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Marinette is close friends with Chat Noir.
Not as Ladybug - no, they’re partners, Marinette wouldn’t call them close. Ladybug doesn’t really have friends, only allies.
Marinette has a lot of friends, and she’s pretty happy to number Chat Noir among them.
He started turning up on her balcony a few months ago. He visits everything other patrol night, meaning that Marinette is never caught unaware - and also meaning that Ladybug has to quietly race home to beat him, night after night.
Chat just likes to hang out, apparently. At first Marinette was suspicious of his motives, but after a few months she’s gotten used to him.
“Video game night?” She asks him, grinning, when he turns up late with the case for a newly released game in his teeth. He nods at her and smiles, and she can see he’s holding it delicately by his too-sharp canines. Marinette goes to take it from his mouth, but he bites down harder and pulls back playfully, and she’s laughing by the time he finally gives it up.
“You are so weird,” she tells him as she ushers him down into her bedroom, carefully avoiding the dents in the plastic casing.
This is likely why he’d been late; Chat hadn’t had it with him when they were on patrol, so he probably ducked back to wherever home was to grab it.
“Is my princess going to say nothing about the game I went out of my way to get?” He pouts, flattening his ears against his head and looking up at her with big green eyes.
“Not when you put bite marks in the case,” Marinette says, giving him a halfhearted attempt at a glare. When she checks what the game actually is, though, she’s surprised.
“Isn’t this coming out tomorrow?” She asks.
Chat looks a little sheepish. “You said you wanted to play it really badly, so…” He trails off as she smiles.
“I’m not going to ask where you got it,” she says.
He smiles again, a wily Chat grin, and says, “Superheroes have their ways.”
Ways, Marinette knows from experience, usually means letting a note drop to the mayor about something the heroes would really appreciate as thank-you gifts. It’s unusual, though, because normally it’s Ladybug tipping the mayor off about something Chat would like, or vice versa. They almost never get things for themselves.
Chat sidles over to flop ungracefully into one of the two chairs she’s got set up in front of her computer. “Ready to get your ass handed to you?” He asks.
Marinette snorts, jabbing at the power button and hovering over the disk slot as she waits for her desktop to turn on. Her screen explodes in a bright burst of pink (thankfully not Adrien, Chat laughed his ass off the first time she turned her computer on and she’s permanently changed it since then). She tosses him a controller without looking, and doesn’t need to hear it slap against his leather glove to know he’s caught it.
“How many times have you beaten me?” She asks scornfully as she slides the disk in and drops back into the seat next to him.
“Gimme a sec,” he says, leaning forward to rummage through a basket on her desk. He pulls out a tiny pink notebook. “Eleven,” Chat tells her after a short pause.
“And how many times have I beaten you?” She continues, letting her tone be a little smug. She’s earned this victory.
There’s a noticeably longer pause. “Forty-one,” he finally admits, after counting all the tallies. “But thirteen of those were Mario Kart, which I said didn’t count!”
Marinette frowns at the piece of paper. “How can you tell which ones were Mario Kart?” She asks, leaning in to see.
“Different pen color.” Chat shows her, and sure enough, the tallies are marked in bright green.
“I don’t have a green pen,” she tells him.
Chat doesn't meet her eyes. He reaches for her basket again and pulls out a Chat Noir-themed pen.
“Your bedroom was too pink,” he says quietly, and Marinette howls with laughter.
“Oh, kitty, what’m I going to do with you?” She says playfully, rubbing at a spot just behind his ears.
He rumbles - the Chat Noir equivalent of a purr, she thinks, she’s never heard it as Ladybug - and ducks away from her hand. “Less pats, more ass-kicking,” he says.
Four rounds later, Chat groans and tosses his controller onto the desk. “Less ass-kicking, please. I really need to start picking up co-op games.”
Marinette laughs. “Done for the night?”
He slides open his baton, and looks surprised at the time it tells him. “Yeah,” he says, “I’ve got homework to do.”
Marinette looks at the time. It’s one-thirty in the morning.
“So do I,” she whispers fearfully.
Chat frowns at her expression. “Should I drop by less often?” He says. “I know that school gets heavy at the end of the year.”
“No, it’s fine,” Marinette says, and smiles. “I can copy Alya’s work in the morning.”
She forgets to copy Alya’s work in the morning.
She ends up not doing the homework for two of her four classes, but that’s fine. She gets to stand next to Adrien when they get held back and yelled at.
Adrien looks tired, too, like she feels - but he’s happy, he’s getting yelled at for not doing his work but he smiles when he says he’s sorry. Marinette hopes he missed his work for something happy, like talking to his friends - she hopes he never hands in a homework assignment again as long as he’s happy.
“Adrien!” Nino’s greeting him as soon as they’re let out of the classroom, throwing an arm across his shoulders and grinning. “Dude, there’s a new game that came out this morning, wanna go pick up a copy and try it?”
Adrien laughs. “Sure, yeah, I don’t think I’ve got anything on.”
