Chapter Text
Midafternoon on a weekend, quiet and content. Marinette sat in a well-worn booth at her favorite cafe, her cheek resting in one hand as she moved pencil on paper with the other.
She was in an absent-minded sort of mood. She sketched absently, only partially working on her contribution to Gabriel’s upcoming fall line. She listened absently, as her best friend--seated across from her--gushed about her latest interview with the heroes Rena Rouge and Carapace after they’d helped with an akuma the day before.
Marinette was a little less absent, there, as she smiled to herself when Alya carefully worded her gushing so as to avoid giving away the heroes identities -- or rather, her identity, and that of her boyfriend. Marinette, of course, was not supposed to know that. So she smiled only slightly and nodded in the appropriate places with her general absentmindedness.
And in the forefront of her mind, where there was the least absence, she reminisced happily on this morning’s early patrol. Or, rather, Chat’s the sky is clear and the weather is gorgeous and I shall watch the sunrise with my girlfriend from the best viewpoint in Paris.
His declaration had been met, as usual, with amused eye-rolling, but Marinette couldn’t say no to him for long.
So they’d set up atop the Tower and shared croissants and watched the sunrise, and it’d been blissful and serene and Marinette had been in a good mood ever since.
“--said Ladybug wears purple underpants with tiny butterflies on them--”
Marinette looked up very slowly from her sketchbook. “...what?”
Alya snorted. “I knew you weren’t listening. Girl, if you don’t want to hear about my job, just say so, okay? I can gush to Nino, you know.”
Marinette quickly sat up and wiped all absentmindedness off her face. “Sorry, Alya. Just lost in thought. I’m listening.”
“Mhm. And what were you thinking about so diligently? I can clearly see it wasn’t your designs.” Alya leaned over to peer at Marinette’s sketchbook, which caused Marinette to look down as well. She flushed scarlet at Alya’s low whistle at the image there -- when had she stopped working on that suit coat and started drawing Chat’s abs?!
“Ahem,” Alya whistled again. “And whoooo is that, Mms. Dupain-Cheng? I thought you weren’t seeing anyone, hmm?”
“I- I'm not!” Marinette denied, quickly shutting her sketchbook. Mon dieu, that was embarrassing. Thank goodness Chat was never going to see that or she’d never hear the end of it.
Of course, it wasn’t her fault he’d been working out more lately. Really, what was a girl supposed to do when her boyfriend was super ripped and routinely wore skintight black leather?
It was a miracle she managed to stay focused during akuma attacks, honestly.
“Mhmmmm….?” Alya clearly did not believe her.
Marinette sighed. “It’s just… uhm… one of the models at my job… he’s hot, okay? Yeesh, Alya. Will you stop laughing? Hey--”
“It’s not Adrien, is it?” Alya continued laughing. “I hear he’s gotten super ripped lately--”
“No!” Marinette glowered at her best friend and stuffed the sketchbook into her purse, irritated by how quickly she’d felt the need to deny that. She’d been dating Chat for almost five years, and they were perfectly in love. There was no reason for her to feel guilty at Alya’s mention of Adrien.
True, they were still friends and hung out a lot, and she adored Adrien, but she didn’t have a crush on him anymore. That would make her a horrible person, and she wasn’t.
She was just super close to Adrien, that was all. They got along really well, once they actually started getting to know each other.
Alya, across the table, was still laughing, clearly disbelieving Marinette’s defense. “Please, girl, anyone can see there’s chemistry between you two. He’s single, I don’t get why you haven’t just asked him out. You’re way chill enough to do it now.”
“No way,” Marinette waved her best friend off, still mired in internal denials that were making her feel increasingly guilty.
For some reason, this had been happening a lot ever since she started working at Gabriel and began spending more time with Adrien. She kept telling herself it was nothing, and doted extra on her kitty because of it.
