The silence spoke volumes. He didn’t want their relationship to fracture just because romance had become a subject.

Before he could change the topic, she said, “I really do have to go.” She stood, pausing long enough to run a hand through his hair. “I’ll be back when I can, okay?”

He nodded. “Be safe.”

She was gone, without a promise.

Adrien plopped himself back down on the couch and stared up at the ceiling, lasting all but five seconds without feeling restless. He took out his phone. Marinette hadn’t texted him back. Not that he was expecting her to, since it was the middle of the night in New York.

I miss you, he started to text, before deleting it.

His phone rang. He frowned, recognizing the number, one he hadn’t seen in a long time.

He picked up. “Hello?”

Chapter Text

Marinette stumbled down the hall, trying to avoid dropping her bag as she put her hair up in a messy bun. She shouldered her way through the door to her class studio, cringing as she rammed into a very intimidating back.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, giving a wide berth to her instructor, Ms. Wolfe. It was just her luck to not even be able to sneak into class unnoticed.

“What a surprise,” Ms. Wolfe said. “You’re late.”

All the other students were practicing like perfect robots, not a hair off when it came to execution. Then there was Marinette, whose bun had fallen apart as if she’d just executed thirty-two dazzling fouettés in a row, which is what she should have been learning to do.

“I’m sorry.” She dropped her bag, pulling on her slippers, taking them off as she realized she hadn’t inserted her toe pads.

“This is the seventh time this week you’ve been tardy, Marinette.”

She fumbled in her bag for her toe pads, accidentally squishing Plagg in the process, who let out a hiss. Marinette spoke loudly to cover the noise, “I’m so sorry, it’s just there was another akuma attack—”

Ms. Wolfe barely softened. “It’s terrible, but you’re in New York now and, given your presence here, I expect you to be present.”

She finished putting on her slippers and stood, taking a deep breath. “I mean this in the most sensitive way possible, but Paris undergoing an akuma attack is kind of like America’s version of 9/11, except it happens every single day, sometimes multiple times a day.”

The students practicing stopped, obviously offended by the comparison.

“I understand that and, while I do empathize with you for worrying about your loved ones in danger, superheroes also magically fix the damage every time, so I’m that sense, it’s not like 9/11 at all.”

Marinette bowed her head in apology. “I know, I’m sorry. But that doesn’t make it any less terrifying for me.”

“I know.” She paused. “You’re incredibly talented, but if you’re not able to be consistent, then you’re not going to make it at this school.”

Or anywhere else, she implied.

Ms. Wolfe walked away, starting to chastise the other students. Marinette hovered by the wall, trying to get her mind off the fight she’d just had in Paris and in the right time zone. The right place. She was one of the few prestigious students accepted into Juilliard. She was here to become the best dancer she could be.

Marinette squeezed her fingers into a fist. Her ring dug into her skin.

“Care to join us, Marinette?” Ms. Wolfe barked, no longer playing nice.

She put up her hair in a tight bun and left the safety of the wall, trying to avoid the disapproving eyes of the other students as she did her best to keep up.

/ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

A few hours later, she collapsed onto her creaking bed. “Coast is clear, Plagg.”

“Ugh.” Plagg sniffed, coming out of her bag. “Why do you have to share a room?”

She kept her face down. “Because it’s college.”

“And you’re getting a full ride, thanks to Adrien Agreste, but you still have to fight over who gets to use the bathroom first in the morning. Not to mention she judges all my cheese.”

Marinette’s roommate, Alysia, had made it perfectly clear that she was here to dance and that was it. Ironically, she was basically an even more intense version of Marinette, or at least the version of herself she’d been when she’d started the competition with Adrien—a very annoying killjoy.

The only good thing about it was that Alysia spent most of her time dancing or in the library, not in her room or questioning where Marinette went in the middle of the night.

“No, Plagg. She questions how I’m able to eat that much cheese and not be the size of a cow.”

“It’s horrible,” he moped. “I can’t even leave your bag unless she’s not here. And they say this country is all about freedom!”

“I once remember you saying that you could live the rest of your life without ever moving again. Which is really something, given the whole immortality thing.”

“I’d still like to be given the choice.” He crossed his arms. “I can’t live like this. Can we go home?”

“This is home now.” She gestured wearily to the walls. “All my hopes and dreams are here.”

“Please,” he scoffed. “You’re miserable.“

“This is literally everything I’ve ever worked for.”

“And you found out it’s not all that great. The grass isn’t always greener.”

“No,” she seethed. “I found out being a superhero really sucks and that it’s preventing me from being who I want to be and doing what I want to do.”

“Really? Because the Marinette I know would be in the studio practicing every second of the day and all I ever see you do is look at pictures of Adrien on your phone and hoping for akuma alerts.”

She set her phone down, closing the screen to get rid of the evidence. “I don’t have any pictures of him saved on my phone.”

“You find them on all those gossip sites.”

Yes, she truly had stooped that low. Did she get any actual information on Adrien from them? No. But there was no denying that they did capture some amazing pictures of that beautiful face of his. “I can’t text him all the time, Plagg. We’re not—”

“That close? Of course not. It’s not like you didn’t see each other six hours a day for months on end and then pretend to be a,” he shuddered, as if the word was too horrible to utter, “couple.”

And, in the process, develop real feelings for him. Her cheeks heated. “We’ve barely texted. I…he isn’t interested in being more than friends with me.”

“Baloney. He’s as smitten as a kitten with a kitten.”

She hid her face in her hands. “Please don’t say that.”

“It’s true. You visit him like a stray alley cat any chance you get.” Plagg leaned closer to her, eyes narrowed. “The word visit being generous to what you really do.”

Granted, she did go overboard when she was Lady Noir. She couldn’t help herself. It was easy to be flirty with him when she had the mask. They related to each other when it came to how the general public viewed and treated them. And if she couldn’t have Adrien as Marinette, she’d decided even if it wasn’t the best idea, she’d at least have him as much as he allowed her to as Lady Noir.

“I can’t visit him as me,” she retorted. “The only person who has the Horse Miraculous is Lady Noir, who for all intents and purposes can’t be Marinette. No one can see me there and, if you haven’t noticed, I’m a little bit famous now.” She paused. “Speaking of which, where is Kaalki?”

Plagg exhaled. “Listening to some podcast on horses being noble steeds.” Plagg lowered his voice and flew over to Marinette’s ear. “She’s driving me crazy. If I have to hear one more horse fact—”

“Hi Kaalki,” she cut Plagg off as Kaalki rose from the bag, fiddling with the phone Marinette had purchased just for them.

“Salutations, hero.” She handed her the phone. “This device is in need of watering.”

Marinette plugged it in. “Enjoying your podcast?”

“I say, it’s a glorious rendition of the histories of equestrian activities.”

Plagg’s eyes narrowed on Marinette.

“Here, you can use my phone to find another one to listen to,” she said, hoping to appease her. “Maybe try watching My Little Pony?”

“How kind, hero. The Guardian chose wisely to entrust me and my mighty power to you.” Kaalki took her phone without hesitation, diving back into her bag.

Plagg’s whiskers twitched. “I bet Aphid gave her to you on purpose because he couldn’t stand her anymore.”

“Now you’re just being mean. Maybe all of you kwamis are over the top and need to deal with it.”

Plagg drooped. “Tikki isn’t like that.”

Her phone blasted the akuma alert sound from her bag, causing Kaalki to zoom out with it, yelling, “Mischief’s afoot!”

Plagg huffed. “Finally, something to do!”

It was clear Plagg hated New York if he preferred to go fight akumas, especially as frequently as they’d happened this week. And Marinette shouldn’t have been thrilled with the chance to go see Adrien, albeit not as herself.

She transformed, unifying the kwamis together and teleporting to Paris. It was the middle of the night. It still disoriented her to do the five hour time difference, especially if it was literal night in one place and day in the other.

Lady Noir followed the sound of screaming to find the akumatized person—a lady who appeared as some sort of walking humanoid sea monster who was busy splattering the city in slime. She was yelling something about polluting the oceans which, of course, was a completely valid thing to be upset about.

Aphid landed next to her, as dashing as ever.

“I don’t think she got the memo that spewing magical toxic waste everywhere is not, in fact, going to help the world’s pollution problems,” Lady Noir commented.

“Maybe we should print her out some pamphlets.” He flashed a grin before going back into work mode. “Looks like that slime turns people into goo monsters that zombify anything they touch.”

“Lovely. Reminds me of that Pokémon game where the bad guys want to destroy land and make the world all ocean.” She rested her chin on her baton. “Not exactly well thought out.”

Aphid removed his yo-yo from his belt. “Especially for you, being anti-bath and all.”

She rolled her eyes. This whole summer, he’d started lightening up. It was great, really, but she didn’t know what had caused the change. Maybe it was just an acceptance of his role as Guardian, but nowadays he was spending all his free time going to hospitals, helping the homeless, and working on spreading awareness for things like human trafficking, mental illness, and other terrible problems of the world.

For some reason, it made her feel like she didn’t know him. That she was missing something integral to who he was. He never talked about the change and she never brought it up.

“So, Camelot, how are we doing this?” he asked.

“I thought we agreed to no new superhero names.” She launched herself off the building, landing behind the villain and sweeping their legs.

Aphid tied her up, but not before a wave of sludge launched his way. “It’s a nickname, kitty. No need to get your claws out.”

She waved her baton around to block it from hitting him. If she had fur, it would bristle. Kitty was Adrien’s nickname for her, but Aphid had started using it like he owned it. “How about we stick to our chosen names?”

Aphid wrapped his arm around Lady Noir’s waist and shoved them sideways as the villain rushed at them. They went rolling, with him landing on top. Instead of getting off her, he smirked.

She let out an exasperated sigh, shoving him off with her baton, sending him flying. She swept the swamp monster’s legs again, taking the time to search for the akumatized object, which, of course, was probably under all the layers of gunk.

“Lucky Charm!” Aphid produced a polka dotted bath bomb.

“Great. Something easy enough to interpret for once,” Lady Noir said.

He pulled out the Dragon Miraculous, unifying him to Tikki. “Water Dragon!”

Aphid blasted the water at the monster, combining his liquid body with the bath bomb.

As soon as Aphid was free of her, she Cataclysmed the plastic bottle gripped in her hand. The akuma was captured, purified, and everything was set right.

“Glad that’s all cleaned up.” Aphid dusted off his hands as he landed on the rooftop next to her. “We might even have time to, I don’t know, actually enjoy a very late evening together?”

“You’re still dirty.” She crossed her arms.

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow, as if the thought amused him. “How so?”

“What’s this whole new dynamic you have going on?” Lady Noir gestured to him. “You’re suddenly all confident about being Aphid and flirting with me?”

He shrugged. “I decided to have fun with it. Life is better that way.”

“And the flirting?”

“Paris eats it up.”

“Yes, they do. But they make up stories about all of it, even when you’re faking it.”

“Faking it,” he repeated. “Right.”

She stared, trying to figure him out. “Really, I promise I’m over you. You don’t have to put on a charade for me.”

“I know you are,” he said the words easily, his face open and sincere.

It made her stomach uneasy. “I don’t want anything to happen to our partnership. You were right about that. Paris is too important.” Plus she was in love with someone else now. “You’re not…having feelings, are you?”

Aphid had admitted to being in love with Lady Noir once. Not to Lady Noir, of course, but to Marinette. And then promptly almost got akumatized for being heartbroken over her.

Which meant her and Aphid being together would be a very, very bad idea.

“Don’t worry. I know we’re not a thing.” Regardless, he picked up her hand, kissing her knuckles, as usual, his eyes peeking up at her with some sort of expectation she didn’t know how to meet. “It’s just nice to be more myself with someone, my lady.”

“You’re really putting me at ease,” she said softly, not wanting to hurt him with her normal dryness.

Aphid smiled. “I’m glad you’re my partner.”

Her Miraculous beeped. “See you next time?”

“Enjoy your trip, kitty.”

Marinette waited for him to leave so she could feed Kaalki and Plagg, needing to let Kaalki recharge. She debated going to see Adrien. He should be asleep by now. It’d be easy to go curl up with him in bed, a favorite pastime of hers. She didn’t sleep as well in America, but she always slept soundly in his arms.

But she’d just seen Adrien and she was really behind on schoolwork.

Trying not to pout, she transformed again, heading through a portal that took her right outside her dorm window, grateful her roommate wasn’t there to see her go in. After hopping inside, she transformed back into Marinette—a normal girl with a normal life.

“Aphid’s been so weird,” she murmured to herself as she gathered her notes from class.

“You’d think he was the one with the Miraculous of Destruction,” Plagg mused. “I wonder if he knows how cheesy he sounds.”

She threw a pillow at him. “By saying that, you’re saying I sound cheesy.”

“You both give cheese a bad name,” Plagg sniffed. “Whoever made up that saying deserves to be Cataclysmed.”

Marinette opened her laptop to start doing homework, which she was behind on. By a lot. Keeping up in high school wasn’t nearly as hard, even with her dance schedule. It’s not like the work itself was super challenging, she just didn’t have the motivation.

And her grades were slipping.

“Wow.” Plagg stared at her grades over her shoulder. “Isn’t that the letter Americans say is failing?”

She shut her laptop, gritting her teeth. “I don’t think so.”

For once, Plagg was actually right. The only good thing was he hadn’t seen the emails from her teachers claiming that she only had so many chances before she was kicked out of the school.

Marinette pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them. What would Adrien say if he knew how she was squandering the opportunity he’d given her?  

She’d just have to work harder. It’s not like she was a stranger to blood, sweat, and tears. She could pull through…right?

Her phone rang. Her willpower, which had deteriorated over the summer, prompted her to pick up the phone immediately. She almost dropped it when she saw the caller ID—Adrien Agreste.

Oh, God. She started trying to check her appearance before realizing it wasn’t a video call. Still, her voice was probably going to sound off, given how close she’d been to crying.

She cleared her throat, hoping it would help. “Hey, Adrien.”

Yeah, she sounded like a choking baby seal. Plagg pretended to die of embarrassment. She swatted him away.

“Hey, Marinette.”

His voice sounded off too. “Is everything all right? Isn’t it really early over there?”

“We had an akuma attack, so I’m just awake for the day now. Besides that, things have been great.” He paused. “Well, you know, same old Paris. How are you? How’s New York?”

“Still amazing,” she lied. “And no, I haven’t gone to see the giant lady statue, as you keep calling it. I’m busy, okay? I still don’t get your fascination with it.”

“I know we Parisians first thought the Eiffel Tower was an eyesore, but to me it’s way better than a green lady.”

“Joke’s on you, Pigeon. The French gifted it to the Americans.”

“Who voted for that?”

She let out a soft laugh.

“How’s dance?”

Her face fell. Her hand came over her chest, gripping her pajama shirt. “Busy. Been working on a pretty big routine. Thanks again for this opportunity, by the way.”

“You got there yourself.”

And she was about to get herself kicked out of it. “We both know this wouldn’t have happened without you pulling some strings. I hope I can do my best here to earn it, you know?”

“You’ve more than earned it, Slippers.”

The tears were back. She blinked them away. “Thanks.”

An awkward silence descended. “So…something crazy happened to me this week.”

“Did you get turned into a pocket watch?”

“No, that was a few weeks ago. Time flies.” He paused, as if to see if she’d laugh at his joke. She didn’t. “What happened is one of the producers reached out to me from the show and was asking if I was interested in returning for a new dance show. Well, they really wanted to know if we’d return. Together.”

A new dance show. With Adrien.

She took what felt like her first deep breath since arriving in America. She imagined being in the studio with him, all day, every day. Developing choreography that fit their styles. Not having to worry about grades or time changes or ignorant Americans who didn’t give her any leeway for being a superhero.

Not that Parisians gave her any leeway either, but at least not as many people bugged her about being late to things. Not in a place where akuma attacks interrupted life on a daily basis.

Marinette was about to blurt out that she’d want nothing more than to sign up, but then she realized Adrien might not want to do the show. She was actually surprised he’d even bring up the opportunity at all, given he wasn’t a professional dancer. He was probably ecstatic not to be waking up early and working his butt off every day, lying to the press about dating her.

She bit the inside of her cheek. “What do you think?”

“I told them I’d have to ask you about it. You know, since you’re in school at Julliard, which is exactly where you’ve always wanted to be.”

Her hand started shaking. Did she tell him that she was about to get booted out of the program? Would he even want to do the show with a loser? “Adrien?”

“Yes?”

“Did you want to do the competition?”

“I don’t want to get in the way of your dream.”

“But do you want to do the competition?”

He didn’t even pause. “Yes.”