Marinette knows he doesn’t.
“I’ve got a copy if you two want to try it before you go and spend any money on it,” she offers from Alya’s side.
Alya looks surprised, and so does Nino. Adrien looks delighted, for some reason.
Marinette realizes that it’s the first time she’s spoken to him without stuttering. She’s proud of herself, momentarily, then remembers she’d just been having a conversation.
“Mari, that’d be great!” Nino slings his other arm over her, tucking her against his side. “That explains why you sprinted outta here during lunch break, right?”
“Yeah,” Marinette squeaks in agreement. She’d actually gone home for a few minutes because Tikki had been starving and she’d somehow forgotten to bring cookies - but yeah, good excuse, thank you Nino. “It’s at home, though.”
“We can stop by after our last class is over,” and Nino grins at Adrien. “Sound good to you, man?”
“Sounds fine,” Adrien says, smiling across Nino at Marinette. “Thanks, Marinette.”
There’s something in his smile Marinette can’t quite place - almost like he’s smug - but she ignores it because holy hell Adrien just said words and she said words back and she’s somehow still alive.
Nino lets go of Marinette then, and she retreats to the relative safety of Alya’s side. Alya gives her a small, heart-warming speech as soon as they’re out of earshot, and Marinette gives herself a pat on the back.
Nino and Adrien follow her back to the bakery after school like two lost puppies. She guides them up to her room, and Nino mocks the pinkness of everything. Adrien doesn’t comment, just stands there like he’s comfortable here, like he knows where he should be - but Marinette supposes that he has been here once before.
“Here,” she says, fishing the disk out of her computer and handing it to Nino with a small smile.
“No case?” Is all she gets in response. “Damn, Mari, take care of your games.”
Marinette flushes to match her desktop screen, thinking of the case, tooth marks and all, under her desk where she’d casually knocked it aside on her way in. Adrien looks like he’s about to start laughing, but for the life of her she can’t place why.
“It’s somewhere in my room,” and she gestures vaguely towards the bottom of her closet, which she knows is a mess. “I just kinda tossed it aside when I got the game out.”
Adrien does laugh at that, but it’s short, and she can tell instinctively he doesn’t mean it in a cruel way. “Marinette is dedicated when it comes to her games,” he says, grinning at her.
Nino smiles too. “Sure,” he agrees. “We owe you for this, Mari.”
“We going to go to yours or mine?” She hears Adrien ask as they’re all headed down the stairs.
Nino barks a laugh. “Your place, dude, your stereo system is a thing of my dreams.”
Marinette has to admit, that makes her curious.
So curious, in fact, that Ladybug turns up at Adrien’s window after the next patrol night, a few days later.
She taps on the window, even though the one beside her is wide open.
Adrien’s in black sweatpants, and his hair is damp like he’d just been showering. Ladybug is soggy, too - it’s raining outside, and she was surprised Chat Noir showed up for patrol, with how much he hates the rain.
Adrien looks up, startled, halfway through toweling off his hair. His eyes go wide and his jaw - it doesn’t quite drop, but it’s not far off.
“Hey,” Adrien starts as she moves in front of the open window, still hovering anxiously outside.
Ladybug can hear the nervousness in his voice, like he’s not sure how to feel about this. She thinks he’s happy, but there’s also some fear - why is he so hard to read, everybody else’s body language is so fluid and perfect.
“Hi,” she tries. “I heard you’ve got a copy of a new game?”
Adrien looks at her strangely for a minute, then shrugs. “Came out a few days ago, but yeah.” He eyes her curiously. “You wanna play?”
She shrugs too, trying to be nonchalant. “Sure.”
Adrien steps back, gesturing with one hand for her to come in, and rummages through a closet before producing a towel. He throws it to her as her feet touch the floor.
“For your hair,” he tells her when she looks at him, confused.
Ladybug tugs the ribbons out of her hair and tries to ignore the look he gives her when her hair is down and sticking in wet clumps at the back of her neck. She rubs her hair until it’s only damp, then tosses the towel into a laundry basket sitting at the door to his bedroom.
Adrien slinks in close to her side - and shakes his head like a dog, why. Water flies everywhere, and Ladybug can’t believe she didn’t see this coming. She makes a noise of disgust and shoves at him.
He laughs even as he staggers away, and throws himself onto the ridiculously huge couch in front of an equally ridiculously huge TV.
“C’mon,” he says, “the disk’s already in, I was playing with a friend this afternoon.”
The sound of the game starting up is music to her ears, and goddamn Nino was not kidding, this surround-sound system is already her favorite thing and Adrien hasn’t even pressed the start button yet.
She plays significantly worse than Marinette did oh-so-little-time ago in her bedroom, perhaps because Adrien’s crows of delight cancel out any unhappiness at her deaths, and perhaps because she’s got latex gloves over her hands and wow how does Chat ever function in leather, no wonder Marinette can beat him so easily.
