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Chapter Text

“And how did that make you feel?” Doctor Katsuragi inquired as she scribbled in shorthand onto her notepad.

“Annoyed,” Adrien grumbled, squeezing and releasing the Asterix stress ball rhythmically as he sat with his legs draped over the arm of the wingback chair, staring sightlessly out the window. “…Kind of like when you ask me how things make me feel.”

“Hm. It sounds like you’re going to be annoyed throughout most of our session today,” she observed neutrally without looking up from her notes. “Since today is the anniversary, I was planning on evaluating your progress again. This necessitates much discussion of your feelings.”

“Joy,” Adrien sighed. “…Do we have to do this?”

“That depends. What do you want to get out of these sessions, Adrien?” She eyed him expectantly over the top of her pad.

Adrien looked down at the stress ball. “I want…you to tell me what I need to do to get better. I don’t want to waste time talking about how things made me feel or having you ask me what I think about things. You’re the professional; I want you to tell me what you think. I want…something concrete that’s going to actually help,” he replied softly yet bitterly.

Doctor Katsuragi hummed thoughtfully, tapping her pen against her lips. “Well, we’ve discussed coping strategies…mindfulness, delaying, distraction, visualization, channel surfing, monitoring negative self-talk—”

“—Those don’t do anything,” Adrien sighed in frustration, looking up with pleading eyes.

“Because you don’t give them the opportunity to work,” Katsuragi explained patiently.

“Yes. I do,” Adrien argued, his irritation leaking into his voice. “Whenever I feel myself slipping, whenever I feel an attack coming on, I always try the techniques that you taught me, but none of them ever work!”

She shook her head. “Because you wait until you’re in crisis to try to use them. You don’t practice when you’re calm or when the stakes are lower, but then you just expect to be able to whip out mindfulness techniques when you’re in the middle of a panic attack,” she countered softly yet firmly. “The coping strategies don’t work like Chat Noir’s powers, Adrien. It’s not like summoning a Cataclysm where you just call up Mindfulness and you’re able to use it automatically. These are skills you need to cultivate like how you learned to play piano or fence.”

Adrien dropped his gaze into his lap, suitably chastened.

“It’s okay, Adrien,” Doctor Katsuragi assured gently. “Just keep trying. You’ll get it eventually. You have plenty of time.”

He shook his head, replying mournfully, “It doesn’t feel like it. It feels like when you’re taking a test, and it’s really hard, but everyone else in the class has already gotten up and left because it wasn’t so hard for them, and you’re just stupid…. That’s every test I’ve ever taken for my Business degree. I’m thinking about dropping out. I obviously suck at this. Gabriel is tanking anyway due to public opinion, and I couldn’t save it even if I didn’t suck at Business. I suck at Business. I suck at mental health. Like, do your other patients suck at therapy as much as I do?”

He looked at her expectantly.

“Adrien, I want you to think about what you’re thinking and saying right now. Can you identify any possible unhelpful thoughts you may be having?” Katsuragi coached.

“I’m just being realistic,” Adrien retorted, sick of playing her game. He wanted a reaction. “I’m wasting money on a degree I’m never going to use for a company I’m not going to be able to salvage for a father who’s not going to come back from the grave just to tell me how proud he is of me or how he really did love me after all,” Adrien choked, letting the tears fall. “And I’m wasting my money and my time and your time with these stupid counseling sessions because I’m not getting any better. I can’t get any better. I’m just…” He shook his head. “…defective.”

“Adrien, I want you to stop and evaluate your self-talk,” Katsuragi instructed, not involving herself in his downward spiral but doing her best to help him stop it.

“No. Seriously.” He smiled resentfully as the tears leaked down his cheeks. “I feel like I’m drowning. Why don’t you ever help? Isn’t that why I’m paying you? Aren’t you supposed to care about me? Isn’t that why I’m here? So that you can fix me? All you ever do is sit there and scribble gibberish onto that legal pad and ask me what I’m thinking and feeling. You never do anything to help. You never tell me what I’m supposed to be doing.”

Doctor Katsuragi took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She pinched the bridge of her nose and took another long inhale. “Okay. You’re obviously frustrated, and I think that’s because you appear to have some misconceptions about what this—therapy, these meetings, my role—is.”

She set her notepad aside and leaned forward, placing her forearms on her knees, leveling her gaze at Adrien. “You are not paying for someone to care about you. As a professional, I am not your friend. I am not a surrogate parent figure. I am here to guide you through this. It is not my job to fix you, Adrien. You fix you. You are the one who has to put in the time and the effort to make you better. My job is to provide you with tools and a safe space to process what you’re going through. I am a facilitator. I know that this is not what you want to hear, but you’re going to get better a lot faster once you start having realistic expectations. I am here to help you, Adrien, but I can’t do the work for you.”

Adrien gave the Asterix stress ball a punishing squeeze, crushing the comic star. “…Oh,” he breathed.

Doctor Katsuragi let him sit with that for a minute. “…You want me to be honest with you and tell you what you need to do to get better?”

Adrien nodded, still looking down at his hands.

“I believe that you possibly have three problems that might be holding you back. They all have to do with changing your frame of mind, the way that you think. Do you want me to tell you what those three problems are?” she offered, waiting until he was ready to hear what she had to say.

There was a long, empty silence where the heating vent buzzed and the normally unremarked wall clock loudly ticked away the seconds.

Finally, Adrien nodded. “Yes, please.”

“All right,” Katsuragi sighed, gathering her thoughts. “It seems to me, Adrien, that you’re holding yourself back on purpose.”

Adrien began to break in with a protest, but Doctor Katsuragi held up a hand.

“Hear me out, please,” she requested. “It seems to me that you still blame yourself for the accident.”

Adrien opened his mouth again, but Katsuragi raised her hand higher. “Could it be that there’s a part of you that thinks that you don’t deserve to get better? Is it possible that you’re subconsciously self-sabotaging or not giving it your all because you believe you need to be punished for your father’s death?”

She lowered her hand and looked at him intently.

“You’re way off base,” Adrien snorted as soon as he was permitted to speak. “Those two things have nothing to do with each other.” He swung his legs around to the front of the chair, turning to face her straight on. “It’s like…like…what Nino says. Correlation does not equal causation. Just because the murder rate goes up in the summer along with the consumption of ice cream, that does not mean that the consumption of ice cream leads to people killing each other. Just because I’m not progressing in my therapy and I killed my father, that does not mean that I’m not progressing in my therapy because I killed my father.”

Adrien paused, mentally reevaluated his argument, and frowned. “That sounded better in my head. Anyway. I’m trying to say that…no. I’m not sabotaging myself. Yes, I blame myself, but, no, I’m not purposely screwing up my therapy because of it. Why would I do that? I’ve been soul-crushingly miserable this past year. I want to get better,” he insisted.

Doctor Katsuragi pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Do you think you deserve to get better and find happiness?”

Adrien bit his lip. He set down the stress ball and picked up the Rubik’s cube from the coffee table between them. “I want to get well and be happy,” he answered in a small voice.

“Yes, but do you deserve that?” she pressed.

Adrien turned the different layers of the cube absentmindedly more for the sake of doing something with his hands than in an attempt to solve the puzzle. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I deserve.”

“Okay.” She nodded, leaving it at that.

“…It was my fault,” Adrien mumbled.

Katsuragi took a deep, calming breath, preparing herself to have The Disagreement again. “No, Adrien, it was not. You didn’t push him. You didn’t make him fall. You were standing over three meters away. It wasn’t your fault; he just fell. I know it’s very difficult for you, but I need you to try to accept this and internalize that the accident was not your fault. It was just an accident.”

Adrien gulped, trying to keep the upwelling of emotions down. “I know it was an accident. I know I didn’t actually kill him,” he tried to explain. “I know Ladybug and I had him cornered, but he could have just surrendered. I know he’s the one who detransformed and stood on the railing…but he was bluffing. He never intended to jump. He wouldn’t…but I…I wasn’t thinking. He detransformed, and I saw it was him, and I said, ‘Father?’, and that startled him…and he said my name…and he fell.”