Was his eagerness for her, or because he actually wanted to? Still, she was too desperate to leave America. She jumped at the chance. “Then I’ll come be in the show.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“I honestly really miss home. It’s kind of scary, thinking about all the akuma attacks all the time. And people here aren’t very sensitive about it. They think it’s a hoax or something, so if I’m waiting for news to make sure you all are okay, people get mad at me for not paying attention or being late or whatever. And despite being surrounded by people who I thought would understand me more, it’s been harder than ever to make friends, which is really saying something given our rough start.”

“I’m sorry it’s been so hard. You haven’t told me about any of that.”

How could she, when he had done so much for her? “I didn’t want you to worry. It’s really not terrible, it’s just different than I imagined.” She glanced at her laptop, thinking of her failing grades. “That’s all.”

“Still…I don’t want you to miss out on everything you ever wanted.”

“You and me being on the show together would definitely give me everything I wanted.”

“Me too.”

Her face flushed. “Were there, uh, stipulations to the kind of relationship they wanted us to have?”

“I asked about that and they didn’t say we needed to be together or not, though they did make it clear that they’d be marketing us a lot as either together or potentially together, depending on where we are.” The sound muffled as he adjusted his phone. “They seem a bit less malicious than Sensational so far, but that doesn’t mean we won’t get our own share of drama.”

“Did you have a preference as to whether we’re dating or not?”

According to the news, it didn’t seem like anyone was sure if Marinette and Adrien were still dating. They’d kind of dropped off the face of the earth after Sensational and it wasn’t until recently that people had started realizing that Marinette had moved to America. Not that she cared what people thought about their relationship or lack thereof.

“No, I don’t have a preference,” Adrien answered.

Just her luck that he was letting her pick. She couldn’t muster the courage to ask why he would even be fine with fake dating her again when it’d seemed to cause nothing but trouble. She didn’t want to do that to him again.

“We could be friends,” Marinette suggested. “Since that’s what we are. And if we want to change our minds later for whatever reason, like the producers want us to be a couple, I guess maybe we can change?”

She was such a chicken.

“If that’s what makes you most comfortable, that works for me.”

Comfortable. That’s what he wanted. She studied the tiny space of her dorm, every fiber of her wanting out. If doing the show with Adrien as friends was what was going to get her home and spending time with him, then that’s what she would do. “It’s a deal, then.”

“Are you really sure you want to leave Juilliard?” he asked again.

“I promise this is what I want. Don’t worry, you’re not making me do anything I don’t want to do.”

“Marinette?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t forget to pack your slippers.”

She let out a little laugh. “Start stretching again, Pigeon. I’ll need you in top form when I see you.”

Marinette hung up, grinning from ear to ear. “Pack up your cheese, Plagg. We’re going home.”

Chapter Text

Lady Noir took the familiar route to Adrien’s window, careful to make sure she wasn’t spotted. She’d decided (mostly because Plagg had nagged her) to “break up” with him as Lady Noir, as painful as it was not to visit him.

He was right, but she wasn’t going to enjoy this conversation at all.

Lady Noir maneuvered until she hung outside his lit window, catching the murmur of his voice.

Sometimes she caught Adrien talking to himself, but she never mentioned it to him. If she’d had a crazy father who had locked her up for years, she’d have talked out loud to herself too. To keep him from embarrassment, she always tried to make her presence known as soon as possible with a little bit of noise, though she couldn’t help but get a bit of pleasure watching him jump when he didn’t hear her.

This time, she knocked before climbing through the glass.

He bolted to standing from the couch as she let herself into his apartment. “Hey.”

She straightened, taking in his paleness. “Oh, God.”

“What?”

“You want to have ‘a talk’.” She used air quotes, shriveling her nose.

His shoulders fell. “How did you know?”

“Every girl knows that sound of ‘hey’.”

She’d been about to use it herself.

Adrien frowned. “I didn’t know there was a certain inflection.”

“Let’s just get this over with. Give me your speech.”

He stared at her, dumbfounded, as if he hadn’t thought to prepare one. “You know how it is, Lady Noir. We can’t really be a couple with your secret identity and…I think we both deserve better than that.”

She peered into his eyes, skeptical. “Why all of a sudden?”

“I had a talk with a friend.” He paused. “They don’t know who you are, of course, but given my vague description of our situation they kind of talked me into this seriously not working out. Do you think it could?”

“Unless Hawk Moth wasn’t around, no. And I’d rather you not get caught up in all of this anyway.”

Yet again, another reason why her relationship with Adrien as Lady Noir was a bad idea.

“So…we’re in agreement then. To stop seeing one another like this?”

It was such coincidental timing that he was bringing this up when she was flying back from America in a few hours. “I guess I shouldn’t ask if this is about another girl.”

“Uh…”

She held back a curse for breaking her rules of not asking about herself. “Don’t answer that. I shouldn’t know.”

“You don’t seem very upset?”

“You’re right, Adrien. I knew this wouldn’t last either. It was more of a distraction.”

But leaving him was harder than she’d thought it would be. Adrien’s apartment was a safe place where she didn’t have to be a superhero or Marinette. No obligations, just cuddling with her favorite person, where they opened their hearts and shared secrets.

“Does that mean you’re still in love with Aphid?”

The question startled her. “No, I don’t love him like that. We’re in a better place now, but there’s only friendship between us.”

“I’m glad it’s gotten better.”

“Me too.” She kissed his cheek. “I have enjoyed seeing you, Adrien.”

“I’ve enjoyed seeing you too.” He cleared his throat. “Among other things.”

She didn’t want to leave. This is what she’d come here to do, to break ties, but even knowing she would get to be with him as Marinette, she would miss the relationship she was able to have with him as Lady Noir, where it felt like it was them against the world. "Adrien?"

“Yes?”

"Can I take a picture of you?" At his confused blink, she added, "I don't like looking at pictures of you online since it feels...sketchy. So I was hoping to have one of you that I've taken that you actually would want me to look at."

"Seems kind of couple-like, doesn't it?"

"I know. I'm sorry. I know we're not..." She took a deep breath, trying to get her eyes from prickling. "I'm going to miss you."

He leaned close, voice low. "How do you want me?"

Blood rushed to her cheeks. He may as well have been catnip. "Um, natural? I mean, not natural. That sounded..." Like something Lady Noir would actually say that she wouldn't mean. "Whatever you're comfortable with, but something that's you and not forced."

His finger came under her chin, his lip quirking up. "It's cute when you're flustered."

She scrambled away from him with as much grace and dignity as she could muster. "Just pose, would you?"

Adrien exhaled dramatically. "Fine. Is what I'm wearing okay?"

He'd look good in a paper bag. Instead, he was sporting Lady Noir sweatpants and a white t-shirt, which was so incredibly sexy and romantic. She was surprised he didn't spontaneously combust at any given moment.

She held up her baton, putting it in camera mode. "It suffices."

He snorted at her bluff. "Where do you want me?"

"You're the model. Shouldn't you know?"

"You're the photographer." He draped himself on the couch until he was lounging. "How about you draw me like one of your French girls?"

Lady Noir looked up from her screen. "Did no one ever tell you that's incredibly annoying to French people?"

"I still find it funny and I'm French."

"Don't tell the public. They'll riot."

He sat up, still in one of his modeling poses. "You're not taking pictures."

Lady Noir lowered her baton. "My favorite pictures are the ones of people living their everyday lives without paying any attention to the camera. The ones taken in secret."

"So you're going to break into my apartment tonight and get some of me sleeping?"

She pushed him into the back of the couch. "I wouldn't do that without your permission."

His eyes trailed to her lips. "Are you tempted?"

Her face twitched as she backed away. "You make cute faces when you're asleep."

Adrien put a hand on his chest. "I’m both flattered and terrified."

She snapped a picture, beaming at how it turned out, showing it to him. "See? Genuine."

"Wow." He zoomed in. "I actually look happy."

Lady Noir hated that he had to fake being happy in front of cameras. She understood it was basically an acting job, but it was never one he'd chosen.

He smiled at her. "You bring out a side of me I didn't know I had. Thanks, Lady Noir."

She gripped her baton behind her back, trying not to look at her feet. It meant so much to her to hear that she made Adrien's life better, but it hurt to think she couldn't do that as Marinette. And what if she was giving up seeing this side of Adrien now that she wouldn't be around as Lady Noir?

"I sound like a stupid fan," she muttered, needing something to remember him by, "but can I get a picture with you too?"

"Only if you share it with me so I can have a picture of you."

"Do you trust me not to post it anywhere?" she asked.

"Do you trust me not to?"

"It's your safety that's in jeopardy if it got out."

"I know you wouldn't post it." Adrien nodded to her baton. "Take the picture."

They stood close together. She couldn't help but feel like jumping out of her skin, which didn't make much sense as close as she was used to being to him. But this, the normalcy of a selfie, knowing it was her last interaction with him like this, made the whole thing crackle with a disquieting tension.

His body melted into hers, nearly making her shudder. "Get close. Capture what we're really like."

Her eyes met his, taken aback by how precious every moment she'd ever had with Adrien was.

His lips came to her forehead, then hovered near hers, their noses touching. The first few pictures she took must have been blurry and at least slightly out of frame, but they were definitely in the moment, drinking each other in. He kissed her cheek next before pulling away, communicating something with only his eyes that she didn't really understand. Not when they weren't a couple. Not when he didn't know who she actually was.

"I'd love one of us actually looking at the camera," he murmured, adjusting both of their bodies for a selfie. "Maybe this is a stupid thing to ask and I know you're into the sincerity of pictures, but I do want one of those radiant smiles you give me when you're up to no good."

She nearly laughed. "That's what it looks like to you?"

Adrien grabbed the baton to see the latest picture in question, showing it to her. "Definitely."

Lady Noir's face stared back, a grin stretched across her face. Adrien's playful smirk filled the rest of the frame, the two of them practically cuddled together.

Lady Noir sent every picture to his phone from her baton’s anonymous, cryptic number.

"We look cute," Adrien said.

She agreed. She wished she could make it her background, but it was too risky. She'd have to keep it hidden in her camera roll, hoping no one ever stole her phone and found it.

Just like her relationship with Adrien when it came to Lady Noir.

They stood in silence, neither of them seeming willing to part. Her fingers skimmed his wrist, her heart aching. “One more for the road?”

“You get a peck.”

Her fingers tickled up his arms, wanting to trap him to her forever. “What if I steal something more?”

Adrien touched her cheek. “I didn’t take you for a cat burglar.”

She nuzzled into it momentarily before meeting his lips softly. She lingered, but didn’t cross his boundaries.

He kissed her forehead. “I’m going to miss you.”

Her voice almost cracked. “This isn’t goodbye forever, is it?”

“No. Come visit me whenever you’d like. You always have a place here.”

She almost started crying with relief as she kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Adrien.” Lady Noir climbed onto the window sill. She propped her knee up, letting one leg dangle over the side, taking one last look. “I really do feel at home with you.”

His smile was more pained this time.

She disappeared outside, back to roaming like a stray. Wondering if Adrien would ever love Marinette the same way. If he could love her more than his kitty.

Chapter Text

Stay cool, stay cool, stay cool, stay cool.

Adrien was at the airport, trying to keep from tapping his foot as he waited for Marinette. It was a little strange that she’d asked if he could pick her up, given her parents probably would call first dibs, but she said they’d had some sort of catering function that would last all day and they weren’t able to.

Which was fine by him, because he couldn’t wait another minute more to see her, even if it had only been the summer.

It was somewhat bittersweet, knowing he wouldn’t be seeing Lady Noir as himself anytime soon, but “breaking up” with her had been the best course of action. Nothing could come from a relationship with her. They were still on good terms and now, maybe Lady Noir could find someone to love her without her mask and he could do the same.

He tried to keep his thoughts busy figuring out how to greet Marinette. Ideally, he would run to her. Pick her up, spin her around, and she’d chastise his form and probably get all grumpy that he was causing such a scene, but (hopefully) secretly like it. But was that too over the top?

Heck, he’d love if she was thrilled to see him, even if it was only because they were friends. Yes, they’d been texting and talking all summer, but that didn’t mean they were as close as before.

Adrien rolled his shoulders back. He’d do what felt natural.

It wasn’t much longer before he caught a glimpse of her walking towards him. He couldn’t move. She was absolutely gorgeous. Even after an international flight, she was walking with that graceful dancer confidence that he loved so much.

He hadn’t run at the sight of her. He’d frozen, unable to process the rush of relief that Marinette was finally home. His mouth was open by the time she got in front of him, in the flesh.

“You’ve got a cross-eyed look, Pigeon.” She cocked her head to the side, her smile daring. “Am I really making you that speechless?”

Adrien flushed. “It’s been so long.”

His words dried up, his brain shutting down. She was in Paris, close enough to touch, and he had no idea what to say. He decided to be truthful. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

“It’s good to be home.”

Home. Yes. He could finally breathe again, now that she was here.

He inhaled, still taking her in. “You got your hair cut.”

She ran her fingers through her bob. “Does it look okay?”

“Are you kidding? You look—” Amazing. Spectacular. Sexy. “Super French.”

Her lips turned up. “That’s the description you’re going to give it?”

“I love it,” he emphasized, already sweating. “Wow, it’s so nice to see you in person.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He forced himself not to chicken out. “I don’t know if you noticed, Marinette, but you’re my best friend.”

She looked like she was biting back a smile. “I don’t know if you noticed, Adrien, but you’re my best friend too.”

He was ecstatic to be that, but also, he wished for so much more.

And they still hadn’t hugged. It was the most natural thing in the world, to hug her, but he was suddenly second guessing every decision he’d ever made in his life. Without permission, he started thinking about how easy it’d been to casually touch Lady Noir, who he definitely shouldn’t be thinking about the second Marinette got back.

“You’re making me nervous,” she said, eyeing him. “Did someone die while I was gone?”

“No.” He waved his hands to emphasize. He stopped after realizing how ridiculous he looked. “It’s just…it’s so nice to see you.”

He could tell she was debating making fun of him for saying that twice.

Marinette nudged him towards the baggage claims. “Let’s go get my other bags.”

“Right.” Stupid, stupid, stupid. Now when was he supposed to hug her? Never again? Had he missed his only chance and now he was forced to talk about mundane, trivial things like the weather? “How was the flight?”

“Long.” She pointed to a suitcase. “Can you grab that one? It’s mine.”

Adrien mentally shook himself as he hauled her bag off the conveyor belt. He’d had plenty of conversations with Marinette. He was practically the king of suave. “Not too much turbulence?”

“Nope.”

He wracked his brain for something clever to say. “They didn’t serve au grautin potatoes?”

There, the first elicited smile. “No, they didn’t. I was saved.”

He smiled back, relieved. He knew how to talk to Marinette. He didn’t have to be nervous about this.

Adrien finished gathering the bags. They started walking out of the airport. “I guess you want to get dropped off at your parents’ place?”

“They’ll be busy with that catering thing, remember?” She bumped her hip into his. “You have me for the night and, if you didn’t already know, jet lag rules demand I stay up until it’s actually my bed time.”

He swallowed, surprised by the seduction that seemed laced into her words. He threw on a charming smile. “How should we celebrate you being back, Slippers?”

Her smirk rivaled Lady Noir’s.

/ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

They ended up back at his place, his coffee table pushed into the kitchen as they took turns finding songs to dance to. They kept the volume relatively low despite their dance party and he hoped their footwork wasn’t disturbing his neighbors, but he still couldn’t help but want this to continue forever.

They formed a song queue so they could dance uninterrupted, each song building on their high. He couldn’t be happier, having Marinette back in Paris, promised as his dance partner. From the way she danced, she felt the same way.

Their dancing was casual. For once, she moved in a way that was lax and silly, nothing like the last time they’d danced during the competition. It made him wish he had some props and costumes to build into her carefree air. Who knows, maybe if he wore a feathered boa and fake mustache, he could get her to laugh.

For the most part, they kept their dancing separate. His fingers ached for a reason to touch her. Her presence was heady, filling every molecule of his body, making him feel whole for the first time since she’d left.

She inhaled sharply as the song changed, grabbing his wrist. “This is my favorite one.”

He listened to the lyrics. “Taylor Swift?”

“Yes!”

“She’s great,” he said.

“You like Taylor Swift?”

“Yeah? I mean…her first album isn’t exactly my favorite, but Lover, Midnights, and 1989 are amazing. Not to mention Reputation—”

“You’re perfect,” she breathed, pausing the song, as if she needed time to process that fact.

He knew she didn’t mean he was actually perfect, and normally people calling him perfect rubbed him the wrong way. But the way she said it, like he was everything she ever wanted, filled him with this sense of hope that maybe some people could know him, the real him, and actually find him to be someone they not only genuinely liked, imperfections and all, but wanted and needed in some unfathomable way.

