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“Dude, you know this really isn’t necessary.”
“Dude, yes, it really is.” Nino dropped into the plush couch in the living room of Adrien’s new apartment with enough force to send it sliding back several inches. “You have literally never had a party. Now that you have your own place, it’s my sacred bro duty to throw you a party.”
Adrien laughed, and let himself fall into the opposite corner of the couch, propping his feet up on Nino’s thigh. “Who’s going to come? You’re the only one I’ve kept in touch with from Lycée, and I haven’t met anyone outside the industry since.”
Nino grinned almost evilly. “Hey man, have a little faith. I got you.”
“Oh, man. I know that look. That’s an Alya look. What are you planning?”
“No way. This party is going to be epic, and I am not going to spoil any of it for you. Just give me the info on anyone you want to invite from ‘the industry’, and make sure you have this place party-ready by Saturday, and I’ll take care of the rest.”
Adrien’s eyes bugged. “This Saturday? Nino, I haven’t even finished unpacking!”
“Well then, I guess you better get busy.”
Marinette dialed Nino’s number as she walked up the hall to her door, and he answered as she was turning her key in the lock.
“Yo, Nettie!”
“Hey, Nino.” She walked into her apartment, and dropped her keys on the counter. “Alya said you wanted to talk to me?”
“Yeah. Do you have a gig yet this Saturday?”
“No, but I was thinking of going in to the club. Why?” She pulled a glass out of her cabinet, and an open bottle of wine from the fridge.
“Perfect! Don’t go in to the club. I’ve got a gig for you.”
She poured herself a generous glass of wine, replaced the cork, and put it back in the fridge. “The last time I did a gig for you, I ended up missing Mylène’s bachelorette party, and getting drunk with the guys.”
“Don’t worry Nettie, you’re not going to miss out on anything. I just need you to show up to Adrien’s party a little late.”
Marinette choked, spraying wine all over her kitchen. “Adrien Agreste? The Adrien that I was in love with all through Lycée, but could never hold a conversation with? That Adrien?”
He laughed. “Yeah, that’s the one. Dude’s got an apartment all to himself now, and I’m throwing him a housewarming party.”
“Damnit Nino, a little warning would have been nice. You’re lucky I prefer to drink whites…” Another thought occurred to her and she paused in wiping wine from the cabinets. “So when you say ‘gig’, you mean that you just want me to come to this party, right? As a guest?”
“Er, no, actually. I want you to dance at the party, and then stick around to mingle as a guest.”
“Nino—”
“Oh, and I want you to bring one of the guys from the club, to work with you.”
“Nino, no. You know I hate mixing business and pleasure.”
“Oh come on, Nettie. It’s not like you haven’t done it before.”
“Yeah, at the club.”
“Marinette, please?” Nino begged, his tone wheedling, and Marinette groaned. “It’s the dude’s first party ever, which is ridiculous because he’s like 24, but that’s all the more reason to make sure it’s next level.”
Marinette sighed in resignation. “Fine. I’ll do it. But if I choke in front of Adrien and die of embarrassment, I am going to spend eternity haunting you.”
Nino whooped on the other end of the line, and Marinette pulled the phone away from her ear, wincing. “You’re the best, Nettie!”
She sighed again, shaking her head. Why could she never say no to her friends?? “Yeah, yeah. Don’t you forget it.”
Adrien needn’t have worried about having his place ready in time. He really didn’t have too much to unpack to begin with, since he’d only needed to move the things that he wanted to bring with him from his room. The rest had all been purchased new, and installed in the loft apartment before he’d taken up residence. He’d finished arranging everything to his satisfaction by the middle of the week, and his cleaning service came by on Friday to tidy up.
Not that there was much for them to do; Adrien wasn’t a messy person, after all. But if he was going to have a house full of people, people he liked but hadn’t seen in several years, he wanted it to be perfect.
Nino came over late Saturday morning to set up his DJ equipment. Adrien had tried to talk him into hiring someone else, so that Nino wouldn’t have an excuse to abandon him could enjoy the party too, but Nino would hear none of it. “I don’t trust anyone else to do it right,” he’d said. Adrien knew his friend well enough to recognize a solid wall when he saw one, and let it go.