They play for hours. It’s great, it really is. Ladybug steadily gets used to her gloves, until she’s almost holding her own against Adrien. She’s about to end this round with her special attack when someone knocks at the door.
Adrien looks over at her, wide eyes panicked. Ladybug shoots up and is halfway out the window before she pauses. She looks back.
“See you,” she says softly.
Adrien looks so happy that Ladybug can’t help but smile at him. He smiles back, and then turns and heads for the door.
On her way back home, she passes a clock tower. It tells her it’s half an hour past midnight.
Well, there goes her homework.
After getting scolded for not doing their homework yet again, Adrien pulls Marinette aside. Alya winks at her from the other side of the classroom door, and vanishes with Nino on her arm, laughing at something.
“Hey, I just wanted to give this back.” Adrien offers her the disk she’d given him four days ago. It’s in a clear plastic case to protect it.
“Are you sure? You can-- you can keep it, if you want to,” Marinette tells him. Somehow, since playing with him as Ladybug, he’s a little easier to manage.
“I think it should go back to its rightful owner,” Adrien tells her. His lips twitch like he’s trying not to grin.
“Right.” Of course, Chat Noir started this whole fiasco - in fact, Marinette should probably take it back, so she has when he drops in after their next patrol. He’ll most likely take it with him when he leaves. “Thanks.”
Marinette takes the disk from Adrien’s outstretched hand, and practically jumps out of her skin when their hands brush as he gives it to her. He just offers her a little smile.
“It’s a good game, I’m planning to get my own copy this afternoon. You should come and play,” he tells her.
“Sure,” Marinette manages, face pink.
Adrien grabs his bag, and leaves the classroom. Marinette hears him greet Nino and Alya in the hallway.
She sinks into her seat with a groan, and taps the disk against her face. Why did she think playing with Adrien last night would be a good idea? He’s cute when he’s winning, and he’s just as cute when he’s losing. If she tries to play with him as Marinette, she’s just gonna be a blushing, stammering mess and she’s gonna fail so hard.
Thankfully, she doesn’t have to worry about Adrien for long - a new concern arises. Chat shows up that night with a backpack on his shoulders. Marinette is immediately worried - he didn’t have it on patrol, what was in it?
“Hey,” she greets him. “Got a surprise?”
“Yeah,” Chat tells her. “It’s-- you don’t have to go along with it if you don’t want to, we can just have another game night if you want.”
“Come inside, and make sure to take your game when you leave tonight,” she says, instead of answering. Now she’s really worried.
Chat is visibly nervous, twisting a length of his tail between his hands as he follows her down into her room. The backpack matches his outfit; black, flat, with green outlines. He doesn’t take it off immediately, just stands there beside her bed, not meeting her eyes and tugging at his tail like a little kid with a safety blanket.
“What is it?” She prompts him.
“It’s-- uh-- here, I’ll- I’ll show you,” Chat finally says. He drops the backpack at his feet - carefully, Marinette notes with some apprehension - and opens it.
From inside the backpack he pulls a length of rustling fabric, long and flowing and green and black. He doesn’t hold it up to show her, just shuffles his feet and holds it out awkwardly.
Marinette takes it gingerly, eyes wide, and shakes it out. It’s a dress, two-layered. The bottom layer is a thicker fabric, black giving way to steep green V’s at the bottom. It’s longer in the sides, whereas the second layer is silky thin and completely black, longer in the front and back. The back of the second layer is open, and the back of the first laces up with golden straps - gold, the same color as Chat’s bell. There's also a bright green paw print over her left shoulder blade, as if to prevent anyone from thinking these colors were a coincidence.
It’s beautiful. Marinette, as a designer, can appreciate without hesitation all the thought and effort and time put into a gift like this.
“Chat,” she manages softly.
“Do - do you like it?” His tail is back between his hands, twisting nervously. “I designed it and made it myself, I was hoping you’d like it-- I - I wasn’t sure if my colors would look good, but…”
“It’s gorgeous,” Marinette tells him, her voice awed. “Chat, I love it. It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
Chat smiles, a shy thing that Marinette has never seen, as herself or as Ladybug. “I’m glad,” he says quietly.
“Here,” Marinette says suddenly, “do you want to go sit on the roof for a second? I promise I’ll be up really quick, I just need to do something.”
Chat fidgets a little at that, but nods. He leaps up and is on her roof in a moment.
It’s kind of scary, waiting after showing her that. Scary but relieving, at the same time. She liked it. Chat hadn’t been sure if she would; she seems to have enough red and black clothes to be a fan of Ladybug, but he hadn’t seen any green and black, so he’d wanted to make her something.
In fact, he was lucky his Lady hadn’t seen it when she stopped by a few nights ago. Adrien had been very careful to keep it out of sight; he didn’t want his father’s criticism on his designs, let alone all the questions that would doubtlessly be asked about why he’s making a Chat Noir-themed dress.
The trapdoor opens. Chat Noir glances over, curious as to why Marinette had him come up here.