He didn’t understand how that worked, but he wanted that to be true of how Marinette felt about him, regardless. And he didn’t think being a Swiftie really counted as a sincere utterance of how perfect he was from absolutely anyone.

“Let’s see if you can keep up.”

She pressed play. It was more than just Taylor Swift. Judging by the first few lines, it was a montage of her entire musical career.

Marinette took on a completely different air, eyes bright as she faced him. His breath caught as she started strutting towards him, radiating confidence. Challenging him.

All this time I was wasting hoping you would come around (you can hear it in the silence).

She turned her back to him, pressing her body into his.      

He spun her around, forcing her to face him, hands coming to her cheeks, not having to try to look irrevocably in love with her.

The next set of lyrics had her spinning away, You should’ve said no. Can you feel this magic in the air? Come on, come on, don’t leave me like this.

He picked her up, spinning, In the middle of the night, in my dreams (lover).

Just like that, they were crafting an entire routine in his living room. A messy one, but one bursting with the joy of dance that she’d lacked at the beginning of the competition. And, somehow, he wasn’t struggling to keep up. He followed her lead, doing his best when he recognized the lyrics, even though they constantly shifted to a new song.

He loved it. He loved her. She was ecstatic, her hair wild around her cheeks, face tilting towards the ceiling, arms out and twirling around on her bare feet.

The song crept to an end. He drew her into his arms, slow dancing with her. When he nuzzled the side of her face, her arms tightened around him. Her hands came to his neck, tickling his hairline.

He met her twinkling eyes, breathless. God, he’d missed her.

Adrien desperately wanted to kiss her. She was right there, right in front of him, her face vulnerable and affectionate. 

“That was amazing,” he ended up saying. “I’ve never heard a mega mix like that for her before.”

“A fan made it.” She brushed her hair out of her face. “It’s currently my favorite thing.”

I thought I was your favorite thing, he wanted to tease, but was too scared of what the answer would be. He stayed focused on being a Swiftie. “She’s really nice, you know. I’m guessing you’ve never seen her tour if you’ve never left France?”

“I…” She blinked a few times, her hand curling into his hair. “You’ve met her?”

“I’m Adrien Agreste.” That was explanation enough. She started smacking his chest. “Ow! Why are you hitting me!?”

“You’ve met her and you didn’t think to tell me?”

He started rubbing the spot. “I didn’t know you cared!”

“Have you even been listening to every other music suggestion I had for our third dance routine?” She planted her hands on his chest, making him recoil. “She hasn’t toured here since 2011. I was too small to comprehend her awesomeness then.”

“Tragic.”

“It is! I would be a backup dancer for her like that.” She snapped her fingers, then put them closer to her face and snapped again, once for each word. “Like. That.”

“Okay, crazy.” He took a step back. “I’ll text her and see if she’s ever in Paris, if she can meet you.”

Her whole body froze up. “You…have Taylor Swift’s number?”

Suddenly, his phone felt like the Ark of the Covenant. Before he could contemplate hiding it, he heard sniffling. “Uh…are you crying?”

She brushed her eyes. “You’re so mean to keep this secret from me.”

“I had no idea you liked her this much,” he said. “You’re so standoffish about basically everything.”

“Except Taylor Swift.” She grabbed his hands. “Please don’t make me sound crazy if you ever text her about me.”

“You’re kind of famous too now, you know,” he said. “How about you make like a Swiftie and calm down?”

She groaned. “You even know her songs. How have we not talked about this before?”

“Speaking of Swift songs, I had one for the competition I thought would match us well.”

“Us?”

“Lady Noir and Aphid,” he corrected, trying not to blush. It was a bit much for him to admit it was about how he felt about Marinette. “If we did decide to pretend to be them for another round.”

She handed him her phone. “Let’s hear it.” She held up a finger. “Not that I don’t know it, but I want to hear it with fresh ears.”

“Of course, Swiftie.”

He pulled up I Can See You, hitting play, keeping quiet as the song came to life.

Adrien couldn’t help but smile as she got in her head, thinking of all the choreo possibilities. She reached out to trace his body, this time focusing on molding his arm and hands into perfect form.

He’d missed everything with her.

Her fingers stopped moving at, And we kept everything professional. But something's changed, it's something I, I like.

Is that how you feel? he wanted to ask. They were having such an amazing time that he doubted she could feel differently, but thinking that felt so wrong. He didn’t want to be perceiving her the wrong way. Maybe she really was just perfectly content being friends.

“I like it,” Marinette said as it came to an end. “It matches them perfectly, if they did end up having a secret romance.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“I think people will think it applies to us as well,” she added.

“Would that be so bad?” he murmured.

She looked up at him, trusting. “No.”

“Then I guess we have our first song?”

She stood on tiptoe, hugging herself to him. “It’s good to be back.”

He picked her up, her dangling legs immediately hooking around his hips. As much as he wanted more than friendship, nothing could really beat this. “I missed you too, Slippers.”

Chapter Text

Marinette squealed into her pillow. She was exhausted, with a growing headache from jetlag, but nothing could keep her down after her amazing night with Adrien.

“My poor stomach,” Plagg whined.

“What are you complaining about? We’re back in Paris!” Marinette sat up in bed, doing a little dance.

“And you’ve been insufferable ever since.”

“I got to see Adrien as me.” She put a hand over her heart. “And we danced to Taylor Swift. And he held me like I was his everything.”

“He used to do that to Lady Noir.”

“You’re the one who told me to break it off with him as her.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t realize you’d be ten times more insufferable around him as Marinette.”

She frowned, leaning over her bed’s railing, finding Plagg meticulously unpacking his cheese. “Do you have to ruin everything?”

“I’m not ruining anything, kid. I’m stating a fact.”

“Adrien and Lady Noir talked it over. It was just a fling.”

“Yeah, and now he’s looking at you like you’re the air he breathes?” He shuddered. “You humans are disgusting with your romance.”

“Says the kwami who’s obsessed with Tikki.”

“I’m not obsessed.”

“You once made a cheese sculpture of her. And then ate it. I can’t even begin to imagine what kind of psychological issues that implies.”

“We’re talking about you, not me.” He sniffed. “Just tell the guy you love him.”

She tried to think of all the cons to that option. She’d been lying to him about being Lady Noir, which held more weight considering she’d been his secret girlfriend all summer long, but it wasn’t like she could tell him that. And he obviously liked both sides of her for it to maybe be a good thing. Either way, Marinette highly doubted Adrien would ever stop being her friend just because she had feelings for him. He was such a gentleman. She could handle him saying no if it meant she could at least be his friend.

“You know what? I think you’re right.”

“Wait, what?”

“What’s the worst that can happen?” she asked. “If he doesn’t like me, then I’ll just go back to visiting him as Lady Noir.”

Plagg groaned. “That’s not healthy.”

“Would it seriously be the worst thing ever if I told one person I’m Lady Noir?” she asked. “It’s Adrien. He’d keep it a secret.”

“You know the drill, Marinette. It’s in case he’s akumatized.”

“Lady Noir isn’t as important as Aphid,” she retorted. “Aphid could wipe the floor with Hawk Moth.”

“If that were true, he’d already have done it.”

“I’m going to tell him how I feel,” Marinette decided. “In two days, when we see each other for the first day of shooting.”

It may not be the most ideal day, but it was high time she was honest with him. She wanted to be honest with him.

Even if it cost her.

/ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Adrien had spent practically every moment of his free time since Marinette had come back thinking. And thinking. And thinking. It was clearly driving Tikki mad, but she’d stayed patient with him, which was more than he deserved.

“Adrien?”

“Yes, Sunshine?”

“Are you really in love with Lady Noir?”

“I don’t know.” It pained him to admit that. “I guess it doesn’t matter now considering I called it off.”

Tikki had convinced him to after Marinette had agreed to come home. His heart was definitely torn up and confused, given how ecstatic he was to have Marinette back and how lonely his apartment was without Lady Noir.

“Do you love Marinette?”

Hearing her name was another shot to the heart. “I’m going to do whatever makes it so we can do this show together.”

Tikki touched his temple. “That wasn’t an answer.”

“Marinette never thought of me like that,” he said. “Otherwise, she would have said something.”

“You mean like how you’ve told her exactly how you feel?” Tikki asked, her voice clearly edging towards sarcasm, a rarity for her.

He ignored her. “Lady Noir understands me. I’m happy with her.”

“But she doesn’t know you’re Aphid.”

“Marinette doesn’t know I’m Aphid either. I’m lying to both of them. It would be so much easier if Aphid and Lady Noir could date,” he muttered. “But she doesn’t love him anymore.”

“But it’s you.”

“I know, but she can’t know that.” He sighed, flopping back into bed. “Why can’t I have one person who knows all of me and loves me anyway? Would that really be so much to ask?”

“You’d be putting them in danger if they knew.”

Which he definitely didn’t want. He remembered how scared he’d been after kissing Marinette as Aphid. He’d almost been akumatized, and that was without having telling anyone his secret identity.

Tikki interrupted his thoughts. “I think you should tell Marinette how you feel.”

“How can I? Even if I didn’t mind losing her friendship, we still have to do this new show together, not to mention I’ve been kissing Lady Noir.”

“You two never really agreed to be together though, did you?”

“Of course we hadn’t. She’s a superhero. She can’t actually agree to be my girlfriend.”

And it was unsettling, to think about them being an actual couple. Not because he was ashamed of Lady Noir, but because a relationship with a superhero made everything difficult and secretive.

“Which is why I think you should focus on Marinette.” Tikki touched his cheek. “It would be good for Lady Noir to move on too. Meet a boy without the mask, one whose safety she doesn’t have to worry about.”

“I’m still constantly lying. You heard me and Marinette fight forever ago about missing Alya’s party. And she’s pretty chill about me flaking on most other things and barely ever brought it up, but it still causes problems.”

“But at least you and Lady Noir could both be out in public with whoever you both choose. I think that’s worth this heartache.”

“Maybe. I’m just not even sure I can claim I love Marinette if I’m also interested in Lady Noir. It’s not right to be interested in two different girls, Tikki. I’m doing both of them a disservice.”

Tikki frowned. “This won’t last forever.”

He doubted that very much, with the way Hawk Moth stuck to the shadows. But he rubbed her head and gave her an encouraging smile anyway. “You’re right. It won’t.”

Adrien stared up at the ceiling, blocking out the whispers and giggles of the kwamis in the other room, his heart starting to pick up speed. He’d purposefully tried not to think about Hawk Moth hurting Marinette for as long as he could, but his worry was inevitable.

She was back and had no way of protecting herself. Her rise to stardom meant Hawk Moth would know she’s back and, more than likely, use it to his advantage.

Which meant Aphid should stay the hell away from her.

His phone dinged. He picked it up, reading a message from Marinette, I couldn’t help myself. I’m at the studio, if you want to join me.

He thought through some new excuses he’d made. Sorry. I’m on a really long business call with Nathalie. I don’t think it’s going to end anytime soon. I’d appreciate thoughts and prayers in this difficult time.

She texted back an eyeroll emoji with praying hands.

“That should buy me some time,” he murmured. “Tikki, spots on.”

/ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Aphid didn’t give himself much time to watch Marinette from the window, not wanting to be a creep. She was, of course, dancing, though the movements were a lot less determined than normal. It wasn’t like her to be on autopilot.

He slipped inside. “Hey.”

She whirled, reeling back with a shriveled nose. “Oh, it’s just you.”

Aphid hadn’t been expecting that dismissive of a response. It’s only him, the most famous and popular person in Paris.

Who’d really screwed up their last meeting. He really shouldn’t be here.

Marinette turned back around, a bit breathless this time. “I mean oh, wow. It’s you.”

“You can spare me the charade.” Though it didn’t make sense why the girl who planned Aphid Day wouldn’t care that he showed up. “I’m sure you’re not thrilled to see me.”

“What are you doing here?”

A hopeful thought formed in his head. “Were you hoping I was someone else?”

“Uh…I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

Maybe she thought Adrien would finish up his phone call with Nathalie and head over. Surely she hadn’t invited anyone else to dance with her. “Who was that boy you were dating?” He put a hand under his chin, pretending to try to remember. “That model?”

“Adrien Agreste?”

“That’s the one.” He snapped his fingers. “Are you two still dating?”

Her shoulders drooped. “Don’t remind me.”

“What does that mean?”

“We’re about to start another dance show thing and I think we’re probably going to get pressured into being all cheesy romantic again. I hate it.”

He wanted to curl up in a ball on the floor. “That bad?”

“Excruciatingly so.”

Adrien was that painful to be around? He really shouldn’t have asked and now he was paying for it. “Why did you say yes to the show if you hate him?”

“I don’t hate him.” Her eyes widened, cheeks red. “He’s my favorite person.”

“But you can’t stand to be around him?”

“I don’t like the fake aspect of our relationship.”

She’d always said she never liked fake things. “So…the romance aspect isn’t real?”

“Not for the cameras,” she mumbled.

What did that mean for him?

Marinette rubbed her face. “Your love life can’t be this complicated.”

“It unfortunately is.” 

She looked at him. He’d missed her so much. Even after hearing that she basically hated dating him, he wanted to wrap her in his arms. Trail kisses along her face. Find peace in the fact that they were finally together again.

Tikki was right. Being able to be Adrien with Marinette was a much healthier relationship. They could actually go do things together in public, hang out with friends, and tell each other anything, minus the whole Aphid aspect of his life.

“Is there a reason you came here?” Marinette asked.

“I wanted to apologize for the last time we met.”

When he’d almost been akumatized and then kissed her with such intensity that he was surprised he could mention it even vaguely with a straight face. Always doing the right thing. Well, except then.

Her face gave away nothing. “I kissed you because I thought you’d prefer that to being akumatized.”

“I did prefer that.” Did that sound too eager? “But I went too far. Hawk Moth knows I have some sort of stronger attachment to you than just some random civilian.”

“Who you would also save.”

“And I think it was made clear that he’s out to target you, considering he crashed the finale of that show you were on.”

“There were pictures of you kissing Lady Noir after the competition finale debacle.” She crossed her arms, eyebrow raised. “Are you two a thing?”

His eyes darted over her as he figured out an acceptable response. “I was doing the whole magical princely kiss to break the spell thing, essentially.”

She snorted. “Yeah, okay.”

What the heck did that mean? It’s not like he’d lie about that. And why should she care? “The point is, you’re most likely in danger and I wanted to figure out a way to protect you.”

“Did you come up with a way?”

His lips thinned.       

“Hawk Moth’s attacks are random. Sometimes he goes days without doing anything, other days it’s five times in a row. Random people, random times, nothing with any rhyme or reason.” Marinette stretched at the barre. “Sorry, Aphid, but you can’t bodyguard me every second of the day.”

Without realizing it, he’d stepped so close that he towered over her. She peeked up at him, for the first time looking a bit wary. It’s not like he grew when he was Aphid, but at the same time he couldn’t help but see her as physically smaller. Maybe it was his Miraculous powers, measuring strength and vulnerability in a way he didn’t as Adrien. But in a single second, Hawk Moth could take her. Could hurt her.

“Hey.” Her voice was soft. “I’m okay.”

Aphid hadn’t realized he was trembling.

Her fingers traced his palm. He flinched away before relaxing, watching as she drew patterns along his fingers, dancing along his wrist, up his forearm.

“Thought I’d be safer with you out of the picture?” she whispered, continuing the motions.

He nodded, eyes shut. “Then you left for New York and I thought you’d be safe, but now you’re back and I…”

I don’t know what to do.

“I trust you to save me, Aphid.” Her fingers linked through his own before bringing them up to her cheek. “It’ll be okay.”

He’d missed her so much. His gaze flickered to her mouth before meeting her eyes again. Her hand pressed into his, his scarlet suit molding to the surface of her cheek, her mouth opening slightly.

Aphid leaned forward slowly, biding his time. Savoring the closeness, the way her eyes batted close, only momentarily.

She didn’t pull away.

It was a stupid decision. A rash instinct he should have ignored. His lips met hers, the briefest contact.

Aphid leaned back enough to see her reaction. She was staring, her expression neutral, almost wary. He locked his jaw, wanting to hit himself for losing his self-control.

“I’ll be there if you need me, Marinette,” he promised, using his authoritative superhero voice, before jumping out the window and rushing away, his body flushed.

He dropped his transformation on a nearby roof and began pacing.

“Adrien?” Tikki called.

He cringed. “Yeah?”

“When I said you should tell Marinette how you feel, I didn’t mean you should go and kiss her as Aphid.”