Adrien pulled his knees into his chest, letting the Rubik’s cube drop to the floor as he curled up into a ball, resting his forehead on his knees. “And if I hadn’t been such an idiot, I would have realized what was happening sooner and I could have reacted faster. I could have caught him. If I hadn’t just blown my secret identity, if Ladybug hadn’t been in shock over it, she could have saved him. She could have caught him, but…” Adrien’s voice cracked as the tears started to fall again. “But I messed up. I messed up so bad, and she was staring at me in horror. She was staring at me. I saw the video. She was staring at me, and she didn’t see him fall. I distracted her, and she couldn’t react in time. She caught me when I jumped after him, but she couldn’t save him. If I had just—”

“—Adrien,” Doctor Katsuragi interrupted the familiar spiral. “You can’t keep doing this. It is not helpful to keep replaying the scene over and over and agonizing over what you think you did wrong or what you wish you had done differently. Now is the time when you need to use your coping strategies to come down off of the Eiffel Tower and return to the present moment. Can you do that?”

Adrien was silent for a little over a full minute, but Katsuragi watched as he slowly uncurled from his defensive ball in stages, eventually slumping back in his chair and looking up at her.

“Sorry,” he whispered, grabbing tissues from the coffee table and scooping the Rubik’s cube up off of the floor.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” she informed gently. “You did a good job bringing yourself out of that spiral. You should be proud.”

Adrien grimaced. “I’m not sure I know how to be proud in the sense you mean. I’ve only ever had experience with pride in the sense of haughtiness.”

Katsuragi acknowledged the half-joke with a nod of her head, but she didn’t encourage further discussion on the topic. “…Shall we move on to the next problem that I believe I have identified concerning obstacles in the way of your progress, Adrien?”

Adrien gave a tired nod of assent, bracing himself for the next volley of explanations about what he was doing wrong.

“From what you’ve shared with me, it seems as if, up until a year ago, you didn’t have much autonomy. I remember when you first came to me, you didn’t know what to do with yourself because your stepmother was no longer there to give you your schedule for the day, and you didn’t know how to live unscheduled. Other people were in control of your life. You lived mainly looking to others for instruction, letting them dictate what you should be doing and how you should be doing it. You lived in order to live up to their expectations…whether that was your mother or your father or even Ladybug. Would you say that was an accurate description of how things were?”

Adrien fidgeted in his seat, drawing his legs up underneath himself, hands absentmindedly playing with the Rubik’s cube. “That’s…sort of accurate. I feel like I had more agency than that, but…making other people happy and living up to their expectations of me…that sounds right. That was kind of the major goal.”

“May I ask you what the major goal is now?” she inquired neutrally.

Adrien blew out a long breath. “Right now? Honestly, just survive. Not be such a drain on everyone. Not make Luka and Nino hate me.”

“You think they could hate you?” Katsuragi prompted.

Adrien shrugged. “I worry about it. I mean…how much longer can I expect them to take so much time out of their lives to keep me functioning? How much longer until they get tired of me not having myself together and start to resent me? They do have lives, you know. School…work…other friends. They have girlfriends whom they’re neglecting for me.”

“Now, is that something you know for a fact? Is that something they’ve told you, or is this something that you’re deciding?” she encouraged him to dig deeper.

Adrien shook his head, fiddling with the Rubik’s cube, close to getting one side all green. “Every night that I sleep over is a night they’re not spending with their girlfriends. No one’s said anything—well, Alya calls me ‘the other woman’ in her and Nino’s relationship, but she’s sort of joking, and that isn’t a new thing, so…but this isn’t something I’m just making up out of nothing.”

Doctor Katsuragi nodded, picking up her notepad and jotting down some additional notes.

“…You were in the middle of telling me about something I’m doing wrong that’s keeping me from getting better?” he reminded. “What is it? I’d like to know so I can fix it and hurry up and get better, you know? For Luka and Nino. They’ve been doing this for a year now, and they shouldn’t have to. I know you say I shouldn’t use ‘should’ because it’s only helpful to focus on things as they actually are, but…I should be getting better. I should be better by now…but I’m not.”

She looked up and met his gaze. “I believe you’ve hit on my point, Adrien. You’re so used to doing things for other people. You played piano because your mother wanted you to learn. You modelled because your father wanted you to model. Now you’re framing improving your mental health in terms of ‘for Nino and Luka’. Adrien, I know you don’t want to feel miserable all the time. I know you want to be able to function without other people’s help. I know that you’re not the way you are because you like being depressed and anxious. In order for you to get out of the hole you’re stuck in right now, you have to be doing this, not to make someone else happy, not because someone else wants you to, but because you want better things for you.”

Adrien looked away, fixing his gaze on the bookshelf, the blue ceramic cat that had its paw hanging down over the edge of the shelf as if pawing at the books on the shelf below. “That’s kind of hard. It’s easier to do things for people you love. Doing something hard for someone you don’t really care about… I don’t really love Adrien Agreste.”

“How about Chat Noir?” Katsuragi tried.

Adrien bit his lip. “…I like him better.”

“Okay. That’s a start,” she affirmed.

“What’s the next step?” Adrien wondered, eyes still on the ceramic cat.

“It would be good if you could work on forgiving yourself for the accident,” she proposed. “…if you could work on letting go of the past, accepting the present for what it is and doing the best with it that you can, and then work towards building a future you look forward to. Now, those are lofty, abstract goals—big goals. That’s our roadmap, the big picture. We’ve talked before about setting smaller goals that help us along our path to eventually achieving the big goals. Do you remember?”

Adrien nodded. “The little goals are supposed to be something concrete that I can measure and actually achieve so that I feel good about myself and feel like I’m making progress. Like at the beginning when I was working on getting up and dressed and eating a gradually increasing number of days until I was able to get up and shower and have breakfast without anyone’s help most days.”

“Very good,” Doctor Katsuragi praised. “Before you leave today, I want us to set up some new goals for the coming weeks. Now that we’ve got you at a point where you’re fairly stable on a day-to-day basis and we’ve gone through a lot of the underlying, contributing factors, I would like to move on from simply regulating your emotions and learning how to respond to stressors to finally starting to tackle some of the bigger, more deeply ingrained issues.”

Adrien slumped, feeling defeated. “Regulating emotions and responding to stressors in real time is still very challenging. It’s taken me a year to get the basics down, and I don’t think I’m ready for a bigger challenge yet. I still haven’t mastered using coping techniques.”

“You’ll get it,” she assured. “We’ll go slowly so you don’t feel overwhelmed.”

“I’m feeling overwhelmed right now,” Adrien muttered, untwisting his position to sit up straight in the chair facing her.

“You can do this, Adrien,” she reassured in a soft, calm voice that reminded him of his mother when she was at her best.

“If you say so,” he sighed, resigning himself to the fact that he was going home with difficult homework.

“…Now, there was one last issue I think we might possibly be having that’s getting in the way of your progress,” she announced.

Adrien arched an eyebrow. “And what would that be?”

“I think you might finally be rebelling.”

Adrien blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I think you’re finally fighting authority,” Doctor Katsuragi explained as Adrien stared at her incredulously. “I once had a client who was a florist while she attended medical school. After she got her degree, she would occasionally get flowers or a plant and then purposely let them die. It was her kind of payback for having to fuss over them for years for work. It made her feel good to flaunt her ability to not have to take care of the plants.”

“So you think I’m rebelling because I’ve had to do whatever other people told me to do all of my life and now I don’t?” Adrien summarized. “But there’s no one to rebel against.”

“There’s me,” she suggested.

“And how am I supposedly rebelling against you?” Adrien wondered, still not buying it.

“You’re not doing the things I tell you to do,” she replied.

Adrien remained skeptical. “Such as?”

She threw the ball back into his court. “Adrien, have you downloaded any of the meditation apps that I suggested?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I have two of them. Why?”

“When was the last time you used them?” She arched a knowing eyebrow.

Adrien flinched. “Uh…like…maybe a week or two ago?”

Her eyebrow rose higher.

Adrien looked away. “Maybe a month or two ago? I don’t like sitting still. It makes me anxious. I can’t meditate.”