When she steps out, the answer is obvious. She put on the dress. It comes mid-way down her shins, and trails after her like wisps of smoke following a flame.
Screw the dress, Chat thinks. Marinette is beautiful.
“How do I look, kitty?” Marinette asks him with a smile, spinning on her bare feet so he can see it flare out around her, and settle back down in gentle waves.
“Perfect,” he answers, noticing without caring about how breathless and awestruck he sounds.
“Wow, I must look really good, if you missed an op- paw -tunity to make a pun,” Marinette says, giggling softly.
Chat’s face lights up. She made a pun! She’s wearing his colors, and she’s smiling at him, and she made a pun! He’s in love with this girl.
Marinette looks at Chat curiously when he freezes. His face suddenly goes white, then slowly starts turning pinker and pinker until it looks like his entire face is coated in blush. Marinette had thought that she looked good, but definitely not good enough for him to freeze up like that.
“Chat?” She calls.
“Yes, my- princess?” He says, his voice shaking a little bit.
“I was going to ask if you’d like to dance,” Marinette says carefully. “Because, you know-- dress.”
“Sure.” Chat picks himself up slowly, expression curiously blank - cheeks still pink - and makes his way over to her.
He seems to come back when she puts on music, soft and cheerful, and takes his hands in hers.
“I don’t actually know how to dance,” Marinette tells him, when they're standing together.
“That’s okay,” Chat says. “I’ll show you, if you want.”
He guides her through the basics of the waltz, smiling at her as though he can’t stop. Marinette focuses mostly on their feet, staring down intently until she can move without stepping on his toes. She looks up, and is momentarily dazzled by his smile.
Ladybug would sooner jump off the Eiffel Tower than admit that she could ever like Chat Noir-- but right now, she isn’t Ladybug. She’s Marinette, and she can admit that Chat Noir is handsome right now, and kind, and dorky, and shy.
Marinette grins, and pulls Chat into a tight hug.
He squawks awkwardly as he’s pulled down, but he grabs onto her first for stability, then to return the hug.
Marinette smells like warmth and cookies, like rain and second chances.
Chat smiles into her hair.
Of course, they go back to dancing after that. Chat steals her phone and puts on pop songs, singing along in the most theatrical rendition he can manage, including flinging himself off Marinette’s balcony (twice). Marinette joins in for a dramatic duet, with less balcony-jumping and more hero poses.
They collapse on their backs, laughing, when Marinette does an even more dramatic mock-recreation of Chat vaulting the balcony railing which ends in her stubbing her toe and Chat bending completely in half to kiss it better without using his knees.
“Hey, kitty-cat loser,” Mari says. “Thanks for the dress.”
“Hey, princess nerd,” Chat replies. “You’re welcome.”
They lay on their backs in silence for a while, smiling up at the night sky.
“Hey, Chat,” Marinette says, quieter.
“Hey, Mari,” Chat says.
“Thanks.”
Chat is silent for a long, long while. Mari’s almost starting to worry that he’s fallen asleep when he pipes up.
“Hey.”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks to you, too.”
Marinette does fall asleep there, not long after. She wakes quickly, when Chat’s gone, to stagger back inside and stumble into bed and pass out.
She wakes to her mother yelling something about being late, and drags herself out of bed. She has enough time to shove food and cookies into her bag, tie her hair up, and book it to school.
Marinette arrives as the bell rings, in the black-green dress she’d forgotten about falling asleep in. Well, she supposes, it’s better than turning up in her pajamas like usual.
“Mari!” Alya is practically glowing at her outfit. “You look amazing, girl! Did you make that yourself?”
“No,” Marinette says, “it’s a gift.” Thankfully, the run woke her up enough to slip back into her usual I-have-definitely-never-met-Chat-Noir habits.
“I never knew you were a Chat Noir fan,” Nino says.
Marinette smiles. “He’s a huge, underappreciated dork.”
From her seat behind him, Marinette notices that the tips of Adrien’s ears are pink.
Her copy of the game is gone. Marinette practically upends her room the next time they have patrol - she wants to go visit Adrien, but she was going to bring her copy because Adrien gave his copy back to Marinette.
She remembers, suddenly, telling Chat to take it with him. Marinette groans and plants her forehead solidly on her desk.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine!” Tikki chirps. “Remember Adrien said he was going to get his own copy?”
“Right!” Marinette’s spirits suddenly rocket up; the patrol with Chat will be a good way to pass time, at least until she can go visit Adrien.
She transforms and arrives at their usual meeting spot to see Chat sitting there, waiting for her.
“Hello, Chat,” Ladybug says.
“Hello, m’lady.” Chat sounds distracted.
“What’s on your mind, alley cat?” Ladybug settles onto the rooftop beside him.
“Ladybug--” Chat starts, then cuts himself off.
He sits in silence for a few minutes. Ladybug swings her feet and tries to quell her rising impatience.
“Is it possible to be in love with two people?” He asks her eventually.
Ladybug’s feet stop moving.