“Yeah. I figured that.”

She sighed. “You are making your love life into a mess.”

“So much for those miraculous ladybugs, huh?” he muttered. “I guess they can’t fix everything.”

He plopped himself down on the roof and tried his hardest to figure out a plan to stop being an idiot. He could only date one girl and he could only date that girl as one guy. “I guess it doesn’t matter. She’s not interested in Aphid anyway. And I don’t want her to be.”

But it was getting hard not to wish for her to be interested in any semblance of him, even the dangerous, masked ones.

Tikki patted his cheek. “It will work out in the end.”

“I sure hope so.”       

Chapter Text

“Why did he kiss me?”

“Because he’s an unbearable romantic, just like you.”

Marinette’s fingers skimmed over her lips, which they’d done a good two dozen times since last night. “I thought he loved Lady Noir.”

“You two are always changing your minds. It’s a giant game of cat and mouse that no one ever wins.” Plagg whizzed in front of her face. “Where’s that cheese you promised?”

“Always with the cheese tax,” Marinette muttered, throwing a piece into the air. It disappeared instantly. “We’re not playing a game, Plagg. I just think we’re both confused.”

She tossed another piece of cheese, this one he caught and ripped in two, shaking them one at a time, like he was playing with action figures. “You’re both probably obsessing over the same things. Should I date a civilian, or should I date my partner?”

She started changing into her clothes for their first day of shooting. “Why should either of us be in love with two people?”

“How should I know? Maybe it’s a Miraculous holder thing.” He gulped a piece down. “You said so yourself he’s an overthinker, but you’re really one to talk. Pick a guy and stick with them. Preferably the one who will buy you expensive platters of Camembert.”

“You’re right. I’ve decided to tell Adrien how I feel. And even if he doesn’t feel the same way, I think we could still be friends and it not be dramatic.” Though she’d rather him feel the same way to spare her the embarrassment. She swallowed, trying to keep the nerves at bay. “It’ll be fine.”

Plagg hid in her purse, a smaller, girly thing that didn’t feel right at her side, unlike her giant ballet duffel. She took public transport to allow herself the time to think through the right way to tell Adrien exactly how she felt. It was amazing to her, how many ways she could phrase her feelings.

You’re more than my best friend to me. Or I want you to be more than just my dance partner. Or I can’t believe I never saw you for who you truly were. I think now I do…and I want you to know a new part of me.

Her cheeks burned as she thought through her unlimited options, most of them cheesy and unoriginal. Either way, she needed to tell him. They’d agreed to show up at the studio early for their first day of filming. Maybe it wasn’t the most opportune time, but she needed to be truthful with him. He deserved her honesty.

And maybe she’d be incredibly lucky and he’d consider dating her again. For real, this time.

Marinette got to the building, signing in before getting pointed in the right direction. She stood around the corner from the elevators, knowing Adrien would find her there.

She tapped her foot, unable to keep her anxiety at bay. Plagg nuzzled her leg from inside her purse, possibly to comfort her, but most likely to silently tell her to stop so he didn’t throw up his precious cheese.

You can do this, Marinette, she thought to herself. No matter what, Adrien will be gracious. You can trust him to handle your feelings in a chivalrous way.

She’d been desperate for him to kiss her again. Her, as Marinette. To mean it. She leaned up against the wall, eyes closed shut as she remembered the feel of his finger under her chin, the seriousness of his striking eyes, asking if she trusted him. The way his mouth moved on hers.

“Thanks for waiting for me.”

Marinette nearly yelped as she opened her eyes, finding Adrien standing in front of her, looking absolutely stunning, a bit dressier than she was expecting, fortunately oblivious to the thoughts in her head. “It’s not like I wanted to go in there alone.” She took a breath, daring to meet his eyes. “We have to stick together, right?”

“We are partners,” he admonished.

She didn’t let the lack of his normal overflowing warmth keep her from what she needed to say. “Actually, Adrien…there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” She took a deep breath. “I’m in love with you.”

His expression clouded with puzzlement. “I would think so.”

She was thrown off by his answer. She stepped closer, keeping her voice hushed. “No, I mean when we were fake dating, I…my feelings have been real. But I was too scared to tell you.”

His face softened. “I didn’t mean to misunderstand you. You caught me off guard.” Adrien grabbed her wrist. “I want to tell you something, too.”

She stifled her discomfort, not sure why it was there. “Yes?”

“You’re so important to me,” he murmured.

Her knees grew weak. “But do you feel the same way?”

“I want more than what we have.”

“More?”

The edge of his voice was fierce in a way she wasn’t expecting. His eyebrows pulled down, too serious and even challenging. She shrunk under his gaze, her heart splintering as she realized the more they both wanted was completely different.

“Felix?”

Marinette looked up to find something that didn’t make sense—Adrien, standing a few feet away, gaping at them. She scrambled away, looking back and forth between them. “Was someone akumatized?”

The Adrien she had been talking to laughed. “No. You have it all wrong.”

Whoever she’d been talking to wasn’t Adrien. “Who are you?”

“That’s Felix. My cousin,” the Adrien who’d just walked up said.

“There’s no way you’re cousins. You’re identical.”

And she would know. She’d spent hours upon hours with Adrien, up close and personal. She knew his body better than her own, how he moved, all his expressions and quirks. And yes, she’d sensed something was off about this one, but to be so nearly perfect…

She’d just confessed her feelings to Felix. Felix knew how she felt and could tell Adrien at any given time.

Marinette wanted to spirit herself away as fast as her legs could carry her.

“What are you doing here, Felix?” Adrien asked, hands in fists at his side.

“Didn’t you hear?” He ran a hand through his hair, the same way Adrien always did. “I’m on These Dancing Delights too.”

Adrien froze. “No one told me.”

So not only was Felix just around to be her personal hellscape, he was here to stay.

“Why would someone tell you?” Felix asked. “It’s not like we’ve seen each other lately. Clearly you don’t want to be in touch.”

“I wasn’t allowed to go. I’m sorry.”

Felix studied him. “There’s no need to apologize. You’ve always danced when your strings were pulled.”

“I don’t live with him anymore.”

Felix’s gaze flickered to Adrien’s hand. “That won’t always matter, will it?” He walked up to Marinette, smiling. “Nice meeting you, Marinette.”

She stood still, unable to answer. Unsure how she could ever utter a word in Felix’s presence again without mortification running through every speck of her body like a hive of bees.

Felix took his leave, going into the studio.

“What was that about?” she asked, somehow able to find her voice.

“My father didn’t let me go to his father’s funeral,” he whispered. “Otherwise, I would have.”

“Has Felix always been like that?”

“He used to want us to switch places to prank people.” Adrien looked out the window. “He has this way of persuasion. Not that I don’t try to woo people over, but…his way is always unsettling. Which he shouldn’t have done to you.” He turned back to Marinette. “What did he say?”

He pretended to be you and now knows our entire relationship was fake and that I’m in love with you. “I guess he wanted to continue the family tradition, because he pretended that he was you.”

Adrien grimaced. “And he didn’t hurt you in any way?”

She avoided the question. “He does that to hurt people all the time?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head, as if to rid himself of the worst outcomes. “Let’s just try to stay away from him.”

On a show, where they were now part of the main cast with him. Easy peasy.       

“He’s never worn his hair like that before,” Adrien commented. “He’s clearly trying to copycat me.”

“I’m going to have to ask you questions about stuff only you would know, then, to make sure it’s you every time.” She hung her head. “It’s so embarrassing that I couldn’t tell it wasn’t you.”  

His hand came to her chin, tilting it up. “Normally people don’t have a doppelganger to worry about. Besides, out of everyone in my life, you know me the best.”

She’d just been thinking about his fingers on her chin, but now she was embarrassed beyond belief. There was no way she could summon the courage needed to tell him right now. How could she possibly love Adrien that much at all if she hadn’t even known that Felix wasn’t him?

The floodgates opened on her insecurities. Not only that, but Adrien didn’t open up to her like he did with Lady Noir. And it’s not like she could pin the blame on Adrien, either. She was more comfortable around him as Lady Noir, asking him questions she was too scared to ask as Marinette. Showing her actual feelings that she always stuffed down without the mask—a mask that clearly made her unrecognizable as a civilian, even though Adrien spent every freaking day with her. Not that she could really talk, given she doubted she could recognize Aphid if she knew him without the mask. Were they both seriously this blind?

“Are you okay doing the show if your cousin is on it?” she asked, stifling her inner panic.

“It’s going to be more challenging, but I think we can deal with it.” He hesitated. “Maybe it’ll be good for us to patch up things?”

Marinette frowned. So far, she considered Felix to be a snake, but she’d been wrong about first impressions before and she didn’t want to jump the gun. Then again, what kind of person pretended to be someone else and made sexual innuendos to someone they just met?

“Just to make sure you know it’s me,” Adrien leaned down, whispering in her ear, “One time I stole your slippers and you climbed me like Mount Everest to get them back.”

She shivered from his lips brushing the delicate helix of her ear. “Did you really have to phrase it like that?”

“What can I say? You’re very passionate about your footwear.” He smiled, holding out a hand. “Ready to shine, Slippers?”

“Stick by me today,” she whispered. “I want us to really give off the impression that we’re a perfect team.”

He gave a soft snort, intertwining his hand with hers. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

She gave his hand a squeeze. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

From what Marinette had heard, this show was going for a more authentic vibe. Yes, it was reality television, but it had a much more social aspect. They didn’t want to direct the contestants to say certain things, or force them to look a certain way, or cast anyone in a romantic or villainous light unless they chose to take it. Even today’s first get together was supposed to be spontaneous, with people filtering in as they pleased.

It’d sounded fantastic, but her run-in with Felix felt like a bad omen.

They entered the studio. There were a lot of cameras set up, with different teams flitting around in the backgrounds along the mirrored wall. In the middle stood the rest of the contestants.

The first person she spotted was one of her least favorite people on the planet.

“Oh my gosh, Marinette!” Lila rushed forward, giving her a hug. “It’s so good to see you!”

She stiffened, but exchanged the hug because they were being filmed. “Hi, Lila.”

“It’s awesome that we’ll get to dance together again,” Lila gushed. “You’re so strong to be able to bounce back after such a huge loss.”

Her pasted-on smile desperately wanted to break into a snarl. “It really wasn’t that big of a deal.”

Now that the dust had settled, it didn’t really bother Marinette that they’d lost. The biggest disappointment was that she knew their last routine could have been a lot better. She got to dance with Adrien again, so the only thing bugging her was how smug winning had clearly made Lila.

“I heard you got accepted into Juilliard. Did that not work out?” Of course her nose had to worm its way into everything. Lila kept going before Marinette could reply, “They have really high standards, so it’s no wonder it didn’t work out. I went there a few years ago as one of the youngest students ever accepted.” She clapped her hands together. “But at least you’re here now!”

“I thought you’d be dancing in some fancy show,” Adrien interrupted, as if sensing Marinette was close to losing it.

Lila waved a hand airily. “The past few months have been a bit of a whirlwind. I was able to model for your father, Adrien. He’s such a doll.” Could Marinette trip her later? “And I did a lot of promotional pieces and performed a few shows across the world at different famous theaters, but I was still left craving that adrenaline from performing on a stage in front of judges. So when they asked if I could be a part of These Dancing Delights, I jumped at the chance!”

“Good for you, Lila,” Adrien replied. “Sounds like a thrilling time.”

“It was. XY is still my partner, of course.” She looked over at him, but he was too busy making hot guy faces at himself in the mirror to notice her. “Are you two still dating?”    

It’s not like they hadn’t discussed their angle on if they were still dating or not prior to her plan to confess to him today, but being around Lila made Marinette into a tornado of emotions. Besides, she wanted to claim Adrien as her own so Lila wouldn’t swoop in and try to steal him.

Fortunately, Adrien answered before she could, “We’re just friends now, actually. A mutual breakup.”

Marinette couldn’t for the life of her school her expression into “mutual breakup” territory when her eyes wanted nothing more than to fire laser beams.

“Oh my gosh, that’s so sad!” She made a pouty face. “You two were the most talked about couple in all of Paris.”

“We’re not on bad terms,” Marinette reminded her, trying desperately not to reach out for Adrien’s hand or do anything that a jealous territorial girl would do.

“Of course you’re not. You two are so professional. That must be why you were invited to the show even though your relationship failed!” 

Could she punch her? She really wanted to punch her.

Adrien grabbed Marinette’s hand, turning her to him. Her brain shifted away from Mortal Combat and to the green of his eyes.

“I love Marinette,” he said. “She’s my best friend and I can’t live my life without her.”

Her lips pressed together, eyes starting to fill with tears. She wrapped her arms around him, so grateful that she was back in Paris with the boy who had stolen her heart, even if all they had to be was friends. “I love you, too.”

She melted into his arms, forgetting Lila, the studio, everything. The day wasn’t going how she wanted to at all, but she still had Adrien and that’s what mattered.

When they pulled apart, Lila was gone.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“We both needed it,” he whispered back.

“I didn’t know she’d be here.”

“Me either,” he murmured.

“This keeps getting worse.”

But they were being filmed, so they kept their smiles on. He grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. One interaction down, so many more to go.

/ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Adrien was still reliving the high of telling a room full of people he loved Marinette when she said, “Luka?”

Her hand slipped out of Adrien’s as she ran up to someone he took a bit too long to place—Luka Couffaine. She basically tackled him in a hug.

Adrien’s hand stung from its nakedness. He pressed it into his leg, hoping no one noticed his shock as he watched Marinette’s sourness turn to daylight in Luka’s presence.

How the heck did she know someone as famous as Luka?

“I had no idea you were on the show!”

“Yeah, my schedule aligned to do it and it sounded like a lot of fun.” He smiled. “Touring can be pretty exhausting, so it’ll be nice to settle down again.”

The way they were beaming at each other made him feel like he’d stumbled in on a couple making out. Despite wanting to shy away, Adrien stepped over, trying to be part of whatever it was that was happening between them. “You two know each other?”

“Luka and I used to dance together,” Marinette explained, not taking her eyes off him. “Then he made it big. Not only can he dance like a god, but he can sing and play half a dozen instruments too. All at the same time.”

A god? Marinette wasn’t one to compliment, but she’d vomit her praise out uncontrollably for this guy?

At least Luka broke her intense eye contact. “It’s nice to see you again, Adrien.”

Adrien shook his hand, letting go quickly. “Likewise.”

“You two have met?”

“I end up meeting most everyone who makes it to celebrity status,” Adrien replied, trying not to grimace. It hadn’t been a long meeting, but he’d remembered liking Luka a lot. Despite Luka’s crazy popularity (especially with the girls) he’d come across as laidback and humble.

Not that he could recollect the positives for the life of him when all he wanted was for Luka to tour internationally, forever, starting now.

Marinette snorted. “Sorry, Luka, but I still can’t picture you being famous. It’s not like you to want attention. Remember that time where you got the starring role and you begged to get one of the backup dancer parts instead?”

“Yeah, I kept asking to be a mouse.”

“Please, I’ll even squeak if I need to,” Marinette quoted, causing both her and Luka to laugh. She nudged his shoulder with her own. “As if you couldn’t pull off the prince role.”

“You were a great Clara.”

He hadn’t realized seeing Marinette with another guy, even if they were supposedly just friends, would make him feel like his soul was being wrung out of his body. He’d always heard that Marinette was a lone wolf. Yes, she got along with basically everyone in school and everyone adored her, but romantically, she hadn’t ever had a boyfriend and she’d never mentioned any crushes. It was always all about dance for her.

So it did make sense that, if she were to have a crush, it’d be on someone who had danced with her and was a famous professional dancer.

Just his luck.

During his stewing, Luka and Marinette had continued going over their top ten dances with a variety of inside jokes in a language he practically didn’t understand, making his stomach sink even lower.

“Sounds like fun,” Adrien said, cutting off their latest story. “So, Luka, tell us about your latest tour.”

Anything to keep them from going on about how great their dance chemistry was. Was he being an incredibly jealous, immature jerk? Yes. But he couldn’t help it. If he was actually dating Marinette, if she’d said whatever she’d had with Luka was in the past, he’d trust her on it. But right now, he wasn’t dating her and, despite not wanting to, saw Luka as a rival.

A really cool, collected, down to earth professional dancer who seemed exactly Marinette’s type. He cringed as he caught her lit up expression again. Luka made her happy in a way he didn’t think he could ever pull off.

Get over it, Adrien thought to himself. She doesn’t belong to you. At any time, you can confess to her. The only reason Luka would be a problem is if she accepted your feelings. For now, she can call anyone she wants a god.

But he really, really didn’t like it.