“It gets easier the more often you do it,” she insisted. “You can start off with just a few minutes, Adrien. You can start off with just one minute. Didn’t you tell me that Luka was into meditation?”

“Just because I didn’t do one thing you told me to do does not mean that I am rebelling against your authority,” Adrien grumbled.

Doctor Katsuragi hummed thoughtfully. “Adrien, have you tried out a yoga class yet?”

Adrien winced. “No, but…look. Only women go to yoga classes. It’s weird for a guy to go alone. People will think I’m creepy. I’ll make the other participants uncomfortable.”

“Take Nino with you,” she suggested. “It will be good for him.”

“People will think we’re gay,” Adrien argued.

“Adrien, you’re bisexual,” she replied flatly.

“Yes, but people don’t know that,” he hissed, taking one leg up and hugging it into his chest.

Katsuragi made an effort not to roll her eyes. “Take Luka with you too, if you’re concerned.”

“Luka wouldn’t go to a yoga class with me,” Adrien snorted dismissively.

“Adrien, Luka would figure out how to turn lead into gold for you. Please actually ask him before you decide what his answer would be,” she instructed patiently.

“I don’t feel comfortable going to a yoga class,” Adrien replied, hoping to shut the conversation down.

“There are plenty of yoga videos online that you could try in the comfort of your apartment,” she offered, tailoring her advice. “Perhaps you and Luka can explore those together.”

“Invite him over to my apartment to do yoga?” Adrien’s nose scrunched up. “He’ll think I’m hitting on him.”

Doctor Katsuragi took a deep inhale and let it out slowly. “Okay. Why don’t you try it by yourself, then?”

“I’ll look silly, and Plagg will make fun of me,” Adrien returned immediately.

“Kitten, I will not,” Plagg’s disembodied voice intoned from within Adrien’s left shoulder.

“He says he won’t,” Katsuragi reported, looking at Adrien expectantly.

Adrien looked away.

Doctor Katsuragi took another breath. “Adrien, have you been scheduling regular massages? I really think it would be relaxing and that the skin contact would be good for you.”

Adrien grumbled under his breath before answering, “You know, I just don’t really feel like having other people touch me.”

“You could ask Nino for a massage,” she tried. “Or Luka. You don’t mind them touching you. You’re comfortable sharing a bed with them, and you’ve told me how you regularly snuggle.”

“There’s a difference between snuggling and asking for a massage,” Adrien explained. “Massages are sensual.”

“Kitten, they pet you and let you purr your head off,” Plagg spoke up again, tired of Adrien’s excuses keeping him from getting better. “I don’t think they’d balk at a massage.”

“Plagg, you’re supposed to be on my side,” Adrien hissed as his face went fuchsia.

Plagg floated up out of his hiding spot to look Adrien in the eye. “Kid, I am on your side. I am all about you being happy and succeeding in life and not having nightmares and not having panic attacks anymore. I am on your side…. You are the one who is not on your side. Now, stop bellyaching and coming up with ten million excuses and just do what your therapist says to do already.”

Plagg did an about-face, going to the table to play with the Asterix stress ball, rolling around on top of it and then batting it back and forth.

Adrien and Doctor Katsuragi sat in silence for a minute, letting Adrien absorb the interaction. She waited for Adrien to talk first.

He cleared his throat and looked up. “May I please have a piece of paper and a pen?”

Katsuragi blinked in confusion but tore out a sheet of paper from her notepad and surrendered her extra pen.

“Thank you.” He leaned forward, placing the sheet of paper on the coffee table, and began to write. “Okay. So. You’re telling me that I need to stop blaming myself for my father’s death. I need to stop living for other people and decide that I want to do this whole ‘road to healing’ thing for myself….”

He stopped and stared at the two bullet-pointed sentences at the top of his page for a minute. “Those are kind of big. Maybe we can break those down later into bite-size steps because I don’t know how in the world I’m going to do those things, but…”

He started writing again. “You want me to meditate. I hate meditating, but if you want me to meditate, I can meditate for at least one minute every day. I’ll try to do three and then build up from there if it really does get easier the more I do it like you said, but I can at least do one minute.”

“How about after breakfast?” Plagg suggested. “Tack it onto your existing routine so that you actually do it.”

Adrien nodded and added “after breakfast” to the sheet of paper. “Cool. Next was yoga, right? Fine. I’ll do yoga. Plagg, wanna do yoga with me?”

“Sure. Why not?” Plagg snorted as he rolled onto his back, tossing up the stress ball and catching it with his four paws.

“We’ll find something not too new-agey or hippy-y on YouTube and give it a try,” Adrien decided. “We can do…like…ten to twenty minutes…three times a week?”

“That sounds reasonable,” Doctor Katsuragi encouraged, watching proudly as Adrien proved that he really had been listening to her all these months.

“And the other thing you mentioned was massage.” He made a new bullet point for massage and then paused, biting his lip.

“Problem?” she prompted when he was quiet for too long.

He looked up at her, a soft, pastel blush coloring his cheeks. “Okay. Here’s the deal. I’m not comfortable with having a stranger touching me for an hour, so I don’t want to go to a massage parlor. Best case scenario, I’ll be uncomfortable the whole time and won’t relax, so, really, what’s the point? Worst case scenario, I’ll have a panic attack. So, no. I’m not going to get a massage. As for asking a friend…”

He groaned, shaking his head. “I am, like, this close to catching feelings for Luka. I don’t need him giving me massages. Nino…I just can’t,” he sighed. “Whenever they pet my hair or run their hands up and down my back, I just go to pieces. I don’t know why. I just start sobbing lately. I don’t want to break down in tears on Nino after asking him for a massage. It always distresses him. I don’t want to stress him out.”

Doctor Katsuragi nodded slowly. “All right. Maybe we’ll come back and revisit massage sometime later. I’d be happy if you could work on meditation and yoga for right now.”

Adrien blew out a long sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe I could invite Chloé over for spa day and we could give each other shoulder rubs or something. I think I can handle that. I just…”

“It’s okay, Adrien,” she assured. “It’s important to know your limits. Don’t push yourself to do more than you can handle. Your excuses about yoga and meditation seem empty, but it sounds like you really do have reasons for pushing back concerning massage. It’s important to respect your limits.”

Slowly, Adrien began to nod. “Okay. All right. Thanks…. Is there anything else you want me to do that I’m not doing?” He looked at her expectantly yet wearily.

“Have you talked to your brother recently?” she started small.

Adrien looked away, sitting back up straight in his chair. “Félix…is kind of busy. I texted him the other day, but he solves murders, so…that’s kind of more important than talking to his damaged little brother in Paris. I talked to my sister-in-law and niece, though. They all seem to be doing well…. My nephew’s going to be turning one in a few months.”

“Have you thought any more about inviting them to Paris, giving them the mansion?” Katsuragi prodded.

Adrien shook his head. “Their lives are in Marseille. Bridgette has her own bakery that’s thriving. It was bad enough that they had to drop everything a year ago and come take care of me and all the estate stuff. They put their lives on hold for two months. I couldn’t ask them to uproot their lives just because I’m needy.”

“Adrien, I think you’re playing psychic again,” she remarked gently. “How do you know for sure what other people are thinking if you don’t ask them? Maybe your brother and his family would be ecstatic to move to Paris. Isn’t your sister-in-law originally from here? Isn’t her family here? Maybe she’d love to move back home but doesn’t think they have the money to buy a house in Paris. You need to talk to people about things before deciding what they want and what they think. Could you please add that to your list of things and just think about it? I’m only asking you to consider it. All right?”

“All right. I’ll consider it,” Adrien mumbled, writing it down to appease her, even though his mind was made up.

“…And…have you thought any more about reestablishing contact with your stepmother?” Katsuragi ventured warily. “You were very fond of each other, I seem to remember?”

Adrien set the Rubik’s cube down on the table and picked up a spinner, twirling the arms around the center faster and faster. “I want to. I miss her, and I think there’s a lot that I don’t understand that she could explain, but…I don’t even know what I would say to her. ‘Hi, Nathalie. Long time no see. How’s prison? Sorry I killed your husband. Sorry you’re in prison. Sorry you got pulled into my father’s insane scheme to resurrect my mother. Sorry I haven’t talked to you in, like, a year. Read any good books lately?’”