By seven, the food had been delivered and set up on the large island in the kitchen, and a generous selection of alcohol had been set up on the counter opposite the food. It was early, but Adrien was dressed and as ready as he could be, in a pair of dark grey slacks, a white dress shirt, suit jacket and tie.
By seven thirty, Nino had returned with Alya, and as soon as he opened the door, he gaped at them in dismay.
Nino was also wearing a white dress shirt, but he’d skipped a tie, left it open at the throat, cuffed the sleeves, and paired it with jeans and classic Converse. Alya wore a sleeveless, backless cowl-neck halter top in a deep burgundy color, with tight black pants and sparkly black heels.
He’d dressed for a cocktail party; they’d dressed for a club.
Merde.
Adrien pulled them in, instructed them to get the door if anyone showed up, and disappeared into his room to change.
By eight, Adrien had reemerged with a new ensemble, a few others had arrived and Nino had the music going.
By nine, Adrien’s loft apartment was full to bursting with old friends as well as a few new ones. People were eating, drinking, chatting, drinking, dancing and—drinking. Adrien had been circling through the apartment, mingling with his guests, and had made it all the way back around to the kitchen where Alya and Nino stood talking with an Agreste intern named Bridgette.
“Good call, Agreste,” Alya said, eyeing him up and down with a smirk. She shifted her gaze to Bridgette. “Golden Boy here looked like he was headed to a boring office party when we first got here.”
Adrien rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously as Bidgette laughed. “I wasn’t really sure what I was dressing for. Nino just said ‘dress to impress’ and that’s all I had to go on.”
“Well, you’re definitely dressed to impress now, dude.”
The second time around, he’d chosen dark-colored jeans and a black button-down with the top few buttons undone, and the sleeves cuffed to the elbow. Even better, he’d traded in his dress shoes for his favorite pair of black boots—the ones that were almost identical to Chat Noir’s, but not as comfortable. He smoothed a hand down his stomach, chuckling uncomfortably and casting about for a change of subject.
“So, uh, are you still friends with Marinette? I haven’t seen her here tonight.”
“Ah, she said she’d stop by.” Nino said vaguely, sharing a charged glance Alya. Alya busied herself with her glass of wine. “She should be here soon, actually.”
“Yeah? I haven’t seen her in years. How has she—”
He was interrupted by the door bell, and Nino and Alya shared another look. Adrien frowned at them for a moment, watching as Nino made his way from the kitchen and toward his music set up. With a shrug he went to answer the door.
It took a bit to get through the clustered people to the door, and the bell rang again, more insistently this time. “Sorry, I’m coming,” he called as he reached for the knob. But when he got it open, he saw what looked like two contractors in navy-blue coveralls standing on his door step and he froze in confusion. What kind of contractors work after nine o’clock at night, on a Saturday?
One, the man, was tall and slender, with angular features and pale blonde hair. The other was a petite woman with blue-black hair pulled into shoulder-length pigtails. The woman looked up from her clipboard to meet his eyes, and he felt the shock of recognition jolt through him.
“Marinette?”
She raised her eyebrows in question, but he saw no recognition on her face. “Mr. Agreste, apartment 300?”
“Yeah, I’m—” He cut himself off, and shook his head in confusion. “Marinette, don’t you recognize me?”
She hugged the clip board to her chest with a carefully polite expression on her face. “I’m sorry sir, I’m just here to take care of the problem with your apartment.”
“What are you talking about? There’s no problem—”
The man behind her cleared his throat and stepped closer to her, and lifted a large tool box. “May we come in? These aren’t getting any lighter.”
Thoroughly bewildered, he stepped back out of the way and watched as the pair made their way into the apartment. As they walked by, Kim glanced over and saw Marinette and let out a loud whoop.
“Oh, shiiiit, Marinette is here!” Kim called, and there were several answering calls and whistles from around the apartment.
“Nino, you dog!” Alix yelled, grinning. “You didn’t tell us that Mari would be working tonight!”
Adrien saw the corner of her mouth kick up in a muted smile, but otherwise, she didn’t respond to the excitement. The pair walked to his coffee table, which he saw had been pushed against the far wall, and set their things down.