Chapter Text

The niceties continued, causing Adrien’s heart to become a twisted, aching knot. His head was starting to pound from the stress of learning over and over how amazing Luka was as they reminisced over the good old days when they’d been together, dancing.    

It was to the point where he’d rather be talking to Felix. He’d probably even choose Lila over this, but that would hurt Marinette too much to be an option. Not that he was going to leave her by herself, even though she’d clearly forgotten he existed in Luka’s presence.

The doors opened. Adrien looked up interestedly, watching the newest member of the show walk in. He liked her style. While most of the other girls were dressed up, she’d kept her clothes casual, tugging at her beanie as if to shield herself a little from the closest camera.

She waved, coming over. “Hey, Luka.”

“This is Zoe.” Luka wrapped an arm around her. “She’s my partner for the show.”

“Aren’t you Chloe’s sister?” Adrien blurted out before thinking, already in defense mode.

Marinette stiffened next to him.

“Please don’t hold it against me,” Zoe said apologetically, sinking a little deeper into Luka’s arm. “We’re only half-sisters and I didn’t grow up with her.”

“Zoe is outstandingly kind,” Luka defended. “Don’t worry, we’re all going to be good friends.”        

Marinette took a deep breath. “Well then, it’s nice to meet you, Zoe.”

If only she’d believed me right off the bat, Adrien grumbled to himself as they went through introductions. Thank God for Luka and his total trustworthiness.

He wanted to ask if Zoe and Luka were dating, but it felt too personal of a question. He’d feel way better if that were the case.

“Is that your twin?” Zoe asked, gesturing to Felix across the room.

“Cousin,” Adrien replied. “He might try to pretend to be me though, so you might want to be careful about that.”

“Are you kidding?”

“I wish.”

He left it at that, not wanting to badmouth Felix in front of the cameras. Not that he had time to, as Felix decided that then was the time to stroll over, somehow completely in step with her partner despite it being a walk.

“Felix Fathom,” he said with a flourish before extending the hand to gesture to the girl next to him. “This is Kagami, my partner.”

Adrien wasn’t sure what to make of the almost possessive way he said partner, but he was too busy assessing Kagami to care.

She stood with immaculate posture, her face guarded. Her eyes critically swept over everything they touched, leaving no stones unturned, before coming to a quick judgment. Her mouth thinned, as if annoyed that no one in the group had just met her very high standards.

Especially him, which her eyes had landed on last.

You’d make the perfect pair, his father’s voice echoed in his ears.

Adrien gritted his teeth.

“I didn’t realize you had so much dance experience,” Adrien said.

“It’s something I picked up in my spare time,” Felix answered, as if the whole thing bored him. “Kagami is exceptional herself. Not that it takes her any effort to shine.”

“I look forward to competing with all of you,” Kagami said. “You’ve all been chosen for your talent. It’s been a while since I’ve been challenged.”

Yet again, her eyes landed on Adrien, as if she wondered why they bothered to let him in the door. He was already so done with this show.

“It’s going to be an amazing time,” Luka agreed, with Marinette and Zoe nodding along and beaming.

“I’m so excited to see where this journey takes us,” Lila gushed as she came over to join the circle, practically dragging XY behind her. She put a hand over her heart. “I feel so close to you all already. No matter what happens, we need to stay friends!”

“Are we going to be practicing together all the time?” Zoe asked. “That would probably help with the whole friendship thing.”

A representative of the show came on camera. “This show is designed that you all, as contestants, will get to know each other better. Outings, social events, and even dance challenges will happen outside of the two spotlight episodes where you take the stage in front of a panel of judges.

“Unlike other shows, no one will be eliminated. We want the audience to get to know each and every one of you throughout the season, to watch you progress not only in your skills, but in your relationships.”

Adrien was ready to never see half the group of people ever again, so he wasn’t sure how the whole relationship thing was going to go.

“How does one win?” Kagami asked.

“With the most points, of course! But, keep in mind, points aren’t only earned when you dance with your partner, but with other members of the cast. Our judging rounds will help boost your scores if you’re compatible with your partner, but all the other activities involve audience scores.”

Which meant it involved working well with everyone. The power of friendship and all that. The idea had sounded awesome on paper, but now?

The hostess went through a series of explanations and answering more questions. From the sound of it, the producers were aiming to get the drama of a dating show while still being a dance competition. Despite his sinking hopes, maybe it really could pull off something a bit more authentic. It’s not like they were directing their relationships or anything.

Yet.

"Now that we’re all on the same page, you’ll get your first chance to earn points!” the hostess exclaimed. “I know you weren't expecting to dance today, but we wanted to see what kind of dances you would cook up without any prep time. Best of all, you're going to get to dance with every single partner here!"

He glanced at Marinette, but she was too busy grinning at Luka and he was grinning back, as if they'd both just won the lottery.

"Each of you will have about a minute with each partner, then you'll switch off. You'll end with your assigned dance partner for the show. It'll give you a chance to meet the competition."

Lila squealed. "This is such a great idea!"

It sounded like a simple enough thing, but Adrien had never danced with anyone outside of Marinette. The only girl in the room other than Marinette that he wasn't intimidated to dance with was Zoe, who looked like she was in the same boat as him. He tried not to have as strong of a revulsion to Lila as Marinette had, but he would be happy to never talk to her again. And then there was Kagami...

They formed a circle, the men on the inside, women on the outside. The hostess explained that the men that they'd be the ones rotating. Lila shoved Zoe out of the way to stand opposite of Adrien, beaming. He tried to keep his face impassive, but he was busy watching Luka and Marinette tease one another.

His shoulders tensed. The music started.

He tried to shed his discomfort, but Lila reminded him of Chloe. She made the dance as sexual as possible, running her hands up and down his body. Adrien did everything he could to nonchalantly change the tone, to make it into a story about rejection, but she just kept coming.

It was a struggle to pay attention to Lila’s greedy hands, his own feet, and Marinette and XY at the same time. From what he could tell from his quick peeks, XY was attempting to lead her in a very flourished tango. She kept up, but not without small pauses that he doubted the general public wouldn't have noticed. Not because Marinette wasn't a good dancer, but because he didn't seem capable of reading her own body language and adjusting to her own style.

Lila came to a sudden stop, causing him to fumble.

"I'm so sorry, Adrien. You must be out of practice since you didn't dance all summer. If you want, I can give you some extra lessons. That way, we can earn both of us some extra points."

"I'll have to make sure I'm not swamped already, but thanks for offering," he said politely. He didn't trust her not to sabotage them.

“You’re fun to dance with,” Lila breathed. “As much as I love XY, I always wonder what it could have been like if we’d had been partners from the beginning.”

He thanked God he’d chosen Marinette that day and not anyone else.

Adrien was saved from a reply as the music changed.

The hostess called for them to rotate. Adrien moved to take Kagami's hand and waist. He met her eyes, trying to ignore the instinct to look away. "Hi."

"Do you normally talk to your partner during a performance?" Kagami asked.

He blinked. "Uh, no? But we just met, so..."

"The greatest form of etiquette is staying on point." She said the last word as if hoping he'd understand the double meaning, how important this was to her. "Focus."

Adrien spent the rest of the dance trying his hardest to have the best technique he'd ever had in his life, but her intensity left him robotic. It didn't help that he was distracted by Marinette giggling as Luka whipped her into the air with ease, doing a series of incredibly difficult moves as if they'd been training their whole lives together.

Which, apparently, they had.

"Focus," Kagami ordered in his ear.

But it was time to switch again. He assumed positions with Zoe, the two of them sharing an awkward smile. At least it was easier with her. She whispered to him what sort of dance she wanted to go for, helping ease into it without having to guess at what she was going to do. 

"Grow up dancing?" he asked, hoping not to get scolded again.

"I prefer hip hop to the traditional stuff my mom forced on me, but here I am anyway." She shimmied, causing him to grin and match her energy. Finally, someone he could actually dance with without much effort. 

As they revolved, he spotted Marinette dancing with Felix. It annoyed him to no end that Felix was dancing with her like they'd been made to be a matching set. Sure, Marinette was amazing, but it was weird to see her practically chummy with him when it didn't seem like she even liked him.

But he knew, from experience, that she liked a challenge.

Adrien finished his dance with Zoe, his arms wrapping around Marinette, his salvation.

"Hey," she whispered.

He melted. "Hey."

She immediately sent them whirling around the room. He matched her beat for beat, able to guess what she was going to do before she did it. Despite the amount of thinking he had to do to keep up, it was effortless compared to dancing with the others. It reminded him of being Aphid. When he was with her, he got magical muscle memory. He could do anything, be anything, and actually believed in himself.

He was pretty sure she believed in him, too, and it showed.

By the time the song had come to an end, he realized everyone had stopped dancing just to watch them. His cheeks flushed as he straightened.

The hostess swooped in to save him from further embarrassment. “Let’s see what our judge has tallied your scores to.”

He hadn’t noticed one of the judges along the wall, watching them, scribbling down notes.

The points were announced. Marinette had earned them more, while Adrien had only earned some for his dance with Marinette. So far, Marinette and Luka were the highest earners, followed by Felix and Zoe. Couple wise, Luka and Zoe were in the lead. Maybe Marinette would change her mind about caring if they won or not now that the competition had started.

“As for our filming schedule, get a copy on the way out after you finish your interviews,” the hostess said. “I wouldn’t want anyone to be late to the second day of France’s most popular hit reality show of all time!”

Before he could say a word, Marinette was already flitting back over to Luka’s side, practically bouncing up and down. Adrien did himself the courtesy of pretending to check his phone, as if it didn’t bother him at all that his partner was so comfortable with the competition.

“It’ll be nice to see you tomorrow, Adrien,” Lila said.

He jumped. He hadn’t heard her creep up on him, like the snake she was. “I’m sure it will.”

It was a pretty pretentious thing to say, but he wasn’t going to exchange pleasantries with her.

Adrien and Marinette went through a few rounds of interviews, which were quicker than he was used to. Lila watched him every single time he looked away from the camera.

“Ready to go?” Marinette asked as soon as they were done, grabbing Adrien by the hand and leading him to the door, past Lila, before he could answer. Which was fine by him, because his brain could only focus on her nimble, yet strong, fingers in his.

They walked down the street together. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, the stress starting to ease.

"That was so much fun!" Marinette revolved in a graceful turn, like she was part of a musical. "I can't believe Luka is in the show!"

"I'm glad you get to see your friend," Adrien forced out. 

"He's seriously the best dance partner I've ever had." She seemed to realize the knife to the gut her words were, because she immediately added, "Before I met you."

He kept walking, his jaw locked. Maybe he was being too sensitive about it. It's not like they were dating. She was allowed to praise Luka like the so-called god he was.

She grabbed his hand, pulling him to a stop. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I'm so glad we're partners, Adrien."

"It's fine. I get that he's better than me." He shrugged, placing his hands in his pockets, away from her touch. "You two have chemistry."

This time she looked offended. "And we don't?"

He really should have told her how he felt the night before. He wasn't about to confess when they were in the middle of an argument. 

"Look, I know I'm not the best dancer. And I'm the one who brought you back from New York for this." His fingers grazed hers. "I'm so, so glad you're here. You're my best friend and I want us to be able to have fun together."

Her pinky reached out to his. Her eyes didn't leave their hands. "I really wouldn't want anyone else as my partner still."

His breathing smoothed out. "You're not just trying to be nice?"

"I'm not good at being nice for the sake of not hurting feelings."

His fingers traced hers once more. "I trust you."

"Are you going to be okay with this show? You looked pretty tense."

"I'm just not used to being around people." Especially when some of them were out to get them or ended up being potential rivals. "Or dancing with anyone else."

"I saw Lila put her grimy paws all over you," she mumbled.

She sounded jealous. Or maybe just protective, given his history. "Yeah, I'm not looking forward to that."

"We seriously don't have to do the competition if she's too much for you."

"It'll be okay. It's not like she's going to harass me on camera."

"She already was. We know exactly why they want Lila on this show and it’s not because of her talent."

"I'll try to stay clear of her as much as I can. I don't need another Chloe situation." His thoughts turned to Kagami. He shoved them down.

Marinette rocked back and forth. "Anyway...do you want to hang out, since practice doesn't officially start until tomorrow?"

"Not going to make me dance until my feet bleed today?"

"It's super tempting." She grinned. "But really, is there something you want to do?"

She leaned forward. He couldn't help but be reminded of Lady Noir, with the teasing lilt of her words, the way she cocked her head to the side, the speck of mischief in her smile. 

After today, he wasn't in the mood. "I'm pretty tired and I'm sure you need to get some rest, considering jetlag." He gave her a smile, hoping that would make up for saying no. "But I'll see you tomorrow, before everyone else gets there. Maybe we can hang out afterwards?"

"Yeah, totally." Her face pinched, but she smiled. "I'll see you then."

He waved, then started walking in the opposite direction, cringing internally at giving up the chance to hang out with her. But the day's losses were too heavy in his mind to really give her the attention she deserved. 

Chapter Text

“Can you believe that, Tikki?” Adrien steamed. “Why is she so mesmerized by him?”

Ever since he’d gone his separate ways from Marinette, he’d stopped hiding his crankiness and couldn’t stop venting about Luka to his angel of a kwami, who hadn’t told him to stop thinking about it (yet).

“You don’t know that she was mesmerized,” Tikki said. “I think she was just happy to see an old friend.”

“You heard how she was going on and on about him. And sure, she hasn’t seen him in forever, but still.” Adrien face planted on his bed. “I don’t get to have that with anyone.”

Tikki landed in his hair. “Just yesterday you were laughing with Marinette over inside jokes you’d come up with.”

“Fine. But it’s annoying that she has that with other people.” He rolled over, grabbing Tikki and gently placing her on his chest. “And I know she has her own life. I want her to hang out with who she wants to and if that means falling in love with someone else…” He shook his head. “Even if I hate it, I want that for her.”

“Good.”

“I just didn’t realize this show was going to present an actual competition.”

“Yeah. Who would have thought a dance competition would do that?” Tikki said dryly.

“You know what I mean.” Luka flashed in his mind. “I want her to be that excited to see me.”

“She was that excited to see you when she came back from New York.”

“Was she, though? It’s not like she ran up to me, screaming, like she did with Luka.”

“You two have a very different relationship. Besides, you were really nervous, remember? You were trying to tamper your feelings so you wouldn’t be too much. And even still, you both ended up dancing all night long.”     

“Yeah…I guess that’s true.”

Tikki patted his chest. “At least your best friend is back, right?”

He stared up at the ceiling, his lips upturning at the thought of her. “I can’t wait to see her again. Though I wish it was without any other people around.”

“Maybe this will help you make new friends.”

“You mean like Lila?”

“I meant like Luka and Zoe. They both seem really nice.”

“The bane of my existence,” Adrien moaned.

She patted his cheek. “Baby steps.”

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll try my best to be civil and actually enjoy myself. I guess it does make me look like a nut job of a person if I only have the one friend and can’t open up to anyone else.” He paused. “At least human wise. I hope you know you’re my dearest friend, Tikki.”

“And I’m not jealous of Marinette either,” she teased.

Adrien chuckled and poked her cheek. “You’re lucky you get to avoid love triangles.”

He smiled at Tikki’s bright, pure eyes for a while before relenting. “All right, we have an early morning tomorrow. Maybe I can get some alone time with Marinette before the hectic day.” He kissed her head. “Thanks for listening to me.”

She cuddled against his cheek. “I’ll always be there for you, Adrien.”

His heart lightened considerably. What would he do without Tikki?

/ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Marinette stared at herself in the studio’s mirror. She’d gotten there early to warm up, trying to get rid of first day jitters. She hadn’t been nervous yesterday, but knowing who she had to share an entire season with, she may as well have been a cat threatened with waterboarding every day.

“I was hoping Luka would show up early,” Marinette murmured.

Plagg poked his head out of her bag, yawning. “No one in their right mind is up this early, Marinette. Haven’t you heard that cats nap? Because if not, I think I might need a new holder.”

She knelt by her bag. “Do you think this show is a good idea? Adrien had wanted to do it, but now he seems so…off.”

“He’s probably not thrilled about how you reacted to Luka.”

“What do you mean?”

Plagg sighed, then picked up his cheese, eyes lighting. “Oh my gosh, it’s my favorite cheese!” He kissed it. “I’ve missed you so much. Did you know it’s the runniest of all?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“That’s exactly how you sounded about Luka yesterday.”  

Her nose shriveled. “That’s not at all what I sounded like.”

“Sure.” Plagg sniffed. “Either way, the kid isn’t used to competing for your time.”

“It’s not a competition.”