“Adrien, I’m not going to pretend that I know how a reunion with your stepmother would go. Maybe it would be disastrous,” she replied honestly. “Maybe it would be cathartic. I don’t know, but if it’s something that you want, if it’s something that’s going to bother you for years to come, I think you should just do it and get it over with. If it’s disastrous, we can talk about it here. If it goes well, then great. I would encourage you to keep thinking about this.”

Adrien nodded, stopping the spinner and then twirling it in the other direction.

“…Have you given any thought to dating?” Katsuragi proceeded carefully.

Adrien shook his head emphatically. “The two people I’d be interested in are dating each other, and I’m not really in a place where I feel open to giving someone new a chance. I don’t…” He frowned. “I’m worried about being taken advantage of. Like…strangers already think they know me. I’m Papillon’s son, a former model, a rich kid. They already have this image of who Adrien Agreste is, so there’s no room for the real me. I’m worried people would just be in it to date a celebrity and sell the story to the tabloids. Like, what if I find someone and fall in love and really trust them and bare my soul to them and then they just sell me out because none of it was ever real and they were just using me from the start? I can’t…”

His voice cracked.

He cleared his throat and tried again. “Katsuragi-sensei, I can’t do the whole Ladybug heartbreak/betrayal thing again. I can’t trust someone with my everything and then have them let me down.”

“What about having one of your friends set you up?” Katsuragi suggested like she had done on previous occasions when the subject came up. “That way the person wouldn’t be a complete stranger.”

Adrien slumped. “I don’t want to date one of Luka’s friends. He set me up with one of his exes once, and I was a jealous mess the whole time, wondering about how far the guy had gone with Luka. I don’t want to date right now.”

“All right,” Katsuragi accepted. “What do you want?”

Adrien looked down at his hands, mumbling, “For Marinette and Luka to break up.”

Doctor Katsuragi pounced on the opportunity Adrien had opened. “Have you tried to get into contact with Marinette? Or at least thought about it?”

Adrien flinched. “Marinette doesn’t want to talk to me,” he hissed bitterly.

“How do you know that?” she pressed.

“Because!” Adrien shouted, tears bursting free and flowing unhampered. “If she wanted to talk to me, she would have called me. I’m the one whose life blew up! She’s the one who’s supposed to call me. But she didn’t. She hasn’t,” he bit. “She left me having a breakdown with Nino, and then she went off, and she hasn’t talked to me in a year! She didn’t help me move into my apartment. She didn’t come to the funeral. She didn’t call. She didn’t text. She hasn’t dropped by to check on me. She’s just gone! Even when we happen to run into each other on campus or see each other in passing at Luka’s…she…just… She catches sight of me, and this look of horror comes onto her face, and she looks away. She nods, and then it’s like I don’t exist anymore. She hurries away as fast as she can. I don’t…”

“Adrien?” Katsuragi called softly.

He looked up.

“Have you ever considered that maybe she blames herself for your father’s death and that’s the reason why she’s avoiding you? Maybe she thinks that you blame her. Maybe she thinks that you don’t want to see her,” she suggested gently.

Adrien frowned. “I don’t understand. I love her. She knows I love her. She knows I’d die for her. Why in the world would I not want to see her? She has to know how much I need her right now. Why-Why would I blame her for the accident?”

Katsuragi took a deep breath. “…She’s Ladybug, isn’t she?”

Adrien’s face went pale. He buried it in both of his hands and cursed. Looking back up at her, he pleaded, “You can’t tell anybody. She’s super serious about the secret identities thing. If she knew I’d given her away, she’d hate me. You can’t tell anyone. Please.”

Katsuragi leaned forward and nudged the box of tissues closer to Adrien. “I would never. It would be unethical to reveal something I’d learned through a counseling session. Her secret is safe with me just like yours is.”

Adrien nodded, and Katsuragi gave him a moment to process.

“…How did you find out? I’m guessing it was something I said?” he asked, voice weak.

She shrugged. “It was the way you talked about Ladybug and the way that you talked about Marinette and the way that you talked about everything that had happened. The story made more sense if Ladybug and Marinette were the same person.”

Adrien continued to nod.

“I think you should talk to her, Adrien,” Katsuragi repeated. “I think this is a big misunderstanding, and the sooner we get to the bottom of this, the sooner you can get closure and move forward with your life.”

Adrien gave the toy in his hand another spin. “I…can’t talk about Marinette right now.” His voice was tight, bordering on panicked. “Can we go back to talking about my day so far? I can’t…I can’t deal with all of the Marinette feelings right now. Not today. I don’t—”

“—Adrien?” Katsuragi interrupted as Adrien’s eyes began to glaze over in the start of a meltdown.

Adrien’s gaze focused on her. His breathing began to return to normal. “Yes?”

“Before, you were telling me how Nino had come over this morning and gotten you out of bed and made you breakfast and spent the morning with you,” she reminded. “You said that that made you feel annoyed. Why is that?”

Adrien breathed a sigh of relief, happy to be back in less dicey waters. “Because…he and Luka are always doing things like that. I swear they have a rotation schedule. I get calls from one of them at least three times a day to make sure that I’m up and I’m dressed and I’ve eaten and I remember my counseling session or I’m going to class and I did my homework. It’s like actually having parents, I think. And then in the evening it’s did I eat dinner and where am I sleeping tonight…because they don’t like leaving me alone in my apartment. Because they know I have nightmares. I…”

He paused and thought about what he wanted to say, how he wanted to say it. “…I appreciate them. I really do. I wouldn’t have made it through this year without Luka and Nino, but…I kind of resent the way that they act like I’m a total invalid. It’s like they think that if they don’t make sure, I’m going to forget to eat or I’m going to stay up all night and forget to sleep or I’m going to skip class or I’m going to hole myself up and not leave my apartment unless they drag me out and make me do stuff and go places. It’s like…”

He winced. “How is that supposed to make me feel? My best friends think I’m a train wreck. How am I supposed to feel good about myself and feel empowered and feel like maybe I can handle being an adult when my best friends obviously don’t think I can do this? They don’t have to say, ‘Adrien, you’re a mess and you can’t function without us’ out loud.”

Tears slowly started to slip down Adrien’s cheeks once more.

“I know they take care of me because they love me,” he whispered. “…but, at the same time…I wish they’d have a little more confidence in me.” He looked down and gave the spinner a twirl in the opposite direction. “Except…on Wednesdays, they don’t call. That’s their day off. That’s the day when they let me fend for myself, and I can always tell it’s a Wednesday when I’m sitting around my apartment wondering how I lost track of hours out of a day just staring at the wall, wondering why I’m so hungry, wondering what I’m doing up at two in the morning. If they didn’t check up on me, I’d probably be like that most of the time.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Katsuragi broke in. “Adrien, you’re doing a good job with your self-care lately. You’ve been doing a good job setting your own schedule. I’m willing to bet that there are Wednesdays that you do just fine without Nino and Luka. You’re just focusing on all of the bad Wednesdays when you forgot to eat or got caught up in your thoughts. You do deserve for them to have more faith in you. You’re doing a good job.”

Adrien nodded in a conciliatory manner, but it didn’t look like he believed her. “Thanks…. Anyway, I was annoyed this morning because Nino thought that I wouldn’t be able to get up and function like normal today unless he was there…. Actually, I guess I’m annoyed because he was right. I just couldn’t get out of bed this morning, so I guess it’s a good thing he came and made breakfast and hung out with me. Today was harder than I thought it’d be.”

“What are you doing the rest of today after you leave here?” Katsuragi prompted. “Do you have plans with Luka or Chloé or Kagami?”

Adrien shrugged. “I didn’t plan anything. This session is the only thing on my calendar, but I bet you anything that there’s going to be someone in my apartment waiting for me when I get home. I don’t know if Kagami will be able to sneak out and come visit me, but she’ll probably call.”

“Her mother still won’t let her have anything to do with you?” Katsuragi sighed.

