Archive of Our Own ^beta

It takes them half the day to get the boat ready for Juleka’s birthday party. She wants something fun and low key but also pretty. Marinette, Rose, and Mylène come early to help her and Luka sighs and rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t really mind as he drops his hoodie on a bench and joins in, helping Juleka and her small decorating crew clear the deck, hang paper lanterns and fairy lights, performing some minor miracles to get everything arranged and plugged in without blowing half the circuits on the boat. 

Marinette is there from the beginning, directing the swags of purple cloth trimmed with black lace that they’re hanging from the rails, covering strategic areas of clutter with drop cloths he’s pretty sure she sewed herself. He’s aware of her always, whether he’s looking at her or not, and he follows her directions with smiles and good humor. She beams with excitement, bouncing in place a little as it all starts to come together and his heart breaks just a little bit, like it always does in her presence, but it’s a healthy pain, the kind that reminds you that you’re alive, and he doesn’t mind it. 

Juleka’s slow smile when they’re done is worth the ache in his muscles and the fifteen minutes he spent hanging nearly upside down in the rigging to get the last string of lights just right. The girls disappear downstairs to get ready and Luka gets a break. He sits on the edge of the stage with his guitar and plays, not caring that he’s plugged in to the big amp and his music is pouring through the huge speakers over his head. They’ve turned the system down just for tonight, so they don’t deafen Juleka’s classmates, but he knows they can hear him below. He plays Juleka’s favorites, knowing she will call him a sap later. It’s her birthday, so he won’t mind.

Once the girls emerge, he goes below for a quick shower and change of clothes, just to get rid of the sweat and grime he’s accumulated during the decorating. Still, he doesn’t bother dressing up, he’s just the big brother after all and while Juleka would never exclude him, this party’s not for him. He puts on the first clean pair of jeans that come to hand and the least ripped t-shirt he can find, and retrieves his hoodie as he goes back up on deck.

Now there’s not much for him to do but hang back and watch and greet their mutual friends as they come on board.  He doesn’t know that many of Juleka’s classmates outside of the band, but they seem like good people. They mingle and eat and here and there pockets of laughter erupt, and Juleka is smiling. Marinette comes to talk to him more than once, quick, casual conversations. Luka wonders if she even realizes the way she moves through the party, connecting people, starting conversations, making sure no one feels left out—including him.

Their mother’s booming laugh announces the special-ordered Dupain-Cheng birthday cake and she stations Juleka by the table of presents. When all the other gifts are opened it’s time for his, and he sits on the edge of the stage again and plays for Juleka as he does every year. Every year the song is a little different, but it’s always full of love and pride and shared memories, and Juleka is so full of emotion when he’s done that all she can do is punch him in the arm. Later, he knows, she will hug him until his bones creak, but that can wait until her friends are gone and it’s just the two of them below decks where no one will see them be so uncool as to appreciate their sibling.

Then there’s more food and more mingling, giggling and gossip and ribbing. Anarka makes herself scarce, letting the young people enjoy themselves without even the shadow of authority hanging over them. Luka hovers on the periphery, observing. He eats some and plays his guitar some, and plays a brief set list with the rest of the band before they turn the sound system over to Nino for the rest of the night. The DJ keeps his playlist upbeat but mellow as requested. Juleka is never very demonstrative but as she moves through her friends she radiates a quiet happiness that warms his heart. Adrien arrives late, just as the sun is setting, and Luka makes an effort to watch Marinette a little less, to mingle a little more so she won’t feel she needs to tend him. The boat becomes a flickering torch on the water as darkness falls and he takes a moment listen to the music it inspires in his mind.

When he finally looks for Marinette again he finds her sitting on one of the many draped boxes lining the rail, an empty cup and plate beside her.  She’s alone for the moment but she doesn’t look lonely or depressed, just peaceful, and like the last bit of the sunset left behind in her sweet pink dress with the fairy lights over her head. He wanders over, takes her plate and cup for her, and when he returns he offers her a hand. “Dance with me, Marinette?”  

She blinks up at him for a moment, looking past him to the other guests who are clearly not dancing—and then she smiles and puts her hand in his. He leads her to an empty space on the deck, twirls her once to hear her giggle, and turns her into his arms, putting one hand on her waist and raising their joined hands to the side. Their eyes connect and she falls into rhythm easily with him as they sway in simple circles.  

“I want to tell you that you look beautiful tonight,” he tells her, speaking low to keep the words in the small space between them, “But I don’t want to disrespect all the work you did on your outfit. I mean, you’re not just a pretty girl in a pretty dress, it’s you, right? Part of your heart. And your heart has always been beautiful to me.” He’s still not sure he said what he wanted to, but he thinks she gets it, because she blushes and can’t meet his eyes but her smile is blinding.

“That’s a very Luka compliment,” she says at last, when she has regained enough composure to look at him again and speak without stuttering. 

He chuckles through his nose.  “I hope that’s a good thing.”