She loved Chat. Even if she did, somewhere deep inside, still admire Adrien enough to like him that way, it was nothing compared to how much she loved her boyfriend.
Though it would be nice if she and Chat could sit on her couch and compete madly at video games the way she and Adrien sometimes did.
That, of course, was a commonplace thought and one she’d learned long ago to push aside.
Someday, was the whisper they shared in the dark, when they held each other close and wished they could do more than meet in secret, on rooftops and in places that meant nothing to either of them save seclusion.
She wanted Chat in her kitchen, so she could teach him to bake. She wanted to walk through his home and look at the pictures on his walls. She wanted to really talk about her day, and hear about his in return, without having to constantly be vague about it.
These were all familiar desires, familiar thoughts, familiar conversations they’d had.
More than once, they’d considered just giving up and revealing themselves to each other. It was becoming increasingly difficult to remember why they shouldn’t.
Then there would be akuams like the one from the day before, when Ladybug had had to call on both Rena Rouge and Carapace after she and Chat had to detransform twice and still couldn’t beat the villain.
Hawk Moth was getting stronger, and smarter with the powers he sent at them. Marinette had actually spoken to Master Fu a few months prior about the possibility of handing out a few Miraculous full times, so she wouldn’t have to keep leaving battles to get help.
It hadn’t happened yet, but it might, and the fact that they were considering it just proved how dangerous things were.
Then again, there was the nagging point Chat had brought up recently, too, in one of their late night message wars over their favorite anonymous app.
If neither of us has revealed our own identities to Hawk Moth yet, why are we so sure we’d reveal each others’ if we knew?
The thought was still dancing in her head, even though it’d been weeks since he said it and he hadn’t brought it up again.
“-lo, hello, earth to-- oh hello, are you listening to me again?” Marinette blinked slowly at Alya, who was once again laughing her butt off.
Except now Nino was beside her, grinning and picking off his girlfriend’s plate of chips. And Adrien was sitting beside Marinette, one elbow on the table and an amused look on his handsome face.
Marinette turned red and threw her hands up. “Sorry, sorry -- I’ve just had a lot… on my mind, okay?”
Alya continued laughing.
“I didn’t think you were this stressed about my father asking for your help with the main line this fall,” Adrien said, also reaching over to grab a couple chips from Alya’s plate. The reporter frowned at both men and moved her plate away from their reach, prompting pouting from Adrien and a chuckle from Nino.
“I’m…” Marinette started to deny it, because she was stressed but not that stressed. Then she realized it was the perfect excuse and shrugged. “Yeah, well, it’s a lot, you know?”
“I have faith in you, Mari,” Adrien said, grinning at her.
She grinned back, since his smile was, as always, utterly contagious. “Thanks.”
“Eh, no worries.” Adrien turned back to Nino, then, while Alya wiggled her brows across the table and Marinette shot her best friend a dark, threatening glower.
It would be nice, she reflected, if she could just tell Alya she had a boyfriend. But Alya would ask way too many questions, and she’d want to meet him or at least Skype him if Marinette said he didn’t live in Paris, and… it would be impossible.
So she was forced to endure this teasing and suggestiveness.
She snitched one of Alya’s chips herself, out of spite, and crunched into it with extreme prejudice.
“Anyway,” Alya crooned, amusement still sparkling around her bright eyes, “you guys know my sisters are in their school play this year, right?”
“Of course,” Marinette said, smiling. “You’ve only mentioned it like ten times.”
The boys chuckled and Alya shrugged, grinning. “Yeah, well, they’re trying to get into ‘method’ or whatever and they want my help. They’re supposed to play Ladybug and Chat Noir, and they said me and Nino’s roleplay was… less than satisfactory.”
“Nah, they said it sucked,” Nino corrected, grinning. “Apparently we aren’t hero material, or something.”
“Yeah, apparently.” Alya rolled her eyes, and Marinette tried not to snicker at the amused glace the two of them shared.