Adrien shook his head. “She hasn’t changed her mind about not wanting her daughter involved with the son of a domestic terrorist. Tsurugi-san is still trying to pretend that she and my father weren’t friends for, like, two decades. I don’t know. Kagami does her best to be supportive, but most of the time it has to be from a distance. Her mom’s a total control freak…. It is what it is, though.”

“I’m glad that you’ve been able to accept that,” Katsuragi praised. “…Adrien, what if there isn’t anyone there when you get home?” she encouraged him to think, make contingency plans. “What are you going to do?”

A small smirk of amusement tugged at Adrien’s lips. “I bet you five thousand euros that someone will be sitting on my couch or in my kitchen making me lunch when I get home. Even if they’re not, someone is going to call within half an hour of me getting home, and I’m going to spend the rest of the day being supervised.”

“But what if that doesn’t happen?” she pressed.

He shrugged. “I’m going back to bed, and I’m going to put earbuds in and play the complete works of Chopin while I hide under the covers so that I don’t hear the fireworks.”

Katsuragi frowned. “Fireworks?”

Adrien laughed darkly. “Didn’t you hear? Today is a city-wide celebration commemorating the death—sorry defeat—of Papillon. There’s going to be a fireworks display tonight and all kinds of pop-up carnival rides and even a parade,” Adrien explained sarcastically. “You know, they asked me to be in the parade? Well, not me, but Chat Noir, and do you know what I told them? I told them that even if Gabriel Agreste was a crappy human being, he was still a human being with a family that was grieving, and I told them that they were being extremely insensitive and disrespectful.”

“Oh, Adrien.” Katsuragi’s face fell. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. What did they say?”

Adrien shook his head. “I rang off before they could respond. I couldn’t deal with it. I was about to burst into tears. I did burst into tears as soon as I was off the phone. I…It really hurts, everyone celebrating my father’s death like that. I get that they’re happy that they don’t have to worry about akumatization anymore, and that’s fine. That’s a legit thing to celebrate, but…like,” Adrien bit down on his lip, struggling to keep his emotions under control. “seriously. Couldn’t they pick a different day? It’s so…”

He shook his head. “…It’s so hard. Everyone hates him, and that makes it feel like I’m wrong for mourning him. It also makes me feel like I’m not allowed to feel the hate that I feel for him because, as his son, I’m supposed to be on his side.”

Adrien set down the spinner and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. That makes no sense. I know it doesn’t make sense, but…”

“It makes more sense than you think,” Katsuragi assured. “Do you maybe feel like you have to defend him from everyone else? Like you have to focus on the good things that only you know are there? Like you’re not allowed to explore the grief and the anger you feel towards him because everyone else is already resenting and blaming him?”

Adrien nodded. “It makes me feel like my feelings are wrong either way, so…I feel guilty.”

“I imagine that grieving someone that it seems no one else misses could feel very lonely and delegitimizing, but you know that you’re not alone, right? And that your feelings are valid?” she checked in.

He nodded again. “My head knows those things…but it’s so easy to feel alone and like your feelings are wrong even when someone has their arms around you. I’m not physically alone…I’m emotionally alone.”

Adrien looked up and behind himself at the wall clock and frowned. “We’re over time.”

“I don’t have anywhere to be,” Doctor Katsuragi assured. “My next client doesn’t come in until two. I figured that we might need some extra time today. Besides, there are still some things I think we need to talk about.”

Adrien smiled tiredly. “Thank you. May I text Nino and Luka and my bodyguard to let them know I’m going to be home later than usual? They freak out if I’m not where I’m supposed to be.”

“Of course.”

The session went on for another half hour as Doctor Katsuragi continued evaluating Adrien’s progress in the year since his father’s death. They discussed goals he had achieved and goals he was still working towards. Before they ended for the day, they worked together to set new goals to keep him moving forward and worked out steps he could take to get there.

Victor, Adrien’s bodyguard, had been waiting in the lobby. They exchanged polite smiles and nods when Adrien finally came out.

“Sorry that took so long.”

Victor shook his head, replying in Russian. “Not to worry, Adrianka. Ready?”

Adrien nodded, allowing himself to be escorted back to his apartment, spacing out on the drive home, closing his eyes so as not to see the revelers out on the streets.

Victor walked him to his door, and Adrien could tell even before he got it open that someone was waiting inside to welcome him home. He could hear quiet strains of Bach’s Chaccone for violin coming from within.

Chapter Text

Adrien opened the door of his apartment to find Luka sitting on his couch, absorbed in the Bach piece.

Smiling, Adrien walked light-footedly past the kitchen area just to the left of the entranceway and into the part of the great-room that was set up as a living room with Adrien’s old couch and TV positioned in front of a bank of windows that were just short of being floor-to-ceiling.

When Nino and Luka had begun to help Adrien find an apartment, they’d originally looked for something a little more private, a little less like the cage Adrien had called “his room” before. In the end, Adrien had picked his current apartment with the open floorplan and expansive windows because it felt familiar…like “home”. The other contenders had seemed too small, too closed off, too dark, too claustrophobic.

Adrien came up behind Luka and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the back of the couch. “Your sound is gorgeous,” he hummed appreciatively.

“So’s your face,” Luka snickered, carefully setting down the violin that Adrien had bought for him on the seat of the couch as if it were a baby.

“Is that supposed to be an insult? I think you failed,” Adrien teased, flicking Luka on the shoulder.

Luka came around the couch to pull Adrien into a crushing hug. “Welcome home.”

Adrien squeezed Luka back, melting into the warmth and security of his friend. “Thanks for being here for me.”

“Any time,” Luka assured, easing up on the pressure but still keeping his arms around Adrien. “…Since you just got back from your appointment, I’m guessing that you’re sick of being asked how you’re feeling, but…may I ask how your day is going?”

“You may,” Adrien sighed, resting his head on Luka’s shoulder. “…I don’t know. If Nino hadn’t been there to get me up and feed me this morning, I probably would have lain in bed until the very last second before I had to get up for my appointment.”

“And the appointment went okay?” Luka prompted gently.

Adrien made a vague noise. “Katsuragi-sensei thinks it’s time to move forward with my treatment plan now that I’ve supposedly stabilized and gotten the hang of the basic tools I need to progress.”

“And what are your thoughts about that?” Luka inquired, trying not to say, “how does that make you feel”.

Adrien shook his head. “I’m anxious. Apprehensive. I don’t feel like I have a firm grasp of the techniques she wants me to use, so…working on forgiving myself for my father’s death and working on trying to do this whole getting better thing for myself instead of other people… It’s daunting.” Adrien snuggled in closer. “Actually, it feels impossible.”

“It’s not,” Luka whispered into Adrien’s hair, starting to run one of his hands up and down Adrien’s back. “It’s going to take time, but that doesn’t mean that it’s impossible.”

Adrien started to tear up. “You know, it’s taken me a year to get this far, and most people only get a month or two of sessions? I feel so remedial. Like…other people don’t take this long to get their lives sorted out. What the heck is wrong with me?”

Luka pulled back to make Adrien look him in the eye. “Hey. Adrien, there’s nothing wrong with you. Okay? You’re just going through a lot at one time. Most people don’t have to totally rebuild their lives like you did. You should be proud of yourself for making it this far. I’m proud of you.”

Adrien closed his eyes and set his head back down on Luka’s shoulder. “Thanks,” he whispered, trying to calm down and just breathe. “Sorry. I don’t know what the deal is. I’m crying a lot today.”

“It’s okay,” Luka assured, going back to running his hand up and down Adrien’s back. “You’re allowed to cry when you’re upset. Honestly, Adrien, the fact that it’s only been a year and you’re already doing so well…that’s amazing. I know you don’t feel like it, but you’re really tough, okay? You’re tough, and you’re going to get through this. It’s going to take time, but you’re going to be okay.”

“Thanks,” Adrien repeated, listening to Luka’s heartbeat, trying to sync his own inhales and exhales to Luka’s.

Luka stood there, holding Adrien supportively until Adrien decided that he was ready to pull away.

“Thanks,” Adrien whispered again, stepping back with a smile. “Have I told you lately how much I appreciate you?”

“Just yesterday,” Luka reminded, clapping Adrien on the arm. “Don’t worry. What with you always thanking me for every little thing and all of your expensive gifts, I feel plenty appreciated.”