He found Nino standing at his laptop, a shit-eating grin on his face, and he stalked over to hiss in Nino’s ear. “Would you mind telling me what the fuck is going on?”
“Hey man, relax. Nettie’s just going to help up crank the party up another notch—or twelve.”
“What does that even mean?”
Nino inclined his head toward the room behind Adrien, still grinning. “Just get your ass over there and enjoy it, man.”
Adrien turned and saw that his couch had also been pushed back, and two of his dining chairs had been pulled away from the table and set into opposite ends of the living room, facing each other.
Marinette and the guy she’d brought with her were both still near the coffee table, but they’d been busy pulling things out of that tool box. Both of them now sported clear protective glasses on their faces, and tool belts slung around their hips. Marinette held a large sledge hammer; he held a large yellow tape measure. As he watched, Marinette nodded to Nino, and the intro to a new song came rolling through the apartment. It was a poppy, upbeat song that he recognized, but didn’t really know.
Marinette walked to the middle of the living room with that hammer slung over her shoulder and the blond stalked after her, their bodies in perfect sync with one another and the music. As a feminine voice began to sing Marinette dropped the hammer head-down on the floor and bent at the waist to rest her crossed arms on the handle, and the blonde came right up behind her and put his hands on her back as they began to grind on one another, lip-syncing to the music.
The apartment filled with more hoots and whistles, but Adrien just blinked in surprise. What?
Marinette rolled her body up and gripped the top of the hammer in both hands, then dropped her ass down to her heels with her knees spread wide on either side of the hammer, and bounced. Behind her, the blonde had extended the tape measure and held one end in each hand. He put it beneath her chin and she stood up, rubbing her ass against him the whole way up. Then she flicked the tape measure away from her face, spun around, and grabbed the sleeves of his cover-alls. They tore away easily, revealing a pair of incredibly well-toned arms.
Adrien felt his jaw drop. Marinette was a…stripper?
The blonde retaliated by ripping open her coveralls, revealing a tight cropped top with cap sleeves in the same color as the coveralls.
Yup, definitely a stripper.
They continued to dance provocatively, with him pulling the coveralls down over her arms and then ripping the tear-away top from the waist band. He tossed it into the crowd to more cheers.
Now Marinette danced in the tight crop-top, with the baggy blue pants and the tool belt still around her waist. Sweat glistened on her exposed stomach and over the swells of her breasts, and Adrien gulped. Had she always been so…ripped?
The pair split up, each rolling their bodies as they danced around, interacting with the people gathered around to watch. The room was in an uproar, with all the people yelling and cheering on the dancers. The guy approached Mylène on the other side and ripped open his own coveralls while gyrating against her, and she laughed delightedly even as her face flushed red. He dropped the shirt on the ground, and moved on to tease another target.
On this side, Marinette unhooked her tool belt as she approached Max and slung it around his hips to pull him flush against her, and she grinned at him playfully as she rolled her hips against him. He danced with her, but as soon as he moved his hands to her hips, she wiggled away, shaking her finger at him, and tossed the tool belt away. He grinned, shrugging, and Marinette turned next to Alya.
The two women immediately started dancing intimately together, and Adrien got the impression that this was not the first time that they’d done it. Marinette took Alya’s drink from her and drained it, then tipped her safety glasses up to kiss Alya full on the mouth. The whole room erupted in cheers, and Adrien gaped at them, wondering if he’d ever known Marinette at all. She broke the kiss with a wink for Alya, and then she turned her intense blue gaze on him.
She smiled at him and hesitated, just for the barest moment, and then she pressed herself fully against him, with her arms draped over his shoulders. “Hey hot stuff,” she said, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Wanna come dance with me?”
He nodded dumbly, and she grabbed him by the shoulder and began dancing backward, pulling him along with her. The music changed again, this time to a song that he hadn’t heard in a really long time…was that Usher? She guided him to the chair on this side of the room and pushed him into it, tossing her safety glasses away entirely; he saw the blond on the other side doing the same with Bridgette.
