Chapter Text
Marinette had never been so proud and so nervous at the same time. One year into her design degree, and she was the youngest designer to ever be featured in one of Gabriel's shows. It was a huge honor! And also mind-numbingly terrifying! Sure, her designs had gotten her this far, but what if nobody liked them? What if nobody liked her?
"Stop panicking." Her mentor, Veronica, poked Marinette's arm. Veronica was an older woman, a serious designer who had a soft spot for her youngest mentee. She could also read Marinette like a book. "Just focus on the show. It should give you some new ideas for your next project."
The younger woman had to agree. Models paraded down the catwalk, one after the other, displaying some truly inspiring outfits. Marinette's hands itched to start drawing, but she knew it would have to wait. The room was buzzing with quiet conversation as spectators whispered to each other, cameras flashed in the dim lighting...it was everything Marinette had ever imagined and more.
And then something happened that she never could have imagined happening: Chat Noir strolled out onto the catwalk in an outfit of Gabriel Agreste's own design.
Time stopped.
Marinette always assumed she would be able to recognize her Chaton without the mask, and she was right - she just never thought she'd discover his civilian identity at a fashion event. Where he was modeling the latest looks from her idol.
Her jaw dropped.
Her Chaton, a model.
The moment he stepped on stage, photographers jumped to their feet and followed him all the way down the catwalk, calling for his attention. The crowd twittered, young women in particular staring at him hungrily. Unlike the other models, he walked alone, and stayed out on the catwalk for much longer, posing with the grace and practice of a professional.
Her Chaton, a famous model.
If you ever saw me without the mask, Bugaboo, you wouldn't be able to resist me.
Time started again. Marinette's cheeks flushed, and she fanned herself absently. Why was the room suddenly too stuffy? And too loud?
She'd always known Chat Noir was attractive - the mask could only hide so much - but Good. Lord. That was nothing compared to seeing him on stage, subtle make-up expertly applied to make his green eyes - he really did have green eyes! - pop, that mop of blond hair arranged just so, stylish outfit perfectly tailored to show off his figure. He looked uncharacteristically serious, but that was her Kitty up there, no doubt about it.
"Admiring the outfit or the boss's son?"
Marinette tore her eyes away from her partner. "What?"
Veronica raised an eyebrow. "I see you drooling over Adrien Agreste. You're not exactly being subtle."
Adrien Agreste?
Adrien? Agreste?
Son of her idol, Gabriel Agreste?
Marinette stared back at the catwalk. Chat Noir flashed a dazzling smile at the crowd, met by the shrieks of approving women, and made his exit.
Veronica leaned over, sighing. "Don't be too disappointed, dear. He's the featured model. He'll be back."
And he was. In between each new line, Chat Noir swept back on stage in a new outfit. Blazers, suspenders, vests, hats - he looked good in everything. It was so infuriating that it shook Marinette out of her daze. She huffed and crossed her arms. It was just like her Kitty to wind up being the most attractive man she'd ever seen.
The show ended, and she chatted with Veronica as they walked next door for the reception. "I think that went well."
"Me too!" Marinette gushed. "The models did such a good job! Would it be too much for me to send them hand-written thank-you cards?"
Veronica sent her mentee a fond smile. "I think it sounds very you, Marinette."
Veronica introduced her to the head of a fashion house, and then another, and then another. Marinette gathered names and phone numbers and heaps of praise over her designs. She focused to the best of her ability, but once she spotted Chat - Adrien - across the room, she couldn't stop her eyes from flicking back to him every few seconds.
After saying goodbye to another designer, Marinette took a moment to study him. He seemed so subdued here - always nodding, smiling politely, standing ramrod straight with his hands clasped behind his back. If he had to be so picture perfect all the time, no wonder his wild side came out as Chat.
Picture purr-fect, a voice in her head corrected.
"You're distracted," Veronica said in her ear.
Marinette jumped. "What? No I'm not."
Veronica huffed. "You have been since you first saw the Agreste boy." She sighed. "You are still young, you know."
"Huh?"
"You've done enough networking tonight," Veronica declared. "Go have some fun. Introduce yourself."
Marinette thanked her mentor and inched past the string quartet, past conversations and dancing couples and business deals. She fiddled with the fabric of her skirt, part of a flowy pink dress she'd designed and made herself. The refreshments table was close enough that she could eavesdrop on his conversation without being spotted.
Accepting a glass of wine from a passing waiter, Marinette glanced over at her partner. There were several women hanging off him, all smiling to his face and glaring at each other when his head was turned. He looked incredibly uncomfortable, trying unsuccessfully to untangle himself from their grasps. Marinette recalled a few conversations where Chat had mentioned it was difficult for him to connect with people, because he was never sure if they liked him for him or for what he could offer them. She set her wine glass down, hands clenching into fists.
"-I think that was your best look yet." A girl with waist-length brown hair traced a finger down Chat's - Adrien's - arm and fluttered her eyelashes at him. He stepped back, sending her a forced smile.
"Thank you, Lila." Marinette jumped a little at the sound of his voice.
"Nonsense." Clinging to his other arm was none other than Chloé Bourgeois, Marinette's former classmate and bully. "Every look is your best look, Adrikins."