“Good,” Adrien sighed in relief, rubbing at his right elbow with his left hand as he smiled sheepishly. “I don’t want you to think I’m taking you and Nino for granted. I know you two have made huge sacrifices for me this past year…that you’re still making sacrifices, and I appreciate it.”

Luka blinked, momentarily confused as he tried to pinpoint what Adrien was talking about. His brow furrowed. “Angel-Face, to my knowledge, I haven’t really sacrificed anything. I know everything we’ve done has meant a lot to you, so I don’t want to trivialize that, but helping you out really hasn’t been a big deal.”

“You’ve sacrificed your time,” Adrien pointed out. “Staying over to help me through the night terrors, coming over to make me eat, taking me out, helping me with errands and household chores…sitting with me through breakdowns…sitting with me and just letting me cry…sitting with me just so that I wouldn’t be alone… If you add up all the hours you’ve spent on me this year, that’s probably weeks of your life you’re not getting back. Maybe a whole month or more.”

A slow smile spread over Luka’s face as he reached out and tussled Adrien’s hair. “It’s not like that time was wasted. You’re assuming that I would have rather been somewhere else. I like spending time with you. That’s kind of why we’re friends.”

Adrien rolled his eyes, trying not to let the words affect him. “Yeah. Thanks, but I’m pretty sure spending time with your girlfriend would have been more fun.”

Luka shrugged. “I wouldn’t have been able to enjoy it because I’d have been worried about you.”

Adrien groaned, waving dismissively. “You’re such a sap. I’m depressed, not easy. You’re not getting into my pants, so lay off the blatant ego stroking, Casanova.”

Luka snapped his fingers exaggeratedly. “Darn. You saw through my master plan.”

Shaking his head, Adrien started around to the other side of the couch. He stopped when he caught sight of the large, rectangular keyboard case on the floor between the TV and the coffee table. He looked back at Luka, a dozen questions in his eyes.

Luka bit his lip. “Yeah. Okay. So, about that…” He came over to Adrien’s side, resting a hand on Adrien’s upper arm. “Look. I know you have a complicated relationship with the piano because of your parents. I know you hated it when your dad used to lock you in your room to practice for hours until you could play pieces perfectly as punishment for making mistakes, and I know you felt pressured to play well as a kid because your mom really wanted you to…”

Adrien shuddered at the memory of lonely hours spent playing pieces over and over until he wanted to cry out of frustration.

Luka’s thumb started to rub back and forth gently on Adrien’s arm.

Luka continued his sales pitch cautiously. “…I know that at some points you’ve really hated piano…but I also know that there have been times when you’ve genuinely loved playing. I know you played through your feelings when you were upset. I know piano was a way for you to get all that gunk out and to express yourself. I know you had fun playing with Kitty Section, and I know you enjoyed teaching me…the times that the two of us played together. I know it’s really complicated because all of that is tangled up together—the joy with the pain—but…”

He tipped Adrien’s chin up gently. “Adrien, I know that there’s a part of you that played sometimes just because it made you happy.”

“So, what are you suggesting?” Adrien warily inquired.

“Play,” Luka breathed.

Adrien took a step back, beginning to shake his head. “I don’t know. I don’t—”

Luka stepped forward, catching Adrien by the shoulders. “—Please hear me out.”

Adrien frowned, worrying at his lip with his teeth.

“You can say no. You can absolutely say no,” Luka assured, “but I had the keyboard brought here today because I thought it could help.” Sheepishly, he looked to the side. “Maybe I’m way off base, and I’m sorry if I am, but…” He captured Adrien’s gaze with his own once more and smiled hopefully. “Music is my safe space. It’s where I work out all the swirling thoughts in my head. It helps me process. It helps me focus. I feel like I’ve read somewhere that music therapy is a thing. I’m not sure what exactly they say that it helps with, but…music has been a lifesaver for me…maybe it could be a space for you to find some peace too.”

Adrien looked at the keyboard case and bit down harder on his lip. “I don’t know.”

“You can say no,” Luka reminded. “I’m completely serious. If this isn’t something you’re comfortable with, say no. I swear you’re not going to hurt my feelings. Besides, this isn’t about me anyway. This is one hundred percent about you.”

“I don’t know,” Adrien repeated as he slowly made his way over to the case, kneeling down in front of it and chewing thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek.

“You don’t have to take up a regular practice or anything,” Luka added, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice as he saw Adrien show interest in the keyboard. He eased himself down onto the floor beside Adrien. “You don’t even have to play anything in particular. You could just sit down and improv whenever the mood struck you. You don’t have to practice to impress anybody, and you don’t have to even be any good.”

Adrien cautiously opened up the case as if it were a Mimic ready to bite him. He stared down at the silent keys.

“I want you to be able to play on your own terms,” Luka coaxed. “For the first time, I want you to play solely because it’s something you choose to do, not because anyone is making you. I want you to be able to find joy in just playing for yourself, so…don’t make yourself do this for me. Only play if you want to play, okay?”

Adrien nodded, staring intently down into the case at what felt like an old friend.

Adrien was silent for a good, solid minute. “…I don’t know if I want—if I want to play or if I just want to play because you want me to play right now,” he confessed, reaching out and gently stroking the keys, playing something Luka didn’t recognize.

“What’s that?”

Adrien shook his head, playing slowly. “It’s from The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask. It’s called Song of Healing. It’s fun because if you cut down a signpost with your sword and then play the Song of Healing next to it, the sign magically puts itself back together.”

Luka smiled fondly, feeling giddy that Adrien seemed to be considering Luka’s idea. “We’re going to have to play that together sometime.”

“I’m always down to play Zelda,” Adrien assured.

They sat in silence for a minute or two, Luka watching Adrien’s fingers move over the mute keys, trying to imagine the melody in his head. “…Please borrow the keyboard,” Luka pleaded softly as the song came to a close and Adrien pulled his hands away. “I don’t care if it just sits in the corner untouched for weeks. Please borrow the keyboard and just…just think about maybe playing it sometime. Or if a keyboard really is no good, please come to the Liberty and pick out another instrument to take home with you. Just please have an instrument in your apartment just in case you decide you do want to try playing. If you really don’t want to, that’s fine, but…if you’re undecided…” Luka let the request hang, not wanting to push too hard in case Adrien really did want to say no.

“Okay,” Adrien replied softly, voice not quite certain. “I don’t know if I’ll ever play it, but…you’re right. What’s the harm in letting it sit and collect dust if it means so much to you?”

Luka groaned half-heartedly. “You’re supposed to be doing this for you, not me.”

Adrien shrugged. “Help me set it up on the far wall?”

“On it,” Luka assured.

Together, they moved the keyboard into place and situated it on its stand.

“Happy?” Adrien chuckled as he admired the satisfied grin on Luka’s face as he observed the fruits of their labor.

Luka’s grin turned sheepish at being caught. “Yes.”

“Good.” Adrien clapped Luka on the back, snickering. “Maybe I’ll play it for you sometime.”

The sheepish grin slipped into concern. “You’re not supposed to be doing this for me,” he reminded.

Adrien shrugged, crossing his arms and looking away, pretending to study the effect of a keyboard on the feng shui of his living room. “I’m bad at doing things just for me. But you’re probably right. Playing would probably be good for me.”

Luka bit his lip, taking in the little details of Adrien’s face: the relatively dull color of Adrien’s eyes nowadays, the crease of his brow, the tension in his jaw, the dark semicircles under his eyes. Adrien had improved over the past year, but he was still in rough shape.

“…Where are you sleeping tonight?”

“Nino’s,” Adrien lied, wanting to be left alone.

Luka gave Adrien’s arm a poke. “Tonight is Nino and Alya’s anniversary. Unless you guys are having a threesome, I’m pretty sure he’s busy.”

Adrien’s shoulders rose up to his ears. “…I kind of just want some space.”

Luka gently began running a singular knuckle up and down Adrien’s arm. “That’s what you said last night. …How did that go?” Luka’s tone was nonjudgmental.

Adrien bit his lip and averted his gaze further. “…Fine.”