“You- you love someone else?”
Duh, she chides herself. That’s what he means, you idiot. What, did you think Chat would pursue you forever?
But the weird thing is - she did think that. It had never occurred to her that Chat Noir could fall in love with someone who wasn’t Ladybug.
“Maybe,” is the quiet response. “Does that offend you, m’lady?”
“A little,” she says honestly. “She must be some girl, Chat.”
“She is,” he tells her eagerly. He sounds to happy, so sure that he loves this girl, and Ladybug hates her next words more than she’s ever hated any of Chat’s pick-up lines, any of his flirting.
“Love her, then.”
Chat stares at her.
“What?” Ladybug shrugs, not meeting his gaze. She fixes her eyes on the Eiffel Tower, as if she can draw strength from its metal cross-beams. “You deserve to be happy, Chat.”
“You make me happy too, Ladybug,” he says.
“Does this girl love you?” She asks. She doesn’t want to think about what he said. It opens too many doors.
“I don’t know,” Chat tells her honestly. “She puts up with my flirting just as much as you do, but-- she’s kind, and strong, and beautiful. She makes me laugh. I care about her, Ladybug.”
There is such raw emotion in his voice that Ladybug want to cry. Why can Chat not talk about her that way?
She knows why; it’s her fault. She’s pushed him away and away and away. She calls them partners , not friends. It was only a matter of time before civilian Chat stumbled across someone he loved even more.
“What’s her name?” Ladybug is scared to ask. The idea that Chat could fall in love with someone else is terrifying - Ladybug isn’t sure she’ll be able to curb her curiosity unless she has a name.
“Marinette,” Chat tells her. “She’s your friend, isn’t she?”
Ladybug goes still.
“My lady?” Chat peers at her with worry in his eyes. “I’m sorry, should I not have said that? I’m sorry for - for loving her, I hoped you’d be okay with it -”
“Chat,” Ladybug chokes out.
He looks stricken. “I- I’m sorry, Ladybug, please! It’s, it’s okay, I’ll stop seeing her if you want me to--”
Ladybug grabs him, digging her fingers into the leather on his shoulders. “Chat,” she says, “Marinette loves someone else.”
For a split second it doesn't feel true - how could Marinette not love Chat Noir? But at the same time, how could she not love Adrien? She loves both-- but loving Adrien means she doesn't have to face this, doesn't have to face him.
Chat's face falls, for a different reason. “Who?” He croaks out.
Ladybug pauses. Should she?
Chat has spilled his heart for her; she should at least try to do the same.
“Adrien Agreste,” she tells him.
Chat freezes. “Oh,” he says, very quietly.
“I’m - I’m sorry,” she says.
“It’s fine,” he assures her, already recovering quickly. “If you see Marinette, tell her I don’t think I’ll stop by for a week or two. I’m going to be busy.”
“Chat,” Ladybug starts, but he stands and turns away.
“Come on,” he says, “we have patrol to get to.”
He takes off before she can stop him. Chat doesn’t bring it up for the rest of the night, and Ladybug is scared to mention it.
It’s the first time Ladybug thinks she’s ever been scared.
She goes to Adrien’s house anyway, after patrol. She wants to play video games and forget about her stupidly complicated two-faced relationship with a dumb cat that she only knows one half of.
Adrien is in a weird mood when she arrives. He’s happy enough to see her, she can tell, and he smiles, but when she’s not looking, she can tell he’s thinking about something.
“Ladybug,” he finally asks her, after she kicked his ass and he sat silently, not responding. “Why did you decide to visit me?”
Ladybug’s cheeks go pink. “What do you mean?” She says.
“Why me?” He asks again.
“You’re - you’re kind, and smart, and nice,” she tells him, staring fixedly at the screen as her cursor flicks over the different character choices. “You’re a good friend.”
“Thank you,” he says quietly.
There is a long pause, broken only by the game as Ladybug hops over character icons. She finally clears her throat, speaking up because of his stillness.
“Do you want me to go?” He’s sitting in silence, eyes settled on something just past the TV screen. Ladybug isn’t sure where he is, but for once it’s not with her.
“Do you mind?” His eyes are wide and apologetic, but the thought that his mind is occupied when she’s so close is too much for her.
“No,” she tells him. “I’ll check in again in a few nights.”
“See you,” he says.
Ladybug leaves, feeling slightly morose.
The next time they patrol, it’s in moderate silence. An akuma shows up; it is dispatched quickly and efficiently, but Ladybug and Chat Noir bumble around each other a little more than usual.
Ladybug races home before her transformation ends, and collapses into bed. Marinette waits for a knock on her window or the door to the roof without realizing that she’s doing it, anticipating Chat Noir’s appearance.
Nobody knocks, but her phone pings alive with a text from Adrien.
‘Hey, Marinette?’ It reads.
‘Yeah?’ She texts back.
Normally she’d be delighted that Adrien’s reaching out, but with the text she was reminded that Chat’s not coming by tonight. Marinette already misses his stupid lines and tally scores from her victories.