“Of course it’s not,” Plagg said, clearly lacking any conviction.

Before she could ask what he meant, the doors opened. Adrien stepped in, already dressed in his typical workout gear, which left little to the imagination when it came to his physique.

She hoped he didn’t notice her blush as she stood up.

“Morning,” he greeted, a dopey smile on his face.

She tried not to let the tingles of electricity cause a power outage in her body. “Good morning.”

“Hey, Slippers.” He leaned down, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “I have a surprise for you.”

The word barely made it out of her mouth, her brain still super focused on the tickling pleasure of his lips on her ear. “Oh?”

He got on his knees in front of her and looked up, grinning like a devil.

Her stomach swooped. Before she could ask what the heck he was doing (or get weaker at the knees than she already was), he put his right leg out, descending into a split.

Marinette jumped back, almost wanting to scream at him for putting stupid ideas into her head. She kept her voice calm. “You had your right split down last time I saw you, Pigeon.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, proving he could hold it without the use of hands before switching to a middle split, his whole torso pancaked on the floor.

“Couldn’t you do that before, too?” she mused.

“It doesn’t even hurt now,” he bragged. “And look!”

She stepped around as he switched to his left split, which was just as good as his dominant leg. “Okay, fine. That’s impressive.”

He winked. “I kept stretching when you were gone.”

That was sexy. Not the split itself, but how disciplined he’d been to keep up with all his dance skills. She wasn’t sure if he did it for her, but either way, that’s how it felt, and it was incredibly touching to know that he wasn’t giving up all the time and dedication she’d put into making him a dancer.

She knelt down next to him, pinching his nose. “We might win this time, with your amazing flexibility.”

He grabbed her fingers, squeezing. “I don’t see why not.”

“Point your toes.”

He swore. “Seriously, how do you always know when I’m not without even looking?”

“Maybe I just know you better than you think.”

Their faces were close. She should tell him now. “Adrien—”

The doors opened, revealing a gaggle of cameramen who started setting up, one of which started talking about dispersing the microphones to capture the dancer’s voices.

Marinette pulled away, busying herself with her bag.

After Plagg’s comments about Luka, she couldn’t help but shake the feeling that something was wrong with Adrien. That maybe she really had gone a bit too overboard with her excitement to see Luka and it really could have rubbed Adrien the wrong way. All she knew was she still wanted to kick herself for saying Luka was the best partner she’d ever had. Yes, he was an amazing dancer, but what they’d had was strictly professional. It wasn’t at all like how she felt dancing with Adrien.

She wanted to prove that to him.

The other dancers started trickling in. The normal routine began, with hair and makeup, all the testing, individual and couple interviews while they waited to get started actually shooting. Marinette let it pass in a blur, avoiding the other dancers who weren’t Adrien pretty easily, considering they all were on a set schedule in the mornings that didn’t involve being near each other.

Let’s get to the dancing already, Marinette kept thinking.

After what felt like hours of preparation, the hostess gathered them in the main studio, announcing today’s activity. “Each of you will be partnered with someone who isn’t your partner to choreograph a dance.”

Marinette grabbed Adrien’s hand for moral support.

“You’ll have an hour to choreograph, then each of you will take turns performing. Lila and Luka, Zoe and XY, Marinette and Felix, and Adrien and Kagami.”

She tried her best to keep her annoyance off her face. Out of all the guys here, she’d rather dance with anyone else.

“You have free reign on the music choice, so long as it meets These Dancing Delights guidelines. Your time will start as soon as you enter your individual studio. Best of luck!”

She turned to Adrien. “You’ll be fine. You’re great at listening. If she lets you, try to give suggestions like you always gave me. You know, about putting my emotions into dance? That was really good advice and you helped me with that.”

He blinked, as if not expecting her to compliment him. “Thanks?” He hesitated. “Just…be careful.”

“Don’t worry, I will,” she assured him. At least they’d have cameras on them, so Felix couldn’t exactly try anything.

“Good luck.”

“Hurry up, Adrien,” Kagami called from the other side of the room, obviously eager to get started.

Marinette took a deep breath. They could do this, even if they had to do it apart from one another.

/ᐠ. ﮧ .ᐟ\

Marinette dragged her feet into the studio she would be spending a whole hour with Felix in. Talk about bad luck.

He was already there, with his perfect posture, his perfect body, and his perfect face. His tone was polite as he said, “Shall we get started?”

“We only have an hour.”

He didn’t take the bait of her clear dread. “I’ve analyzed your dancing. You tend to choreograph routines based around the story of the song, prioritizing feeling over expertise.”

“And I’ve seen yours,” she countered. “You focus on coming across as striking as possible.”

She decided then that, in her head, his nickname would be Peacock. Pruning his feathers, completely aware that he was the prettiest bird of all. Besides, if Adrien’s nickname was Pigeon, she might as well stick with the bird theme.

Despite the name, her insult was the most negative she could say, Your performances are always showstopping and epic.

He seemed to know it. “It appears we make quite an appealing combination.”

Ew. “Let’s just pick a song and see what we can come up with.”

Despite feeling like a mouse under a cat’s hungry stare, it wasn’t difficult work. Felix was a professional and clearly knew how to work with others and compromise. She kept things civil, going along with his ideas as often as he went along with hers. Despite his politeness, she still didn’t trust him. Everyone acted angelic on camera.

It was just too weird that he looked like Adrien. She would forget every once and a while, feeling herself wanting to pull closer in their embrace, and have to reign in her emotions. This wasn’t Adrien and he didn’t possess even a sliver of her heart.

They finished with half an hour to spare. It annoyed her that they could work so efficiently together. Marinette let out a breath, grateful that they’d most likely earn pretty ample points for their performance. Not that she cared about winning, but it she still prided herself on coming up with entertaining dances.

“What, pray tell, do you see in my cousin?” Felix asked.

She blinked, looking around the room to find that they were alone. The cameras must have packed up while she was deep in thought.

Dance had made her completely forget that Felix knew one of her deepest secrets. She crossed her arms. “That’s really none of your business.”

“And to think, I wanted to give you my blessing.”

She hated the way his voice dripped with an acidic sarcasm. “I don’t think Adrien cares what you think about anything he does with his life.”

“Adrien isn’t really the most decisive person,” Felix said. “He hasn’t had the opportunity to be.”

Marinette watched him from the corner of her eye. “I don’t think you care about him.”

“Of course I care. He’s my only cousin.” He put a hand to his chest. “He and I are blood. Deeper than blood, really. He’s been through so much, losing his mother. The pressures his father puts on him. Having to live under his roof, never able to make his own decisions.”

“He moved out.” Because he was an adult who could make a life for himself without needing Felix’s pity.

“Did he?” Felix mused. “Has he had any contact with his father? Adrien has always been too…kindhearted for his own good.”

She didn’t like the way he said kindhearted like it was a weakness. “Why don’t you ask him that.”

“He’s rather tightlipped with me.”

“I can’t imagine why.” She sighed. “Look, you’re not going to get any more information about him from me. You can try to patch things up with him if you want, but Adrien knows when someone is being genuine or not, so if you don’t mean it, don’t bother trying.”

“I only have his best interests at heart. Why else would I have come to Paris?”

To make money on an internationally popular television show. She snorted, heading towards the door. “Just leave the guy alone. He has enough to deal with without you.”

“I really am trying to help, Marinette,” he said as she closed the door.

Sure he was.

Marinette walked down the hall, heading towards the bathroom. The way the building was set up, the studios had been on different floors, leaving all the staff pretty spread out. Considering the practice hour wasn’t exactly close to ending, most everyone was probably still in their own separate studios.

“Hey.”

Down the hallway stood her actual partner, his eyes way more sympathetic than Felix’s.

“Adrien.” The weight fell off her shoulders. She ran up to him, throwing her arms around his neck. “Your cousin is weird.”

“Tell me about it.” He pulled back, but kept an arm slung around her shoulders as they walked. “Mine didn’t go the best.”

“Well, it’s okay. It’s not like we care about the points anyway.”

“I’m here for you,” he promised as they continued to walk.

She looked up at his face. His smile was a bit off, but it was probably from whatever had happened with Kagami. “You finished early. Was it really that bad?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Marinette fell into silence and started paying attention to where they were going. “Adrien…this isn’t the way back to the main studio.”

“I needed some time alone with you. Especially after that.”

“You can seriously talk about it if you want.” She missed hearing him voice his concerns. He did so much for her and it felt like she could never give enough back.

“I actually wanted to talk about you,” he murmured.

She stopped in her tracks. Adrien was looking down at her in a smoldering sort of way that made her heart pitter patter in her chest.

He fixed a stray hair peeping out of her bun. “It turns out, you’re vital to the plan.”

“The plan?” she repeated. Her fingers unconsciously formed a fist, feeling her ring.

“You know how Aphid kissed you that one time?”

“I kissed him,” she corrected, noticing that they were down a deserted hallway, the lights half off.

“Hawk Moth knows,” Adrien said softly. “Don’t you think he’ll use that information to his benefit?”

“He could, but we can’t know that.”

“I think we can,” Adrien said.

Everything went dark.

Chapter Text

Adrien forced himself to listen to whatever Kagami wanted to do for the dance, not giving his own input. Her directness reminded him of a bulldozer. A very agile, small bulldozer, but a bulldozer nonetheless.

“This move requires flexibility. Are you capable?” Kagami asked.

He hated the doubt in her tone. “I’m more than capable.”

Her scrunched lips were answer enough. They were half an hour into their choreography and hadn’t gotten nearly as far as they needed to. “Look, I think it’d be really cool if we weren’t just aiming for clean and difficult moves. It should be about what matches the music and what matches us.”

“Precise technique and execution of difficult moves is what scores highest.”

“Not necessarily,” he argued. “I think they really want to see us vibe with each other. You know, have fun?”

“Dance is at its most fun when it is exceptional.”

“And what makes it exceptional is fun,” he countered. “I was thinking we could do a dip at that beat drop, then a lift—”

“No. We’ve already choreographed that part of the song.”

And it was super boring stuff that didn’t match the rhythm and tone of the lyrics. He wondered if most dancers were good at choreography, or if it was just something Marinette excelled in.

“Fine,” he relented. “We’ll do it your way.”

The camera crew seemed just as bored with the practice, or decided that Adrien wasn’t going to argue with her anymore, because they started packing up and left.

Which was actually kind of nice to have time with Kagami without a camera in his face.

He went through the steps as they practiced. “Why are you dancing with Felix anyway?” Adrien paused. “Or are you two together together?”

“He’s a partner worthy of my skill.”

He noted her avoidance of his other question. “And he hasn’t given you any red flags?”

“I’m perfectly adept at making my own judgment calls about people.” Her eyes narrowed on him like he was a bug flying around her face. “At least he’s talented.”

“Forgive me for not growing up a dancer. It’s not like you’re trying to let me show off any of my actual skills.”

“You mean having a pretty face?”

He snorted. “Says the girl who is obviously holding a grudge for what happened last year.”

Kagami shoved away from him.

“Guess you got a consolation prize,” Adrien muttered, too annoyed with her to hold it back.

“You think I’m only with Felix because you were unavailable? As if you and him are merely prize studs meant for a singular purpose?”

“Wasn’t that basically the conversation our parents had?” He pointed to the studio door. “And now you’re dating the only other person in my family who clearly has the same ‘breeding.’”

“I don’t know why you’re assuming I had any more say in the matter than you did.” Her eyes narrowed. “At least I didn’t do the dishonor of choosing a girl with half a brain and even less of a heart.”

He grimaced. “I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings by not choosing you, Kagami. If anything, I was trying to save you from being forced to be with someone you didn’t care about.”

“We didn’t know each other. How was I supposed to come to the conclusion that we wouldn’t have been compatible without ever trying?”

“Why would you even want to entertain our parents’ decision to match us up in the first place? I chose Chloe knowing I wouldn’t love her. All I wanted was to be able to go to school. I thought that by not choosing you, you’d be let off the hook to be with whoever you wanted. And now you’re with Felix.”

“Don’t say his name as if he’s demented.”

“You don’t know him.”

“No, you don’t know him.” She stepped away. “Quite frankly, you know very little.”

What the heck was that supposed to mean?

A crew member poked their head through the door. “Your time is up.”

“We’ll be right there,” Kagami stated, giving Adrien one more glowering look before heading to the door.

Great. So much for trying. Adrien walked back out, staying as clear as he could of Kagami.

He barely cleared the threshold before his arm was grabbed and he was slammed into the wall.

Adrien suppressed the urge not to transform and snapped, “What the hell?”

It took him a moment to recognize Felix. "Marinette was taken."

His brain couldn't process the words. "By who?"

"Someone who looks exactly like us."

It was already crazy enough that Felix looked exactly like him. Now there was some other guy? "You're pulling my leg."

"I thought you'd say that." 

Felix pulled out his phone, playing a video. It was too shaky to see anything, given Felix was filming from behind a corner to stay hidden. There definitely was a guy who had a vague appearance of them, at least from far away. A few seconds in, Marinette collapsed. He caught her before she could fall and exited down the back staircase.

He swore internally. For once, Felix wasn't lying. “Did you hear anything they were saying?”

“Something about her kissing Aphid and revenge.”

This was exactly what he was worried would happen. “You need to call the police and report a hostage situation. Alert them about this guy who supposedly looks like us, have them contact Aphid and Lady Noir to get Marinette back.”

“You mean alert them that there is a sentimonster.”

“What?”

Felix sighed in exasperation. “A sentimonster. A being created by the Peacock Miraculous that Aphid reported on months ago.”

“But that thing was a superpowered boar,” Adrien said, remembering the finale of their last dance competition. “This thing looks like a person.”

“He is not a thing, he is an actual person. A magically created one, but a person nonetheless.”

Adrien hadn’t thought that was possible, but Felix’s assumptions and if it was possible were the least of his concerns right now. “Call the police.”

“And what are you going to do?”

“Is there anything else you can remember about their conversation, which direction he took off in?”

“It’s Hawk Moth, cousin. I’m sure he’s going to put on quite a spectacle.”

Just his luck. “I’ll go look for her.”

Adrien transformed as soon as he was alone, trying to ignore the growing unease in his stomach, which was hard to do when he was pretty close to throwing up. The thing he’d dreaded most was happening and he hadn’t been there to stop it.

He stared out at the city, as if Marinette could be found so easily.

Aphid pulled out his yo-yo, finding live new coverage of the developing hostage situation. They showed figures at the top of the Eiffel Tower. His knees nearly gave out as he recognized Marinette, tied to a chair, dangling a thousand feet above the ground, held there by a man who looked exactly like him.

He forced himself to take in as many details from the news footage as he could. The sentimonster was supposedly alone. He didn't know if it had any powers, or if Hawk Moth was hiding in the shadows, waiting to steal his Miraculous. 

No matter what Hawk Moth had in store, he wasn’t going to let him have Marinette.

“But it’s definitely a trap," he said to himself.

For the first time, he realized Lady Noir wasn't by his side. Not only that, but he sensed she wasn't even transformed. 

"Out of all the times you decide to ditch me," he muttered, messaging her details as quickly as he could. 

He was torn between moving as fast as possible and taking the time to come up with a plan that worked. Either way, he didn't have time to wait for Lady Noir and called for his Lucky Charm.

A ring appeared. He caught it, studying the polka dotted metal, trying to figure out a plan.

Despite his doubts, he only added one other Miraculous to his arsenal. The one that he really needed was the Horse Miraculous, but that was with Lady Noir and there was no way of knowing where she was.

He unified the kwamis. Aphid took a deep breath and swung himself to the Eiffel Tower. He didn’t try to be sneaky. As much as he wanted to use the Fox Miraculous to cause an illusion and distract the sentimonster, he didn’t want to chance losing any potential to build trust.

He dropped down about fifty feet away, walking slowly.

Aphid held up his hands, showing no weapons.

“Took you long enough,” the new version of him said.

It left him a bit dazed, seeing yet another person who looked exactly like him. “What’s your name?”

“Don’t have one.” He said it so matter-of-factly that Aphid wondered if it bothered him at all.

“Are you akumatized?” He hoped that was the case. That it was some sort of mimicry super power and not a sentimonster.

“Do I look vomit inducing colorful to you?” The clone snorted. “How about we get to the important matter at hand. You know, your girlfriend’s life.”

Aphid’s attention shifted to Marinette, keeping his face expressionless. She was tied to a chair, conscious, but not moving. Probably because she didn’t want anything she did or said to cause her to fall to her death.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he said carefully. “I don’t think it’s a secret that I care about every citizen in Paris.”