She hums agreement and moves a little closer. Others are joining them now and he’s selfishly pleased when her eyes only flick aside for a moment as a flash of blond slips by, Adrien and Rose giggling as he tries to teach her a simple waltz step. Luka tightens his grip on Marinette’s waist for just a moment to move her out of the way as Nino and Alya spin by with more enthusiasm than grace, and then he immediately has to move her again as Kim crashes through the impromptu dance floor on his way back to the food. She moves easily under the direction of his hands, and presses closer to him, giggling an apology as she steps on his foot. 

“That was beautiful earlier, what you played for Juleka,” Marinette says. 

“She’s grown a lot this year,” he replied. “I guess we both have, really.” 

“It’s nice that you have each other. She’s lucky to have a brother that loves her so much. Sometimes I’m jealous of her and Alya. Sometimes I think it’d be nice to have an older brother or sister to protect me.” 

Luka smiles. “You don’t need anyone to protect you, you’re doing just fine as it is, protecting yourself and everyone else too. Juleka’s big brother wasn’t the one who broke the class photo curse, for one thing.”

“No,” Marinette admits, “But Juleka’s big brother is pretty awesome anyway.” She lays her head against him, letting go of his hand to put her arms around his neck. He has to curl over her a bit so she’s not dancing on tiptoe. He takes a shaky breath and tries to hold onto his heart as he winds his arms around her waist. He treasures her trust, the comfortable way she rests in his arms, but he’s not foolish enough, or hopeful enough, or stupid enough, to believe it’s more, and that’s okay. He wants her to be happy.

He gives her up when the song is over, as Adrien pops up and brightly asks her for the next dance, clearly having a great time. Luka gets the sense he doesn’t get to go to many parties. Rose is trying to teach Juleka the steps that Adrien taught her, and Luka retreats to the rail, leaning back against it and dropping his head back to take a deep breath of cool river air. He needs a minute before he can be strong enough to watch Marinette dance with Adrien. Just a minute for himself, and then he can be happy for her.

The party doesn’t so much end as it peters out, as guests drift away. A few stay to help clean up before they drift away also. Juleka and Rose walk up toward the bow, talking quietly, and suddenly it’s just Luka and Marinette, gathering bits of trash and clutter. 

She’s wearing his hoodie against the night chill, a splash of darkness over her pale dress. They work without saying much, and he hums along to the music still playing on the sound system, happy that Juleka is happy and Marinette is near.

“Luka?”

“Hmm?” He stops what he’s doing and looks up when she doesn’t continue right away.

“Will you dance with me again?” Marinette asks shyly, and that blush and that smile and those eyes will be the death of him, he’s sure.

“I’d love to,” he says a little too honestly. He turns the music up just a bit as he walks by the stereo, and then meets her in the middle of the deck.

This time his arm around her waist pulls her close, and he holds their entwined hands over his heart as she lays her head against his shoulder. He closes his eyes and just breathes her in as their feet move in slow circles. 

“Are you cold?” He asks after a moment. There’s always a breeze on the river, and it tugs at their hair and clothes. 

“No,” she whispers. “You?” 

“I’m used to it.” He turns his head slightly, nuzzles her hair. “It’s getting late though.”

She raises her head just enough to look up at him and he realizes when he feels her breath on his lips how he’s curled over her. She’s close and she’s sweet and she’s Marinette and he wants to kiss her. His lips part to ask but then her mouth is against his and he’s not entirely sure how it happened. He thinks, from the jolt that goes through him, that she might have kissed him, but she’s clearly not sure what to do next. He tightens his arm around her and angles his face to meet her more fully and gently, slowly, moves his lips carefully over hers. He doesn’t want to scare her, doesn’t want to overstep, but she rises on her toes to pull herself closer, and he stops thinking and kisses her the way he’s always wanted to. He lets go of her hand to bury his fingers in her hair, tracing the line of her jaw with his thumb as she relaxes into his hold and melts into him. He parts from her only long enough to take a shaky breath and come back from another angle. His blood is racing in rhythm with the song her heart is singing to him and he will never, ever forget this moment, her body pressed close and her fingers flexing on his chest and the slick slide of her pink-glossed lips and the puff of her breath on his cheek. 

It ends naturally, slowing just as it built, until he’s breathing the cold river air and trying to make sense of what just happened. He’s not one for overthinking but this was not something he expected tonight.

“Luka you’re shaking,” Marinette whispers, wiping her lip gloss from his mouth with her thumb.

He meant to say “It’s cold,” but what comes out is “I love you,” and his heart stops.

She knows, of course, it’s not news, but he didn’t mean to just blurt it out like that, he’s never wanted to pressure her or put her on the spot, and unconsciously he braces for the rejection he’s forced her to voice—

But she only says quietly, “I know,” and then after a moment, “Would you like to go out with me some time?” 

For a moment he can only stare at her, and he takes her face in his shaking hands and tips it up so he can see her eyes, and he listens . Her cheeks heat under his hands but she only waits quietly, as if she knows what he is doing.

What he hears is honesty, trust, a little bit of fear, and a tiny trill of something else, waiting for the cue to crescendo. 

“Yes,” he breathes, and her smile lights up the night before he pressed his lips to hers again.