“So… show them a bunch of Ladyblog vids?” Adrien suggested, leaning past Marinette to snatch another of Alya’s chips. The reporter glared daggers at his hand for a moment before deflating, clearly recognizing a losing battle.
“I tried that,” she said, pulling out her phone. “But I just don’t have enough footage of the two of them, like, talking or anything. I mean, aside from that one vid Alix caught of them kissing near the Louvre--which is not going to work for my sisters, obviously--there hasn’t been much of them publicly outside akuma fights these last few years.”
Marinette shrugged. “Well, after that whole pregnancy fiasco, I can see why.” She was still irritated by that and it’d been over two years. Just because some idiot happened to suggest he’d spotted the heroes sans clothes--needless to say, she and Chat had been much more careful since then--didn’t mean Ladybug was automatically having kittens!
Ugh.
Alya winced sympathetically, and Marinette felt slightly better.
“Anyway, I’ve been taking vids of all the couples I know roleplaying them for the twins,” the reporter finished, shrugging. “I got Ivan and Mylene, Rose and Juleka, Sean and Marien from the office and like two or three others, but so far… no dice. So,” she grinned brightly at Adrien and Marinette, “it’s your turn.”
For a moment, there was awkward silence. Then Adrien laughed a little and said, “Yeah, but we’re not dating, Al.”
“No,” Marinette agreed, frowning.
“I mean, no offense,” Adrien continued, glancing at Marinette. “You’re totally awesome, Mari, and I totally love you, but, you know…”
“Yeah,” she agreed, not looking at him. “Exactly.”
Alya looked between them while Nino buried his face in his phone, clearly staying out of it. Thankfully the reporter did not mention that both her friends were a bit red in the face, or that neither of them sounded very convincing, or that her chemistry vibe was going off again.
She just shrugged, amused, and said, “Yeah, well, you’re my last ditch. I’m not asking you to kiss or anything. Just throw something out for the twins.”
Again, a heartbeat of awkward silence.
Then Marinette sighed and brushed a strand of hair behind one ear. “Okaaay…” She glanced at Adrien, not at all comfortable with the idea of playing herself with her high school crush.
Not only could that lead to too many questions from Alya--after all, how could Marinette not do well, she was Ladybug--it would just be awkward in general.
Adrien, for his part, rubbed at his neck. “I don’t know, Chat Noir’s kind of… out of my league, don’t you think?”
Marinette couldn’t help but snort. “Please, Adrien, don’t joke. You’re probably equally famous.”
Adrien laughed. “Okay, maybe, but I’m not a superhero, you know? My vibe is way more classy than that stray cat’s.”
“He’s not a stray.” For a moment, Marinette didn’t recognize her own voice, as it was one that was generally reserved for Ladybug. “Ladybug would get nowhere without him. He’s her partner, equally, and I don’t get why so many people--”
“Woah, woah,” Adrien soothed, holding up his hands. There was a strange light in his eyes as he smiled at her. “I didn’t mean anything bad; the cat pulls his weight, I agree. Sorry.”
Marinette huffed out a breath. “Sorry too.”
“Okay kids, that was adorable, now it’s go time,” Alya crowed. And Marinette realized the camera was on.
Great.
“Uh…” At least Adrien also seemed at a loss. But if Marinette didn’t do something soon, he was going to drop a pun--he shared that particular affinity with her boyfriend--and she was going to be stuck.
So Marinette blew out a breath, tossed her head, and gave Alya’s phone the most Chat-like grin she could muster. “Hey, Ladybloggers,” she purred, leaning forward with a wink. “Your favourrite chat here, ready for his interview.” She leaned back and tossed her hair again, smirking broadly. “We totally kicked that last akuma’s can, right M’lady?” Then she turned that smirk on Adrien, who had the most adorably dumbfounded look on his face she’d ever seen.