“Especially the girl who created Aphid Day and dresses up as you during her dance performances. That you went to visit in the middle of the night. That you’ve had heated moments with.” He put a hand over his mouth, pretending to be shocked by the information. “A little moth filled me in. Talk about a super scandal.”

Aphid changed tactics. “If you help me, I’ll help you find the object your amok is in,” he promised, holding out the ring, as if maybe it would mean something to this other him.

“A sentimonster has no freewill unless they’re in possession of the object containing their amok.” The sentimonster tilted his chin up. “And even if I was in possession of it, the wielder of the Peacock Miraculous could snap their fingers and I’d cease to exist. Which makes it very clear which side I’m on, doesn’t it?” He gripped the back of the chair again. “Give me your Miraculous or she dies.”

His earrings had never felt heavier. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Shame.” The sentimonster shoved the chair off the ledge.

Aphid flung his ball, the power of the Dog Miraculous taking effect as it hit her, bouncing back into his hand. “Fetch!”

It was a crude attempt at teleportation, but it worked. Marinette blinked out of existence, appearing right in front of him. Fortunately, since his ball had only touched her, the rope and chair were gone.

He was about to pick her up when a sword slashed in between them. Aphid wrapped his yo-yo string around the steel, pulling up and yanking it out of their new combatant’s hand, using it to block the sentimonster from grabbing Marinette again.

He hadn’t been expecting an akumatized villain to join the fray. He really could have used Lady Noir’s help with this one. A Cataclysm would have been handy.

Aphid kicked the akumatized villain as he charged, jabbing at his clone on the other side, using the flat of the blade to knock him back.

“Trust me?” he asked Marinette.

“Yes,” she said breathlessly.

He pushed her off the tower, hating himself for it. But that was the only way he could at least temporarily get her out of danger.

The sword was pulled from his hand. Aphid dodged the akumatized villain’s weapon, which got wedged in the grate. Aphid kicked it, releasing the akuma, snagging and purifying it.

“Fetch,” he said, holding out his arms. Marinette appeared in them a second later, bridal style, her hair a flurry around her face.

“Tell me this isn’t your plan until this is over,” she said in between her deep breaths.

“Take this.” He handed her an earbud from his yo-yo. “Tell me when you need me to get you out of danger again. But for now, get out of here.”

Marinette didn’t need to be told twice. She ran.

Aphid followed her at first, not sure where the sentimonster had gone and not sure if there were any other enemies.

He rounded the corner to the staircase that Marinette had rushed down, a heavy body slamming into him. Aphid stumbled down the stairs, flipped over the banister and dropped onto the stairwell a few floors below, smacking into it so hard that the metal dented.               

His vision flickered. He forced himself to breathe through the pain, his body trembling from the effort to get up. Aphid coughed, his chest burning. He had at least one broken rib.

But that didn’t matter. He looked around, searching for Marinette, who had barricaded herself in an elevator. The sentimonster was digging his fingers into the metal slots, trying to pry them apart to get to her.

Aphid unwound his yo-yo, making it dart around his copycat’s waist, tugging him back. He landed with a thud, barely making contact with the floor before jumping to his feet and ramming into Aphid. The string loosened as they tumbled down the stairwell, nearly crashing over the edge. Aphid’s shoulders hung over the ledge, the sentimonster on top of him.

“Aphid?” Marinette’s voice asked through the earbud. “Do you need help?”

“I’ve got him right where I want him,” he said, squirming a bit, the sentimonster’s weight pressing him down.

The metal creaked, angling downward as the stairwell started coming undone, little by little.

He smirked. “Just one little push and you’d fall a very long way.” He pressed a hand into Aphid’s broken ribs, causing him to scream. The metal trembled around them. “You’d be one very squished little bug.”

The ring. What do I do with the ring?

Nothing stood out to him. He was barely conscious as it was. Lady Noir still hadn’t transformed. Without his yo-yo or a way to use his Lucky Charm, he was helpless.

“I’ll be needing something from you before you go,” the sentimonster said, adjusting his legs to pin Aphid down properly.

“Hey!” Blood drained from his face as he spotted Marinette, in all her stubborn glory, standing mere feet away from the falling apart stairwell that they were hanging off, clutching the railing for dear life. “You want me, not him.”

“Actually, this was the exact scenario I’d been hoping for.” The sentimonster pressed his palm into Aphid’s face, squishing it, his other hand reaching for his earring. “After the wish, Paris can use a new superhero.”

“And that’d be you?” Marinette asked.

The fingers paused, pressing into Aphid’s earlobe. “Obviously.”

Something brushed against his fingers, ovular and familiar. His yo-yo? It made no sense how he’d gotten ahold of it again. His fingers stretched, clutching the weapon.

“I don’t know how you’re going to weave a story to convince all of Paris that you aren’t evil,” Marinette said.

“Hm.” The sentimonster shrugged. “I’ll just have to get rid of Adrien Agreste. Take his place too, become the good little model boy. He’s as replaceable as any other person.”

Aphid adjusted his grip on the yo-yo despite the nausea roiling in his stomach.

“And you think I’ll go along with that?” Marinette asked.

“The show must go on.” Aphid’s own face smirked above him. “I’m sorry to tell you this, Marinette, but you’re replaceable too.”

His resolve roared to life. Aphid thrust his hips up, causing the sentimonster to jut forward. He reached for the fake Adrien’s legs, throwing him over the side of the stairwell. Aphid extended his yo-yo, stringing him up as tight as he could. He jumped up to sling his yo-yo string through the still intact staircase above them, watching the sentimonster dangle like a worm on a hook, not even struggling to escape.

The fake swung back and forth, surly. He was exactly like Adrien, down to the birthmark behind his ear. Could a sentimonster really be that accurate, or did it depend on how detail-oriented the creator was?

It was too eerie to look at him anymore, so Aphid instead checked to see if maybe there was an off chance that he was carrying the object containing the amok, searching for a ring.

“I don’t have it,” the sentimonster said. “Sentimonsters are never given their freedom.”

“I would have given it to you,” Aphid said softly. If that were true, who was he to act as if it was the sentimonster’s fault that he was created for such a terrible purpose?     

“I know you care about her,” the sentimonster said, his demeanor shifting. “I’ll keep coming after her until you give me what I want.”

Hawk Moth.

“You should stop hiding behind your puppets,” Aphid replied. “If you want my Miraculous so bad, come take it yourself.”

“I prefer you know what it’s like to be a man with nothing to lose.”

The sentimonster dissipated in a mist.

Aphid took out his yo-yo, capturing and purifying the amok. He let it loose and grabbed the ring from his belt, wondering why his power had given it to him. He flicked it up in the air and used the magical ladybugs to restore Paris. His breathing eased; his wounds restored.

He looked around to find Marinette had taken the elevator down. She was surrounded by paramedics and cameras. His jaw locked. This was all because he’d visited her as Aphid. All because she’d kept him from being akumatized. If Hawk Moth really was going to keep attacking her, if he was so sure that he loved Marinette, it would be too easy for him to realize that Aphid and Adrien were one in the same if he were to confess and she accepted his feelings.

Which meant he could never tell her how he felt.

Aphid swung away from the scene without looking back, knowing his presence would only make everything worse.

Chapter Text

Marinette bit her cheek through the entirety of the medic checkup, the attempts of interviews, and the never-ending track of fans screaming her name. It was infuriating that she had to remain calm and act like the last hour of her life had been nothing but a beginning ballet class to her.

Aphid could have died. She could have died. And to keep her identity safe, she’d done nothing.

She smiled and waved at the crowd when the medic finally deemed her fit. She probably should have asked Aphid to swing her back to the studio, but she hadn’t wanted to face him. Not yet. Hence the very annoying paparazzi bugging out over her wellness check. She was surrounded on all sides. How was she supposed to get out of here?

“Marinette.” A familiar voice broke through the crowd. She relaxed at the sight of her oldest dance partner.

“Luka.” She accepted his hug, melting into his embrace. He was one of those rare souls that could make anyone feel safe.

“I’m so sorry that happened. Let’s get out of here, okay?”

She nodded, keeping her arms around him as the paparazzi followed them to his black Sedan. He opened the door for her, making sure she was safe inside before climbing in through the other door.

A driver she didn’t recognize drove them sluggishly through the crowd. It would have put her on edge, getting in a car with a stranger, but she trusted Luka.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Luka asked.

“Sorry, no.”

“It’s okay. I understand. I’ll always be here if you do.”

Marinette almost wanted to lean against him, but decided against it. She didn’t want to give Luka the wrong idea.

Besides, she had other guys on her mind right now.

“Where did you want to go?”

“I need to go back to the studio.”

“The rest of the shoot was cancelled. I was told it might take a few days before the show starts up again.”

Good. She wanted to hole up at her house until the media found something else to sink their teeth into. “I still need to get my stuff.”

Ever since returning to Paris, she’d been leaving Kaalki at home, hoping to give Plagg some much needed alone time, but she had no idea where Plagg was after leaving him in her duffel during shooting. He hadn’t come to the rescue and she was worried something had happened to him. He would have been a huge help, even if she couldn’t transform, but maybe he’d been in a cheese coma and hadn’t known that she’d been kidnapped.

The driver changed routes. When they arrived, there was a flurry of activity, police officers, crew members, and paparazzi littering the outside of the building. Marinette shoved her way through the crowd, getting permission from the officials to actually go into the building despite it basically being a crime scene, grateful that there were only a few people inside.

She opened the door to the studio she’d left her stuff in. Her bag was right where she’d left it, thank God. Marinette was about to rush to it, but a shadow shifted. She held back a scream.

“I’m sorry. It’s me.” Adrien (or was it?) held out his hands, taking a few steps back. “You call me Pigeon because I used to bob my head in a weird way when you first started teaching me dance. The other night we danced to a Taylor Swift megamix and you got mad at me for not telling you I know her.”

Her heart slowed down. She blinked back tears. She wasn’t used to being afraid. And she hadn’t been expecting Adrien to be here. Wasn’t it on secure lockdown? Not that it mattered to her how he was here. He was clearly waiting for her, like she was some lost puppy that had run away from home that he never bothered to go look for.

It was an unfair comparison, but his presence was rubbing her the wrong way to the point where, despite his facts, she was doubting he was really Adrien.

“I’m so sorry that happened,” he said.

Marinette walked to her bag, trying her best to ignore him. Adrien anticipated what she wanted and reached for her bag first.

Plagg was probably inside. She couldn’t let him see.

“Let me do it,” she snapped.

Adrien straightened, taking a few steps back. She unzipped the bag, angling it away from him. Plagg peered up at her. His emergency phone sat next to him, playing a loop of footage from her kidnapping on mute.

Sorry, he mouthed.

At least he was okay. She gave a tight nod, zipping the bag back up, gently hugging it at her side.

“Is there anything I can do?” Adrien asked, voice hollow.

She shook her head.

“Did you want me to leave you alone?”

She looked down. The only person she wanted to be around now was Plagg. Despite being a narcissistic selfish glutton, he had a soft side that knew exactly how to comfort her when she needed it.

“Is it because he looked like me?”

Marinette blinked, coming back to herself, finally realizing Adrien was guilt tripping himself for no reason. “No. This isn’t your fault.”

Adrien’s hands formed fists. "It was so selfish of me to ask you to come back here."

"No. I want to be here."

“Did he hurt you?"

She’d been knocked unconscious, tied so tight to a chair that her hands still had pins and needles, and been shoved off the Eiffel Tower. Twice. "He just wanted to use me to get to Aphid." 

"You were dangling at the top of the Eiffel Tower."

The shudder of the chair in the wind and the shove of his foot, knocking her into the open, flooded her memories. "I'm aware."

She tried to avoid his eyes as they roamed up and down, looking for damage. "If you want to talk about it with me, you can." 

"Still processing," she said in a clipped tone.

He nodded. "What did you want to do now?"

She crossed her arms. "Honestly, I want to get whatever fight Aphid is going to have with me over with."

"Aphid?" he repeated.

"He's going to blame this whole thing on himself and get overprotective." And maybe talking about it would help with her whole processing thing and keep her from breaking down into a puddle.

"You just got kidnapped."

"And he saved me."

"You could have gotten hurt."

"I didn't."

"There's no guarantee Hawk Moth won't do this again."

"I don't have to have this argument twice, Adrien. Either way, there's nothing you can do about it because you're not Aphid."

It annoyed her that he looked so stricken by the fact, as if it was news to him that he wasn’t a superhero. "Okay."

"Good." She headed for the door. "See you tomorrow."

"You're walking home?" He hurried after her. "By yourself?"

"That’s the plan."

Adrien blocked the door. Her mouth thinned.

On a normal day, she would have been pretty flattered and over the moon that Adrien would be chivalrous and cared about her safety. Now, it felt over the top. Was it? No. And there was no possible way for him to know that she was Lady Noir and could handle herself—not that she could handle herself with her back to the wall, given she couldn’t transform out in the open, but still.

She hated being defenseless. She hated that girls everywhere had to walk down the street wishing they had eyes in the back of their head, thinking about what they could use as weapons, trying their best to only ever exercise when the sun was out and never say or do anything to provoke anyone else. And now they had stupid Hawk Moth to worry about too.

Adrien grabbed the handle, pulling it open for her. "Can you text me when you get home safely?"

She could tell it was taking a lot of effort for him to let her go. She felt bad about pushing him away, but she couldn’t bring herself to let him help her.

Her posture softened. "Yeah. I can do that."

"See you."

Marinette left without another glance. She debated transforming, but she could feel that Aphid was close by, probably watching her make her way home, ready for their verbal brawl. So she walked home, murmuring to Plagg every once and a while that she was okay and that they’d talk about it as soon as they got the chance to, her eyes peeled for danger and her emotions in check, not wanting Hawk Moth to use her rawness to his advantage.

She arrived home, trying to shoo her parents off of her as she repeated over and over again that she was fine, that she was just tired and needed some time to herself. Her dad filled a huge box with all of her favorite baked goods, as if sugar would change the past, but she thanked him all the same, promising to eat as soon as she got up to her room.

Which she locked immediately, surprised that Aphid wasn’t already there despite still being nearby. She sent Adrien a quick text, setting her phone down on the other side of the room, not wanting to look at herself going viral online for all the wrong reasons.

“You okay?” Plagg asked, flying out of the bag.

She swept him out of the air, hugging him to her face. “I was worried about you.”

“Me?” He pushed away from her squishes. “You’re the one who almost got pancaked.”

“Aphid wouldn’t let that happen.”

“You don’t have to pretend you’re fine, you know. Not with me.”

“I know. Later I’ll blubber about it and you’ll complain about getting all wet from my tears. But for now, he’s here.”

There was a knock on her window. She looked up to find Aphid, gesturing if he could come in. She nodded, knowing Plagg had already scurried into a hiding place. Aphid hoisted himself onto the roof and entered through the hatch, climbing off of her bed and giving her space.

She sat down the sweets her dad had given her, opening the box. A peace offering. "Took you long enough."

He stayed where he was, giving her space. "Let's say we skip the argument you're expecting we have over your safety and the very real threats to it."

Maybe the baked goods really had helped. "And talk about what instead?"

“What we’re going to do next.”

“Which is?”

“The sentimonster or, rather, Hawk Moth, said he was going to keep targeting you unless I give him my Miraculous.”

“And?”

“That’s going to be a problem.”

“It really isn’t. He’ll get tired of it eventually and try a new tactic.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

So much for avoiding an argument. She doubted Aphid was incapable of letting things go. “Then you’ll keep saving me, like you do to every single other person in Paris. No special treatment.”

Though, honestly, it was going to be a real pain to try to transform all the time and keep up the charade that Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Lady Noir were two separate people. She was definitely going to need to borrow the Fox Miraculous and make sure that her two selves were seen together.

Aphid cut off her thoughts. “I want you to take a Miraculous.”

“You want what now?”

His face remained passive. “If you have a Miraculous, you can transform and protect yourself.”

What a knuckle brain. “Aphid, even if I had a Miraculous, using it in front of any sort of danger would reveal my identity as a holder.”

His jaw locked. “That’s true, but you should still have one. For protection. And if worse comes to worst, you can use it to get out of a bind and I’ll take it back after the fight.”

“Leaving me an even bigger target than before,” she replied. “You keeping showing Hawk Moth your hand.”

“No matter what we have between us, I’m going to protect you. That’s how the whole superhero gig works.”

“Thank you,” she said stiffly. “But it’s probably best if you keep your distance.”

“I thought about that.” He leaned against her desk, crossing his arms. “But he’s going to keep this up no matter what. It’ll be easy for him to attack you compared to some random person, even if I wasn’t involved.”

“How so?”