He’d tossed and turned until three in the morning, feeling cold and lonely and miserable. When he had finally gotten to sleep, he’d had The Nightmare again, and he’d woken up screaming and gasping for air. Plagg had tried to help, but Plagg couldn’t pull him into a boa constrictor hug and physically hold him together like Nino or Luka. He’d passed out and then spent the rest of the night in a fitful sleep.

“I couldn’t really sleep last night,” Luka confessed. “I kept thinking about you, wanting to call you. I got sent out to the main cabin because I was disturbing Marinette, so…please don’t tell me to go sleep with my girlfriend tonight. We’d both be happier if I was with you.”

A bark of laughter caught Adrien by surprise, and he turned to shake his head at Luka. “Are you seriously telling me you can’t sleep because of me? That’s really cliché, Couffaine.”

Luka gave a wide-armed shrug. “You like romantic clichés. …Is it enough to get you into my bed tonight?”

Adrien slapped Luka on the arm lightly.

“Come on,” Luka coaxed. “Come over for dinner with me and Maman and Juleka and Rose. We can watch Disney movies in my room afterwards. It’ll be fun. …I don’t want you to be alone tonight.”

Adrien shrank back, shaking his head. “Luka, I can’t do family dinner tonight. I just…I’m sorry. I can’t. I can’t deal with other people. I want to be alone.”

“Okay,” Luka sighed, respecting Adrien’s limits. “Okay, but at least let me stay here. You can do your own thing. We don’t even have to talk. I’ll sleep out here on the couch, but I want to be close by. Please. Just for my own peace of mind, okay?”

Adrien rolled his eyes. “Luka, I’m not making you sleep on the couch.”

Luka perked up. “So I can stay?”

“You can stay if it’s really that important to you,” Adrien grumbled.

“You are extremely important to me,” Luka breathed, smiling happily.

Adrien walked away, fleeing to the kitchen, away from those words and the way that they, coupled with Luka’s smile, made Adrien feel. “I’m hungry,” he remarked to cover his retreat.

“Already made lunch,” Luka informed, heading over to the fridge to pull out a large Tupperware container full of vibrantly colorful salad. “Tada.”

Adrien’s eyes started to tear up. “You made me salad.”

“I also got out the mint tea, if you feel up for it,” Luka offered, setting the plastic container down on the island in the center of the kitchen. “I wasn’t sure if it would help or hurt to make your mom’s old comfort foods for you, so…”

“Help,” Adrien assured, coming over to pull Luka into an appreciative hug. “You’re the best.”

“I try,” Luka chuckled, giving Adrien a squeeze.

“You’re succeeding,” Adrien laughed, pulling away to lean back against the kitchen counter.

“…How strong is your stomach feeling today?” Luka ventured tentatively. 

Adrien fluttered his hand and shrugged.

“You haven’t been getting a lot of protein besides those shakes lately, so I made fish,” Luka explained. “I had it in the oven earlier before you texted to say you’d be late, and I didn’t want it to get dried out, so I put it in the fridge. We’ll have to heat it back up, but…do you think you can eat salmon today?”

Adrien made a thoughtful face. He’d never been a fan of meat. He’d eat it if it was set down in front of him, but it wasn’t his favourite. After witnessing his father’s death, however, even fish and seafood had become unappetizing, causing his stomach to churn. A bloody steak was enough to make him pass out.

“It’s not a big deal if you can’t,” Luka rushed to assure. “If today has to be vegetarian, I made a five-bean salad too. You don’t have to push yourself.”

“I’ll try the salmon,” Adrien decided. “If it still had scales or its head or something, I’d probably throw up, but just a salmon filet should be fine. May I have some of the bean salad too?”

“You can have whatever you want,” Luka chuckled, pleased, as he got out the container of bean salad as well as the salmon filets to heat up.

Adrien smiled, enjoying the guilty pleasure of watching Luka move around Adrien’s kitchen. “Thank you,” Adrien whispered, overwhelmed by how lucky he was to be in that peaceful moment where everything felt safe and okay.

“It’s no problem,” Luka insisted.

“No,” Adrien chuckled. “I’m just…I’m really grateful to have you in my life.”

Luka paused to look back over his shoulder and beam adoringly at Adrien. “Ditto, Perfect Fifth.”

Adrien could feel his cheeks burning pleasantly as joy and contentment welled up in his chest…but then he thought of his Lady, his Princess, and he felt like a traitor. …Just like when he’d started to fall for Marinette before he’d learned she was also Ladybug. 

He still loved Marinette. He didn’t think he would ever stop loving her. Despite the time that had lapsed, despite the fact that she probably hated him, despite the fact that she had been dating one of his best friends for years now. Despite the fact that he was now falling for her boyfriend.

He had learned that he could love them both. It didn’t matter. Marinette and Luka were together and would never be his anyway. He could harbor them both in his heart in secret. No one needed to know. He was only hurting himself, so it was all right. In his heart, he could have them both…even if he had neither in reality.

They spent the evening snuggled up on the couch, playing The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask, switching the controller back and forth between them every twenty minutes or so. 

For dinner, they made ricotta and raspberry pancakes for the extra protein and vitamins. (Luka was getting good at making healthy meals taste delicious.)

Adrien loved cooking with Luka. The casual intimacy of moving in tandem around Adrien’s small kitchen—all the brushes of hands and accidental bumps of hips—had a grounding effect. It made Adrien truly feel present in the moment, aware of what was going on around him. It kept him tethered to the here and now and protected him from drifting off into dark thoughts. 

…There was also the warm, fuzzy feeling generated by the domesticity of the situation. Adrien let himself fantasize and pretend a bit when they were cooking together. Deep down, he knew that he would never find a partner. There would never be someone to love and share a life with, so he let himself mentally “play house” sometimes. It was a guilty pleasure, but he needed it to stay sane.

After dinner, Adrien messed over his homework for a bit while Luka played through Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons on the violin, doing an encore of the first movement of Winter at Adrien’s request. When Luka finished with that, he went over to the keyboard and started on Chopin’s Raindrop Prelude.

Adrien looked up from his textbook to glare. “Stop tempting me.”

Luka quirked an eyebrow, smirking slyly even as he feigned innocence. “What do you mean?”

“You’re making my fingers itch,” Adrien grumbled.

Luka shrugged. “You can play whenever you want.”

“I can’t right now,” Adrien whined. “I have to read this chapter for tomorrow.”

Luka got up from the keyboard and went back over to Adrien, pulling him back so that he was partially lounging in Luka’s arms. Then he took the textbook and inspected its contents.

“You’re still on the first page.”

“Because I’m distracted and I don’t understand what I’m reading,” Adrien mumbled, turning his head, burrowing into Luka’s chest in embarrassment.

“Would it help if I read it to you? I can’t do the whole chapter in one go, but we could take turns, if you like,” Luka suggested. “Maybe we can figure it out together. Marinette talks about her Business classes sometimes, so maybe I’ve picked something useful up by osmosis.”

Adrien nodded. “That would be great. Thank you.”

Luka pursed his lips, hesitating. “…So…I know there’s some kind of…weird…going on between you two.”

Adrien tensed, not really wanting to discuss how Marinette hated him because she thought he’d known about his father and felt betrayed by the fact that Adrien was Chat Noir and was disgusted that he’d killed his father and didn’t want to have anything to do with his breakdown and never wanted to talk to him again and—

“—Adrien.” Luka’s voice yanked him out of the spiral. “Hey. Sorry. I know I should know better than to bring up the issue between you two, but…whatever it is, you two were friends for years. Your friendship is stronger than whatever misunderstanding you guys have had. I think you need to talk to her. …At the very least, you’re in the same Business program; maybe she could tutor you. Maybe that could be neutral ground to start rebuilding on.”

“No,” Adrien answered automatically, voice tinted with hurt. “She doesn’t want anything to do with me. Why would you encourage me to do something that’s going to hurt me? I thought you cared about me.”

“I do,” Luka breathed, nuzzling Adrien’s hair, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “I do care. That’s why I’m doing this. Even if neither of you will talk about it, I can see how whatever secret you’re both keeping is wearing you down and eating you both from the inside out. …It hurts to see the people I love hurting, Adrien.”