Adrien - Chat - plastered on that forced smile again and hunched his shoulders. Marinette's Ladybug instincts kicked in - that was her partner, gosh darn it, and it was her job to protect him. Even from crazy fangirls.
Especially from crazy fangirls.
Another girl spoke as Marinette approached from the side. "Enough chatting," she said, glaring at Lila and Chloé. "Let's dance, Adrien."
Adrien tugged at his collar. "Actually, I - "
"He already has a dance partner."
All eyes turned to Marinette. Adrien's jaw dropped.
"Marinette Dupain-Cheng?" Chloé sneered at her rival. "What are you doing here? Moonlighting as a waitress?"
Marinette flushed under Adrien's gaze, but she stared at Chloé cooly. "I'm one of the featured designers," she corrected. "And I'm here to dance with Adrien." She turned to look at Chat Noir, who was still staring at her, open-mouthed, and offered him a hand. "Shall we, partner?"
He blinked, and then his face lit up in a genuine smile. All but ripping himself away from the other women, Adrien - Chat - took her hand. "After you, my Lady," he whispered.
They walked toward the string quartet hand-in-hand, drawing more than a few stares. Neither of them noticed or cared. Every other thing that could have held their attention - making connections, pleasing Gabriel, keeping a low profile - seemed so unimportant in comparison with the magnitude of finding each other.
Keeping her hand - her bare hand! - tight in his grasp, Adrien pulled her close and set his other hand on the small of her back. Marinette's free hand rested on his shoulder. They swayed back and forth, just taking each other in, until she spoke.
"So, Adrien Agreste, huh?"
He grinned a Chat Noir grin. "Nothing but the best for you, Bugaboo."
She rolled her eyes fondly. "It makes me so mad that you were right, you know."
He raised an eyebrow, not taking his eyes off her. "Right about what?"
Marinette stepped closer, circling the arm on his should up around his neck. "I really can't resist you without the mask."
Adrien flushed red all the way up to the tips of his ears. "R-really?" he squeaked.
"Really." She smiled up at him.
He gulped. "So - uh - so you know Chloé?"
"Unfortunately." Marinette's fingers played with the collar of his shirt. "We used to go to school together. As you can tell, we're not exactly on the best of terms."
"I don't think anybody in the world is on the best of terms with Chloé," he said, and she laughed. "I've known her all my life," he confessed. "For a long time, she was my only friend."
"Not anymore," Marinette said firmly. "You can have me and all of my friends."
Chat's eyes softened. "You look stunning."
She ducked to avoid his adoring gaze, flushing. "You're too sweet."
"I mean it," he insisted, pulling her a little closer. "You're easily the most gorgeous woman in this room."
She rolled her eyes. "There are literal models here, Chat."
"I know that, LB." He smiled at her blush. "I like your dress. I thought red was a good color on you, but pink..." he let out a low whistle.
Marinette smacked his shoulder. "Stop it," she commanded, but she couldn't help a smile. "I made it myself," she offered.
His eyes widened, and he looked her up and down. "Spin," he said, stepping back, and she spun with a giggle. "Amazing," he breathed, pulling her back to him. "But of course it is, it's you."
Beside them, someone cleared their throat. "Adrien," a deep voice said.
Chat stiffened, smile disappearing. "Father," he said, and his fingers dug into her back as his grip on her tightened. The action sent a shiver down her spine.
Marinette turned to face Gabriel Agreste himself, who was staring at her appraisingly. She remembered a few things Chat Noir had mentioned about his father before - he was controlling, unappreciative, cold - and felt her admiration for her idol dissipate. She stared back at him.
"Are you going to introduce me to your friend?" Gabriel asked, his cold eyes still on Marinette.
"Father, this is - "
"Marinette Dupain-Cheng." She held out a hand, and Gabriel shook it. "I am one of the designers from your show tonight."
"Hmm." Gabriel released her hand. "I know your work. Quite impressive for someone so young."
"Thank you, sir."
"I was unaware you knew my son."
Adrien shifted uncomfortably, but Marinette kept her voice casual. "It didn't seem like relevant information when I applied for the spot in tonight's show."
Gabriel's eyes searched hers, and she didn't back down. Eventually he nodded. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Dupain-Cheng."
"You as well, Mr. Agreste."
Gabriel nodded to his son. "Good work tonight, Adrien."
"Thank you, Father." Adrien watched him walk away, still on edge.
"I don't like your father," Marinette announced, placing her arms around his neck.
His hands found their way to her waist on their own, his thoughts still occupied. "Well I think he likes you," he said, blinking. "He's never that nice to my friends."
She raised her eyebrows. "That was him being nice? That settles it, Kitty Chat. You're living with me now."
His eyes met hers again, and he grinned. "Yes, ma'am."
Marinette's fingers reached up to trace his cheekbone, where his mask would normally be. "Is there somewhere we can go to be alone?" she asked quietly.
His eyes got wide. "Yes. Let's go now."
They walked off the dance floor, his arm around her waist, her hand resting on his shoulder. It was a silent agreement between them - now that they'd found each other, they weren't ever letting go.