‘Game night?’ Comes the response.
Marinette can’t summon up her usual energy to be happy and bubbly about it.
‘Sure,’ she writes, ‘you can bring the game to mine if you want.’
‘Five okay?’
The clock reads four thirty.
‘Yeah. See you then.’
Marinette pulls herself up, some of her energy returning. She sends a quick heads-up to Alya, informing her of the event, and goes to load up her computer. She also sends a silent thank-you to Chat for the quiet influence to get rid of Adrien’s face everywhere in her room.
Adrien is precisely punctual, game in hand. It’s in the plastic case he gave it to Marinette in; she’s fairly sure Chat Noir’s tooth-dented case is still under her desk, unless he took it with him.
“I'm sorry this is so sudden,” Adrien tells her. “I asked Alya, and she told me you weren't busy, so I thought it'd be alright.”
“No,” Marinette says, “I wasn’t.”
Her parents are working in the bakery; they hardly bat an eyelash when Marinette leads Adrien up to her room. The desktop screen is lit up and waiting, pink with a tiny green paw print for the mouse-- she’ll insist Chat Noir did it to the end of her days; Chat will neither confirm nor deny.
Adrien smiles at it as he hands the disk to Marinette and flops into Chat’s chair, set up and waiting next to her desk.
Why is it Chat’s chair? It used to just be her extra.
Marinette struggles to get the disk in; the fact that Adrien is here, playing games, because he wants to be is still a little much for her. She remembers playing against him as Ladybug, and thinking Marinette could easily beat him.
Once the disk is loaded, they don’t stay on the character select screen for long; in moments their attention is focused solely on the game. Chat’s-- Adrien’s character leaps across the screen, and Marinette’s character follows in dogged pursuit.
It becomes easy to forget that Adrien’s sitting next to her, that it’s not Chat on their usual game nights. Adrien’s better than Chat, but he plays with the same character in the same seat and he leans side to side with the motion like Chat, as if that will make him run faster.
Justice is swift as Marinette pummels Adrien into the ground and decimates him in a series of lightning-fast rounds. She cries out in victory and Adrien laughs.
The sound of his laughter is perhaps what makes her look away from the screen. She’s used to it being Chat’s laughter to her left; she supposes that Ladybug must have gotten used to Adrien’s laugh, too, but it's still eerily familiar.
He looks cute. A level of cute only Adrien could achieve, she supposes. Cute even as he hisses something through his teeth about beating her face in with his bare hands; she laughs and deals another fatal strike.
With a groan Adrien sets his controller down, the universal sign of forfeit. Marinette grins at him, wide and cocky; he looks at her with one eye, smiling faintly.
“You’ve bested me, pr-- Marinette,” he says.
The slip of the tongue is so casual Marinette manages not to hear it, covered up immediately by her own blush.
“It’s my natural talent,” she says jokingly.
He rolls his eyes. “I call cheating. You have an aimbot.”
Marinette laughs at that. “You calling me a cheater?”
Adrien grins. “I'm calling you a cheating cheater who cheats. What are you gonna do about it?”
Marinette holds up the notebook, flipped to a fresh page and marked in green pen. Her name has six tallies under it. Adrien has two.
“Guess I’m just going to have to beat you six-two,” she tells him.
Adrien meets her eyes, steely determined. “Six-three,” he says, reaching for his controller.
“Seven-two, here I come,” is Marinette’s retort.
Adrien picks her character out of spite, so she takes his. They are both immediately and wildly lost; their specials are different, their attacks are different, they can't find themselves on-screen.
They bumble around in a confused daze for three more rounds, and agree not to mark any of them.
Adrien checks his phone screen. Marinette can see over his shoulder; it’s 9:37 and he has four missed calls.
“I'd better go,” Adrien tells her, somewhat sheepishly.
Marinette is sad to see him go. He'd saved her from abandonment via one Chat Noir and played with her; that's not a debt easily repaid.
“Okay,” she says.
When he stands up, Marinette thinks for a second that he's heading towards the roof; he changes course so fast she's sure she imagined it, and he disappears from sight down the stairs.
Almost immediately, his head pops back up.
“Hey, Marinette,” Adrien says.
She looks up at him.
He gives her a wide, stunning smile, one she's seen mostly on the covers of magazines and posters.
“See you tomorrow,” he says, winks, and then he's gone.
A few weeks pass like that; on every other patrol night - and some days in between - Adrien hangs out with Marinette. Twice they go to his house; the second time, Adrien's father is controlling and overbearing, so they agree without words that Marinette's house is their permanent base.
Sometimes Marinette mistakes Adrien for Chat Noir; his laugh, his smile is so similar, it's like Chat is right there, down to his video game character. She still finds herself missing Chat, though; Ladybug looks at him and wonders how she pushed him away. She wonders if his happiness is faked, because he hasn't visited Marinette at her supposed request, yet he still seems perfectly cheerful.