Then he grinned. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, kitty,” he said, leaning back against the cushion with a casual air. He reached over, like it was nothing, and scritched underneath Marinette’s chin. “We had help.” He looked at the camera then, dead serious behind a smile. “We couldn’t have done it without Rena Rouge and Carapace, so they definitely deserve a shout out.”
Wow. He was… good.
Marinette grinned right back at the camera. “Pawsitively, those two are the cat’s meow.” She winked again and made a point of leaning against Adrien’s arm. “Of course, they’re nothing compurred to my lovely bugaboo~”
“Not now, kitty,” Adrien scolded, prodding her nose lightly. His eyes glimmered with amusement, and his small smirk was… wicked. “Later.”
Marinette was struck for a moment and had to clear her throat, quickly looking away from his eyes, because -- wow, that wasn’t fair, okay--
“And that’s a wrap!” Alya threw up her hands, phone included, and grinned at them. “Okay, that was amazing!”
Marinette and Adrien quickly looked away from each other, rubbing their necks and laughing at the entire thing.
Because it was funny.
Somehow, hours later, lying in bed and messaging her kitty--not Adrien’s--Marinette still couldn’t quite see how it was funny.
And it was even less funny when, the next day, Alya informed them that the twins loved their performance so much they’d watched the video over and over all night and were planning on using the actual dialogue somehow.
Marinette had no reason to feel guilty.
None at all.
So why, by all the cats in the city, did she?
The feeling persisted for far longer than she’d have liked. Far longer than she’d ever admit.
Actually, in all likelihood… it never went away.
The feeling grew at the strangest times. At work, while going over her design ideas with the coordinator, when Adrien strolled in wearing one of his designer suits and talking seriously with Nathalie about something. She found herself noticing how broad his shoulders had gotten. How light his eyes were.
It grew, too, at later times. In her apartment, when Adrien dropped by with some files she’d forgotten and happened to stay for dinner and games. Or out with Alya and the girls, drinking martinis and having fun, when a stray fantasy popped into her head that was not about her kitty.
The vague feeling of guilt turned to all out shame after that. Once it could no longer be denied.
She was a horrible, horrible person.
It grew so bad that Chat noticed. And though she played it off at first, she could never hide anything from him for long.
So they sat, their legs dangling off the edge of one of their favorite rooftops, their fingers intertwined.
“What’s wrong, Bugaboo?” he asked, quietly and sincerely in that way that made her heart melt.
Shame welled in her throat and she didn’t want to tell him, but he looked at her with such kind eyes that she did, anyway.
“I… I’m so awful, Chaton,” she whispered. “I’ve been… thinking about someone else.”
She didn’t have to specify the logistics. He knew her well enough to get it. And she felt his fingers tighten around hers in understanding.
“I’m sorry--” she began, looking up at him, desperate to make him understand that it was meaningless--
But he leaned his forehead against hers. “It’s okay.”
It wasn’t. But she swallowed her words.
He sighed, heavy, burdened, the kind of sigh she hated to hear him make. “Honestly… I’m kind of in the same boat.”
For a heartbeat, she just stared at him, his face so close, lashes against the leather of his mask and lids shut against the full moon’s light.
Then he added, “It’s hard. To… not be able to spend time with each other normally.”
For another heartbeat, Marinette’s head was full of jealous thoughts and sadness. And then she sighed, and leaned against him, and nodded once.
“It is.”
“I haven’t done anything--” Chat began, turning his head toward hers again. “I would never hurt you like that--”
“I know.” She lifted a hand to press against his cheek, smiling. “Me neither. I would never. I love you.”
“I love you too,” he said, nuzzling her hair. “And I trust you.”
It was freeing, that conversation. Those words. She knew he did, and she trusted him, too, but… in that context, it was warmth in her chest and a smile on her face and the strength to keep going. To ignore any lingering thoughts of Adrien and focus on what was most important.
And she knew, wherever he was, her Chaton was doing the same.