“You’re on another dance show, right? He’s targeted them once before. Now that you’re a public figure, I’m sure it’s a simple task for him to comb through the city for someone who has very powerful negative emotions about you. Someone jealous of your talent, anyone who didn’t make it to the finale, anyone in the show who currently isn’t your biggest fan.” He jutted his chin out at her. “He’s going to keep the pressure on us, no matter how little I’m around you. He wants Paris to lose its morale.”

“You being here right now isn’t exactly going to make him lessen up,” she countered.

“I’m not going to be seen publicly with you,” he stated. “As for any future instances where you need my assistance, we’ll be civil and that’s it.”

She wanted to roll her eyes at him. It’s not like she was the one who had lost control during their kiss, or started this whole thing. “Seems like you’re implying we’ll have super secret meetings like this one.” Marinette crossed her arms, leaning forward. “Something you wouldn’t want anyone finding out about.”

“For your safety.”

Right. Her safety.

“I’m not taking a Miraculous,” she said. “I’m not risking anything happening to it. If you ever give one to someone, it needs to be someone Hawk Moth hasn’t targeted and can’t trace back to you.” She stretched. “As for other times we’re around each other, I promise not to swoon in your arms.”

I’ll try my best, but you’re just so amazing, she thought sarcastically, trying not to look at his intimidatingly flawless physique taking up residence a few feet away. It was a difficult task, given the expanse of him.

“Well.” She sat down in her computer chair, opening up a screen and going back to her most recent song search for the competition. “Now that that’s all settled.”

He didn’t seem to understand the dismissal. He walked to the side of her desk, studying her picture collage. Which, now that she was thinking about it, was full of pictures of Adrien.

Dear God in heaven, she thought. “Can I help you?”

He ran his fingers over the different pictures she had. “You almost died today.”

It was sad that she’d rather talk about her near-death experience than talk about Adrien. “You wouldn’t have let that happen.”

“It’s easier to make sure you’re safe when I’m near you.”

Marinette gripped her knees. “I’m not the biggest fan of bugs creeping around my room.”

His eyes met hers, glinting with a rare humor. “I think I’m a bit better looking than the average cockroach.”

Blood rushed to her cheeks. She put her headphones on, going back to her music. “I didn’t take you to be a guy to force a girl to do anything she wasn’t comfortable with.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not.”

“You can’t be around me every second of every day, Aphid.”

“I know.”

A minute of silence went by. She started imagining him leaving her room just to go sit on a nearby rooftop, keeping a silent watch. All night long.

Him and his dumb self-guilt tripping. “You can stay the night.”

“I…what?”

“You’re not going to sleep otherwise.” She revolved to face him. “But you can’t be Edward from Twilight. You can’t watch me all the time. Just keep doing what you’re doing with your insane response times when you get akuma alerts and I’ll be fine.”

“I’m just worried—”

“If you don’t treat me differently than any other civilian, Hawk Moth will stop too,” she assured.

They watched one another, as if searching for weakness. He was smart enough to stop arguing. “I can take the chemise.”

She couldn’t help but snicker. “You’ve never slept on a chemise if you’re offering to sleep on it.”

His nose wrinkled, like he didn’t believe her. “I’ll survive.”

She couldn’t help but take in his proportions. This summer she hadn’t had much time to be around him other than to catch wild akumas. All of her waking thoughts had been ensnared by a different boy. She hadn’t thought much of their kiss, given she’d been in America, her lips only aching for Adrien. Then Aphid had gone and kissed her again, a chaste peck that she’d been trying not to think about until now.

Here, his scarlet clad figured filled up the intimate space. Despite how annoyed she was finding his protectiveness to be, now that her irritation at being a damsel was wearing off, it was actually pretty nice to get this much attention from him. She really shouldn’t be happy to see the way his eyes stayed glued on her. She shouldn’t be completely aware of every flex of his muscles, every tick of his jaw, every inch he shifted in her direction.

But there was something about having Aphid in her bedroom that brought him to life in a way she wasn’t used to. Seeing him in an ordinary setting, one so personal and small, made him seem bigger. Not physically so much as the idea of him. It’s not like she didn’t know Aphid well. They were partners. But for him to see this side of her, to get the chance to see him outside of “work” was something she’d never thought she’d get.

“Have you seen your proportions?” she asked, a bit quieter than she’d meant to, her eyes snagged on his body.

Be professional, she thought. He’s professional.

Besides, she loved Adrien.

“I forgot you get like this,” Aphid muttered, almost too quietly for her to hear.

Her eyes widened. “What?”

Did he know she was Lady Noir? She dropped the idea. If he knew, he wouldn’t be sitting here right now acting like he had to defend her.

“Nothing.” He sat on the chemise. “It’s comfortable.”

“Sitting isn’t the problem.”

As much as Marinette loved her chemise, it was all for looks, not for lounging. She shifted her weight as Aphid tried to lay down, finding that his knees hit the end of it, his legs dangling off.

He shifted to his side to find himself face to face with the back of it, his nose squished. He rolled over, expression contorted as he tucked himself into a tight ball.

She crouched down, a sweet smile on her face. “Comfortable?”

He looked ready to push her onto her butt.

She couldn’t help but poke his cheek, satisfied. “Come sleep with me.”

Aphid’s mouth dropped open.

Marinette almost screamed at the images that must have popped in his head, but kept her voice casual. “I don’t mean it like that, pervert.” She could feel the Lady Noir in her cry. “It’s the only space I’ve got that you could actually sleep in.”

He glanced up at the twin sized bed. “Looks a bit crowded.”

“Given there are two exits to my room and the one above the bed is the easiest to get to for an intruder, you’re probably going to want to be as close to it as possible anyway.” Before he could retort, she said, “I’m going to the bathroom to get ready for bed.” She started grabbing things to take with her. “It’s down the hall if you need it. My parents have their own in their bedroom, so you shouldn’t run into them. If you’re super worried about it, I guess you can use one of the powers you have to turn invisible?”

He nodded.

“Help yourself to that food. I’m sure you’re hungry.”

“Thanks, Marinette.”

Plagg followed her to the bathroom, turning away as she undressed, his arms crossed. “As much as I love chaos and destruction, you’re pushing this too far.”

“He’s not going to leave, Plagg.” She stepped into the shower. “I’m sure you saw him falling off the chemise like Humpty Dumpty.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t invite him in here with you.”

Her hands paused on her naked body, flushing. “Will you stop?”

“Don’t pretend you aren’t excited about this turn of events.”

“Turn of events? I was kidnapped.”

“I don’t mean that, I mean your bug boyfriend.”

“We’re not together.” She went back to shampooing her hair. “I’m not having this conversation again.”

“Back and forth, back and forth. You holders are so repetitive. That’s the definition of insanity, you know!”

Marinette ignored him, finishing up. She purposefully kept her appearance sloppy, trying to prove to Plagg that she seriously didn’t care what Aphid thought of her.

When she got back to the room, Aphid had a book open in his hand. Inside was a pressed rose. The one Adrien had gifted Lady Noir for saving him from an akumatized Chloe.

She’d never been able to part with it, even as it began wilting. To make sure she could look at it anytime she wanted to, she’d pressed it in a ballet book big enough to hold it.

If she wasn’t mortified, she’d be accusing him of snooping.

“My mom gave me that,” she lied. “She’s one of those people who always wants people to feel really special, you know? So I kept it.”

“I’m glad you have such loving parents.” He closed the book, his fingers digging into the spine.

“Want a set of pajamas?” she asked, hoping her teasing would lighten his mood.

“Very funny.” He looked up, freezing at the sight of her.

“What?” She looked down, wondering if there was something on her. Or nothing, with the way he was staring at her legs.

But then she realized she’d grabbed her Aphid themed pajama pants. Another questionable decision in her day full of questionable decisions regarding the hero.

“Look, I ran Aphid Day. Do you really think I wasn’t going to have a pair of these?” But it felt very stupid, wearing them in front of him. After months of this particular set being released, most people in Paris had them, but this was the pair he’d given her. “Don’t think anything of it. It’s out of moral support, not…whatever it is you’re thinking.”

“I’m not thinking anything.”

He most definitely was. He was always thinking. But his focus went back to the wall, where all her pictures were.

She hid her hands behind her back, not wanting him to see her ring. She’d already screwed up enough today. Aphid couldn’t find out who she really was. She was sure Plagg would throw a fit that she was taking it off, but if someone attacked them tonight, she’d be a sitting duck anyway. Marinette placed it on the table behind her, keeping it hidden from sight, knowing Plagg would hold onto it for her.

Marinette grabbed a croissant, taking a bite, trying not to be flustered the longer Aphid took in her relationship with Adrien.

“Do you have a favorite?” he asked, gesturing to the wall.

What an awkward question. She stood next to him, pointing to a selfie where she was piggy back on Adrien’s back. “We went shopping in the Montmartre district and I made a joke that I was going to break my ankles on the cobblestone there, so he forced me to ride on his back every time we came to a patch of cobblestone we had to pass.”

“Your very own noble steed,” Aphid commented.

“He did make a lot of nickering sounds.”

“Why’s that your favorite?”

She took another bite of her croissant and shrugged. “It was fun.”

But it was more than that. It’d been their first public date. Even before they’d been “dating,” all of their time spent together, minus the whole club debacle, had been spent in private. Marinette wasn’t exactly one to show off anything besides choreography, but it had been profoundly beautiful to her to be able to walk hand in hand with the person she admired most in the world for all the world to see.

She shoved the rest of the croissant in her mouth, trying not to feel bad about where she stood with Adrien. “Time for bed.”  

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to go to sleep after eating that without brushing your teeth?”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “If I met you without the mask, would you be this hardcore about everything?”

“No.”

That threw her. “Then why are you being like this now?”

“You’re right.” He sat down, hunched over. “Now that I think about it, I’m worried I’ll get too relaxed and it’ll ruin things.”

She started tidying up the chemise, which she was super tempted to force him to sleep on. “So instead you’ll critique everything I do and smother me.”

“I’m sorry.” He rubbed his face. “It’s been a long day and I feel like I’m messing up every aspect of my life.”

“I promise I’m not trying to make it harder on you. I really appreciate what you did for me.” She paused. “I didn’t thank you for saving me, did I?”

“No.”

“Thank you.” She softened. “I’m sorry I’m making life more difficult for you.”

“It’s Hawk Moth, not you.”

“Yeah, but I’m not making things easy either.”

“You never do.”

She blinked, unsure what he meant by that. Before she could ask, he stood up, assessing their bed situation. “I’ll take the railing side, if you don’t mind. That way I can protect you if someone comes through the door and grab you and get us down faster.”

Marinette nodded.

He gestured to the ladder. “Ladies first.”

She swallowed, climbing up onto the bed, overthinking which way she wanted to lie down. He crawled in next, opting to face her as well.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“Hey.”

They watched one another. She could hear his slow breaths, awed that air flowed through his lungs and blood pumped through his veins the same as any other person in the world. But his rising chest and beating heart were the reason Paris was saved time and time again.

And, underneath the suit, more than his body functions, he was a boy around her age with a life she knew absolutely nothing about. For the millionth time, she wondered if he played video games. If he had a large friend group or preferred to be alone. If he had a good family or a bad one. If he struggled to make ends meet or lived in the lap of luxury.

There were so many questions she had that would help her piece together who he really was, but she couldn’t ask anything. She could only stare, admiring his closeness and how dedicated he was to protecting her, even at a cost to himself.

“I’m not sleepy yet,” she admitted.

“Me either.”

“Just eager to get me to bed,” she said without thinking, regretting it.

Aphid turned onto his back, an arm above his head. “Sometimes you really sound like Lady Noir.”

She pinkened. “I’m just blunt is all.”

“I know.”

He knew? From their very few interactions?

“You have a lot of pictures of Adrien Agreste on your wall.”

Marinette tried not to squirm against him. “We dated.”

“And now you’re not?”        

“We talked about this the other night, remember?” She’d finally admitted their relationship was all a fraud.

“A lot of them are of you two kissing.”

Of course he’d noticed that. “I was gone all summer, Aphid. You know that. I haven’t exactly had time to redecorate.”

He shifted restlessly.

“You come across as a guy who doesn’t get much sleep at night,” she whispered.

“Because I’m so busy being in beds that don’t belong to me?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“You sure act like you know me well.”

“So do you,” she challenged, knowing he wouldn’t have anything to retort with since he was a hypocrite. She decided to be nice and changed the subject. “Do you think Lady Noir has her own support civilian that she goes and visits?”

“That’s not what you are.”

“Then what am I?”    

He shifted. “I don’t talk about it with her.”

Of course he wasn’t going to answer that. “Would it bother you if she did?”

“I trust her to keep secrets and make good decisions.” She sensed a double meaning to his words. A warning.

“Maybe you should tell her that.” She couldn’t help chastising him. It felt rare for Aphid to praise her for a job well done. “Besides, you need someone to open up to. I’m not saying it should be me. I’m just saying everyone needs someone.”

“Hard to for people who wear masks.”

She curled up on her side, which gave her a great angle for watching his eyebrows scrunch. “I stand by what I said.”

“What’s going to get you to go to bed, sli—sleep?”

It wasn’t like him to jumble his words. She might as well make him more flustered. “How about a bedtime story?”

"Is that what you want?"

She blinked with as much pleading as she could muster.

He let out an almost inaudible sigh. "Is this a wild card kind of story or did you have a preference?"

"A happy one."

"The way you said that makes me think you don't think I'm capable of telling one."

"I'm sure you'll prove me wrong."

Aphid thought for a moment. "Once upon a time there was a land full of ballerinas. Most of them wore magical slippers that danced for them, enchanted tutus that could spin all day without their wearer losing balance, or hairclips that made anyone who looked at them instantly believe, without a doubt, that they were the most talented and beautiful of all the dancers. But there was one ballerina that had different kinds of magic—talent and hard work. She scorned the magical items, claiming that real dance came not from the items you wore, but what was in your heart. And she practiced until her toes bled, until her body cramped, until she could truly earn the title of best dancer.

"One day, there was a competition. Every single ballerina in the land, hundreds of them, gathered for the chance to be called the best. It was a fierce competition, all of them spruced up with so many enchanted items that their buns fell out, their tutus tore, and their slippers frenzied. The ballerina who used no magic scoffed at their petty pruning, their need to be called something that wasn't even true. But despite her talent and hard work, everyone in the audience still preferred the guise of enchantment.

"She didn't win. But it wasn't the winning that was important to her. In her heart, she knew that she understood what ballet was meant to be and that was what truly mattered."

Marinette let the story sink in, awed by how personal he'd made it.

"Think I'll lose?" she teased, trying not to think about him without the mask.

"I don't think winning is that important to you." He glanced down at her. "What do you dance for?"

"I wanted to make it big. Not to be famous or anything. It's just...I wanted to dance. And I didn't want to teach it to little kids. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I do really think people who don't make it go into teaching and that's not really where they wanted to be, at least when it comes to teaching at that level." She took a deep breath. "I didn't really care who I danced for, so long as it was professional. It felt like the world would stop turning if I didn’t make it."

"And now?"

"Now I'm not so sure."

"Why'd you come back?" he asked gently, without the hint of fear he had of her being in Paris. It made her want to curl into his arms.

"I didn't like it in New York." She bit her lip. "Adrien helped me get into Juilliard and then I squandered that opportunity. I couldn't focus. It's like I don't know how to dance without him anymore."

"So you came back for him?"

Her face heated. "To dance with him, yeah."

"Must be some partner."

"He grows on you."

"Like a parasite?"

Marinette snorted. "No, I mean it. He's really thoughtful. And he's not stuck up at all. He always puts other people first and he's incredibly easy to get along with." She blew out a breath. "I don't know how he puts up with me honestly. I'm obstinate."

"That's a big word."

She pushed him. "Meanie."

He grinned. "At least I'm not obstinate."

"You're definitely obstinate."

"But Adrien isn't?"

"Not at all."

"Checks out." He stretched. "For someone who got a bedtime story, you don't seem at all tired."

"How could I be when I have a superhero in my room?"

"Yeah. You seem incredibly star struck."

"I'm too obstinate to be."

He chuckled. 

Her thoughts snagged yet again, wondering who he was. His story had been too personal. They'd only met a handful of times. It's not like people didn't know her story, with all the interviews she'd gone through. He'd met her at the studio. He knew her. And yet...it still didn't make sense to her that he could so easily tell a story about her, like it was nothing.

"What made you chop off all your hair?" he asked.

"Oh, so now you notice?"

"I noticed right away, Marinette."

The way he said it made her steer to shallower waters. "If you must know, I felt like a change. Long hair isn't exactly easy to manage. New show, new style."

"It looks nice."