On the patrol nights when Adrien doesn't go to Marinette, Ladybug goes to Adrien. After the incident with his father, she is smiling and kind, and a few times she offers to bring Adrien to a rooftop to go stargazing.
He accepts, the first time. It's romantic - almost romantic, but Ladybug can't shake the feeling that Chat belongs on the roof next to her, not some civilian. She feels guilty about it immediately-- she loves Adrien, she has to, she's under the stars with the boy of her dreams and yet she thinks about Chat Noir.
He turns the offer down the second time, and Ladybug wonders if his guilty expression is just a reflection of her own.
Ladybug is on patrol with Chat, doing her sole best not to meet his eyes as they swing their feet over the edge of the town hall, when he clears his throat and speaks up.
Her first thought is, He's going to say he's done for the night, and it sinks into her gut like a twenty-pound weight.
Instead he says, “I'm going to visit Marinette tomorrow night.” Quietly, like he's scared she'll be angry.
Instead, Ladybug has to bite her lips to hold in a smile. “Why now?” She asks.
Chat Noir makes a noise of annoyance. “I can't get near her as a civilian- I'm trying, but she's doesn't notice.”
That's not true, Ladybug thinks. She notices the right you. Chat you.
“I see,” Ladybug says, and goes quiet. Tonight's her night for visiting Adrien; she should ask him for the game that started this whole fiasco, and play it with Chat tomorrow.
“Are you angry?” Chat asks hesitantly.
Angry? No, no, she's delighted, Chat is visiting her again.
“No,” Ladybug says mildly. “You haven't seen her in ages, you should still talk to her.”
“Thank you, Ladybug.” Chat is so genuinely relieved that Ladybug is almost scared of how he thought she'd react. “Anyway, I'd best be getting home,” he says, standing and stretching languidly.
Ladybug thinks of Adrien, and says, “Yeah, I'd best be going too.”
Part of her is buzzing to go to sleep now, fast-forward through tomorrow, all the way up until Chat appears to talk to Marinette. It's her routine to visit Adrien, though, so she feels she should.
He's a little out of breath when she arrives; she wonders what he was doing, but he doesn't say.
“What's tonight?” Adrien asks instead.
“Your pick,” Ladybug tells him.
He frowns thoughtfully into the air. “Movie night,” he decides.
Ladybug settles herself across the couch, pulling one of the many blankets over her lap.
“Oh yeah-- Adrien, I was wondering if I could borrow the game we normally play? I've got some friends coming over tomorrow and it's a good multiplayer.”
“Yeah,” he says. “Sure, Ladybug.”
The way he says her name is still weird to both of them-- it's like they're dancing around the fact it isn't the right name, the fact that Ladybug belongs to the heroine of Paris, not the girl curled up on Adrien's couch.
For Adrien, this is the closest he's gotten to unmasking Ladybug. Movie nights and an awkward title; it's not much, but not so long ago he would've killed for this.
They bicker warmly over the movie; Adrien wants an action movie, something thrilling, and Ladybug wants a comedy.
In the end, they settle for something they can mutually agree on: horror. They both hate that genre with a burning passion, but it's not so bad with each other to scream beside.
The movie is longer than they expected, but the blankets are warm, and the snacks plentiful.
Ladybug takes the disk in its case, and with a quick goodbye, is out the window.
Alya is insufferable the next day.
She picks up immediately that Marinette is in a better mood than she has been for weeks; right off the bat, she starts picking reasons why.
“Adrien made a move?” Is her first guess.
“No!” Marinette shuts that idea down instantly.
“Your mom made you lunch?”
“I wish.”
Sabine’s packed lunches are legendary.
“You got feedback from a professional designer about your stuff?”
“Alya.”
Alya laughs. “Yeah, yeah. I get it, it’s a secret.”
Marinette grins and rolls her eyes. “It’s not a secret. It’s not anything.”
Alya sees the smile on Adrien’s face, and her grin becomes sly. “Sure, girl. Not anything.”
Marinette doesn’t seem to pick up on that. She spends most of school alternating between a happy daze, and foot-tapping impatience.
Marinette practically rushes home, says a warm greeting to her parents and flings herself up the flights of stairs until she gets to her room. Her bag is abandoned in the corner, and she drops to her knees and finally digs out the tooth-marked case under her desk. She tosses it on top of the clear plastic case Adrien gave her, with the disk still inside.
And now, to wait for Chat Noir.
Marinette wakes up to big green eyes above her, peering down.
Her first reaction belongs to Ladybug; she reaches up with the nearest hand and pushes them away.
Instead of flinching back, warm leather wraps around her fingers before she can touch him.
“Hello to you too, princess,” Chat tells her.
Marinette’s second reaction is entirely her.
She leaps away, squawking, her hands fluttering like injured birds as Chat watches her, bemused.
“You started stirring when I opened the trapdoor, so I let myself in,” Chat tells her. “I only managed to make it to your bed before you woke up.”