After that, his focus was caught entirely by Marinette. He sat rigid, with his hands clamped on the seat of his chair with a white-knuckled grip as she began giving him a lap dance, rolling and twisting and thrusting over and on and against him. His face absolutely burned, and he knew he must be blushing like mad. She slid off of him with her planted feet wide on the floor and bent at the waist, giving him an up-close view of her well-rounded derriere. Then she winked back over her shoulder at him and ripped her pants off in one fluid motion as she stood. He had only a moment to appreciate that derriere in skin-tight navy blue boy shorts before she was prancing away from him in knee-high combat boots with stiletto heels. He saw Bridgette gazing at her, wide-eyed, and then his view was blocked.
Apparently, Blondie had been mirroring her actions at the other end of the living room, because as Marinette walked away from him, the tall blonde approached him. He arched a pale blond brow, as if asking permission, and Adrien jerked his chin down in a choppy nod. And so Adrien received his second lap dance of the evening, this time from the lean but well-muscled blond who’d come to work with Marinette. He enjoyed it—much more than he expected to. Still, he was glad when the two dancers traded places once again, pausing in the middle to execute another segment of choreographed dance.
They split apart again when the music changed for a third time, to another song that Adrien recognized, but couldn’t place. Again, it was upbeat and poppy, with female vocals. As it transitioned, Nino turned the music down slightly so that Marinette could speak.
“So who wants to see if our lovely volunteers want to try turning the tables on us?” She called out, grinning when the gathered party-goers cheered. “What do you say, Adrien? What to trade places with me?”
Adrien blinked, and felt himself flush all over again. “Me?”
She smiled, but her expression was full of challenge. “You think you can’t handle it, eh, pretty boy? I guess I’ll have to find someone else.”
Adrien felt a bit of his Chat Noir bubble to the surface, and he grinned back at her. “Like hell you will.” He stood, and gestured to the chair with a flourish.
She set a knee on the chair, but didn’t sit. “All right, our host is game,” she cried, and the group went nuts. When they’d settled a bit, she continued. “What about your volunteer, Felix? Is she game?”
Bridgette nodded shyly, and everyone went nuts again.
“Alright folks, here we go!!” Marinette sat in her chair and smirked up at Adrien. “All right, hot stuff. What ya got?”
Still pulling on his Chat Noir savoir faire, Adrien smirked right back at her as he stepped close and started to swivel his hips in front of her. His hands went for the buttons on his shirt, but at the last second, he decided to just rip it open instead. The buttons went flying, and he straddled Marinette’s lap as he worked the ruined shirt down his arms, completely oblivious to the raucous yells and whistles filling his apartment. Marinette’s eyes had gone comically wide as they roved over his bare chest, her full bottom lip pulled between her teeth. He wasn’t as tall as her partner, but his shoulders were wider and he had more muscle—most of it gained from pole-vaulting around Paris, chasing after akuma. He smirked down at her as he writhed over her lap, until he realized that all of the teasing had drained away from her expression, leaving pure want in its wake.
Adrien faltered, fighting an inclination to kiss her. Instead of doing that, he stood abruptly with a hand on her head, and thrust his hips forward towards her face, just as Blondie—Felix?—had done to him a few minutes earlier. The crowd went crazy, and with a grin for them, he spun around to continue with his back to Marinette, thinking that it would be safer. He flinched when he felt her hand at the nape of his neck, but he didn’t stop. Her fingers slid up his neck and into his hair, then curled into a fist, tugging his head back. She didn’t hold him there, though. She released him almost immediately and her hand slid all the way down his spine before smacking his ass, hard. He stepped away from her in surprise, and she stood to address the group.
“Who else wants to dance,” she called, and everyone cheered. “Let’s get this party going!” She nodded again to Nino, and the music slid back into the dance mix that he’d had on earlier. Alya jumped into the middle of the room, dancing enthusiastically, and everyone else followed suit, crowding into the living room-turned-dance-floor until they were all laughing and dancing around him with far more abandon than they had been earlier.
He felt a pair of slim hands at his waist, and looked down at Marinette with a smile as he started dancing with her. “So,” he began, pulling her closer. “I guess a lot has changed in the last 6 years, huh?”