“Did you knock?” Marinette asks grumpily, flattening her hair with one hand.
Chat nods. “Twice,” he says honestly.
“Okay,” she concedes, “my fault then. I was taking a nap.” While I was waiting for you, she almost says.
Marinette pulls herself up, swinging her legs off her bed and padding towards the desktop.
“What game?” Chat asks.
“Same one you gave me,” Marinette says.
“You have your own copy?” Chat asks.
Shit. Marinette tries to come up with a plausible lie while Chat wanders towards her. “I’m borrowing it from someone,” she tells him.
Chat pulls up his chair, reaching for the remotes set aside.
“I've been practicing,” he tells her, smug grin still in place, like he's making a hilarious joke Marinette just can't understand.
“Sure you have, kitty,” she tells him fondly, rubbing one hand between his ears as she takes the chair next to him.
He rumbles under her touch like he always does, ducking his head - and still Marinette can't tell if he's ducking away or into it, so she just takes her remote when he offers it and says no more.
They start up the first round, Marinette flipping her notebook off the Adrien page and back to the familiar Chat page, where she's almost run out of space under her name.
Marinette is surprised to find that he has improved; he must have actually been practicing, then. She still beats him in the first round, but it's much closer than she's used to.
Halfway through the second round, she hears him grumble, “It’d be easier if I didn't have to wear gloves .”
Marinette smiles at that, but doesn't offer any words that would distract either of them. She knows she has the advantage here; even Ladybug struggles in latex.
Marinette wins that round, too. They have a snack and then Chat wins the round after that.
They don't talk much, mostly excited yelling at almost-victories and the occasional taunt.
Partway through the third round, Chat speaks up.
“Who'd you get the game from?” He asks Marinette.
“Adrien,” she says, hardly paying attention to the conversation. She's trying to execute a particularly difficult combo and it takes most of her attention.
Chat’s avatar stops moving, and Marinette’s character drop-kicks him off screen. He doesn't even try to avoid it; as Marinette turns to him to proclaim her victory, she stops dead.
Her words die on her tongue. Chat is looking at her like she's grown a second head, like he's never seen her before.
Instantly Marinette's brain reruns the conversation, looking for a slip-up, looking for anything out of place, but she comes up blank.
“Adrien--” Chat says, but seems to choke on his tongue and has to try again.
“Adrien gave his game to Ladybug.”
Marinette freezes. Her eyes, wide and blue, lock onto Chat’s. She's a deer in the headlights, a child caught in the act, a mouse frozen in fear before the cat.
“Marinette?” Chat’s voice sounds strange to the both of them, tinny and too far away.
Oh god, Chat knows. Marinette's brain isn't functioning, stuck like a record on that fact, repeating it on a loop.
What will he do? He knows. Why would he do anything? He knows. What if he hates her? He knows. God, Marinette is useless, pathetic, she trips and drops things and can't say a word about any of her crushes.
He knows.
Somehow, Marinette is vaguely aware she's having a panic attack.
Chat’s hand wraps around her wrist, anchoring her, and she remembers how to breathe. She gulps in air, once, twice; breathe, Chat says, so she does.
“Mari, you okay?” Chat's hands are gentle on her arms, ready to pull back at a moment's notice, ready to pull her in.
“I'm sorry,” she manages. She's so sorry, Chat, you were never supposed to know--
“Don't be,” he says. “You’re- you’re you. You’re perfect. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
Marinette doesn't believe that, it can't be true - but Chat said it, Chat accepts her, she never expected that.
“Here,” he says, pulling back a little.
Chat closes his eyes. He doesn't say a word, but beneath her desk, his feet flash green.
He's untransforming.
Marinette reaches forward, grabs Chat Noir by his stupid bell, and mashes their faces together.
She loves him like this, like anyone, and she needs him to know that no matter who he turns into, she loves him.
Chat doesn't kiss back, just sits there with his hands on her forearms as green light flashes up, sweeps over his face.
Marinette only pulls back when light fades from behind her eyelids, and hair settles differently across his forehead. The bell has turned into the collar of a shirt in her hand, pliant and soft and carrying a familiar scent.
She leans back and opens her eyes.
Adrien's face is bright pink.
“Oh,” Marinette says.
There is a lot of screaming in Marinette's room that night. Not all of it is her.
They introduce their kwamis to each other; surprisingly, it ends up being their kwamis introducing each other, Plagg presenting Adrien to Tikki, and Tikki showing Marinette off.
Marinette transforms, and Plagg eggs Adrien on until Ladybug’s Chat Noir stands tall beside her.
If anyone notices that Paris’ superheroes have one patrol night more than usual that week, they never bring it up.
If anyone notices Ladybug kissing Chat Noir, slowly and luxuriously halfway up an alley wall, they never bring it up.
In Marinette's notebook, she starts a new page for tallies. There are no names, just a ladybug and a paw print in the same column.
Alya remarks on the page once, but she doesn't notice that a new tally is added for every one of Ladybug and Chat Noir’s victories.