Adrien shivered, thoughts racing as he tried to fight the emotions those words ignited in him.

Luka pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Adrien’s head. “I don’t know how you got it into your mind that she doesn’t want you in her life anymore, but you’re wrong. She still cares about you. Deeply. She’s never stopped loving you.”

Adrien pushed away, standing and starting to pace manically before sitting back down a meter away and glaring at Luka. The effect was lessened in some respects while simultaneously heightened in others by the tears in Adrien’s eyes.

“Don’t,” Adrien hissed. “I know you think you’re helping get us to be friends again, but you have no idea what you’re talking about. What’s broken between us isn’t just some simple misunderstanding.”

Adrien blew out a breath in a huff. “I wish I could just tell you so you’d finally get it, but that’s her secret. What I will say is that I am pathetically in love with your girlfriend. I am almost literally crazy for her, and you trying to push us back together hurts. Because even if by some miracle we become friends again, she’s never going to leave you for me. You’re…”

Adrien shook his head, gesturing helplessly at Luka. “You’re you. I could write epic poetry about how wonderful and perfect you are. Anyone lucky enough to date you would never leave you for a nuclear disaster like me, so…just stop.” Adrien looked away, hugging himself tightly.

Luka scooted closer on the couch, gently tugging Adrien back into his arms. “Sorry, P5.”

Adrien tipped his head to look over his shoulder at Luka. “Don’t play with me. Please, Luka. Don’t give me false hope.”

“I promise that’s not what I’m doing,” Luka sighed, deciding to make a strategic retreat for the moment. He’d talk to Marinette about this later. “I’m sorry. Please don’t cry, Adrien. I’m sorry.”

His fingers found the spots on Adrien’s head and began to rub soothingly until the rigidity slowly evaporated from Adrien’s body and he slumped back into Luka’s hold, purring softly.

“…Still want me to read your textbook to you?” Luka asked twenty minutes later, rousing Adrien from his trance.

“Please,” Adrien answered in a deep, thick voice, reasoning that a distraction was a good idea lest he succumb to the torrent of feelings he was experiencing and make a fool of himself by telling Luka that he loved him.

Nino called to check in at nine o’clock. “Salut, Mec. How are you doing?”

“Not bad. I mean, I’ve been worse, so…” Adrien replied with a shrug. “How’s the anniversary going?”

“Great,” Nino chuckled but then made an effort to reign in his own happiness in light of the very different anniversary his best friend was celebrating. He cleared his throat. “Great. Listen, are you sure you’re all right? Dude, if you need me, I’m there. I’m serious.”

Adrien let out an ironic snort. “No. Thanks, but I’m honestly good, Nino. I already ruined your anniversary last year; I don’t intend to do the same this year. Alya already resents me; I don’t want to make things worse.”

Adrien felt Luka tense against his back.

“Adrien,” Nino sighed. “You didn’t ruin anything. I promise. And Alya doesn’t resent you. Mec, she understands. Like, one hundred percent. Sometimes she has to run off on me for best friend emergencies too. She gets it. And I’m here for you. Adrien, I love you, okay? I know you think you’re being a burden, but it’s really not like that. I mean…you wouldn’t mind if you had to do it for me, would you?”

“Of course not,” Adrien assured.

They’d had this conversation before. Part of Adrien could see where Nino was coming from, but the larger part worried that even then Adrien was asking too much, taking too much…that Nino was only sticking it out for the person Adrien had been…that Nino only loved the person Adrien used to be.

After all, who could love the person Adrien was now?

He wondered when past-Adrien was going to use up his store of favors and goodwill with Nino. How many years of babysitting and coddling had his previous friendship with Nino earned Adrien? When would the patience and love run out? When would Nino get tired and call it quits? How much longer did Adrien have?

“Thanks, Nino. I-I love you too.” Even Adrien could tell his voice sounded strained, forced…on the verge of tears.

“Adrien, level with me,” Nino sighed. “Do you need me to come over there? Forget Alya for a sec. I can spend time with her whenever. Do you need me?”

“N-No. No,” Adrien assured, twisting his lips into a smile in hopes that the movement would find its way into his voice. “I’m fine. Just a little emotional. You don’t have to come. Luka’s here with me. He’s going to spend the night and make sure I’m okay. Thanks, though.”

Adrien could hear the eyebrow waggle in Nino’s voice. “Oh? Couffaine’s still there? Sorry, Mec. Am I interrupting something?”

Adrien internally winced, his cheeks beginning to color with shame. His heart ached at the reminder that neither Marinette nor Luka would ever be his.

“Can you just not?” Adrien whispered.

“Sorry,” Nino immediately backpedaled.

“You should go back to your date,” Adrien suggested not unkindly. “I don’t want to keep Alya waiting. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah—Hey, Mec, before you hang up, pass the phone to Couffaine, will ya?”

Adrien frowned. “Why?”

“I promise I’ll be good,” Nino swore. “I just don’t believe you’re okay, so I’m not going to be able to enjoy the rest of my evening until I get a second opinion.”

Adrien sighed, sitting up and holding out the phone to Luka. “Tell him I’m fine.”

Luka took the phone with a grimace. “Lahiffe? …Well, he’s not fine, but you don’t need to come storm the castle. I’ve got this…. I’ve already got it covered. No need to ask…. Sure. If he lets me,” Luka snickered, running a hand through his hair.

Adrien quirked an eyebrow in suspicion.

“…All right. Enjoy your date.” Luka handed the phone back to Adrien.

“Hello?” Adrien prompted.

“Hey. Have a good night, Mec. I love you, okay?” Nino reminded. “Don’t forget that.”

“Thanks,” Adrien replied with a tired smile. “Love you too.”

“Okay. Be good. We’ll hang out tomorrow, all right?” Nino promised, signing off.

The call disconnected, and Adrien looked curiously at Luka. “What did he say to you?”

Luka shook his head. “Just wanted to make sure you were really okay. He told me to be extra sweet to you, and he wanted me to give you something.”

Adrien gave Luka a guarded look. “Give me something?”

“Stand up,” Luka prompted.

Adrien did and found himself pulled into a crushing hug.

“This is from Nino,” Luka informed. “He’s sorry that he’s not here.”

“He doesn’t have to be,” Adrien muttered into Luka’s shoulder.

“He still feels like he should. This is also from Nino.” Luka pulled back to tilt up Adrien’s chin.

Adrien’s heart stopped as Luka leaned in.

Luka pressed a gentle kiss to Adrien’s cheek. “He also asked me to remind you that he loves you. Periodically.”

Adrien nodded, still recovering from what hadn’t ended up being a kiss on the lips after all.

“Wanna watch a movie? Frozen?” Luka suggested.

Adrien kept nodding.

They headed to bed after the movie, snuggling under the expensive sheets. Even though there was plenty of room in Adrien’s king-size bed, Luka made a point of sleeping near the center to be close for when Adrien’s night terrors started.

“There weren’t as many fireworks as I thought there would be,” Adrien remarked as he stared at the wall, struggling to quiet his mind.

“Yeah. I heard a couple pops, but not the big display that they were talking about,” Luka replied, rolling over onto his side to face Adrien’s back. “Maybe Chloé’s protest was successful after all.”

“Maybe,” Adrien mumbled, closing his eyes and making an effort to relax. It was often difficult to drift off because he knew nightmares were waiting for him.

Several minutes later, Luka spoke again. “Adrien?”

“Hm?”

“I love you,” Luka confessed softly.

It wasn’t the first time Luka had said it, but it still struck Adrien to the core. It was the euphoria of heaven and the deep fryer of hell all at once. They were the right words, but the right sentiment wasn’t behind them.

“You know that, right?” Luka prompted.

“Does your girlfriend know you’re cheating on her?” Adrien laughed, trying to make it into a joke. His tone came out a little darker, a little more bitter than he had intended.

Luka’s arm draped over Adrien’s waist, and Adrien could feel Luka inching closer behind him.

“It’s not cheating if you’ve told your girlfriend and gotten her permission,” Luka whispered.

What did that mean? Were they still joking? Did that mean…? But Luka didn’t have those kinds of feelings for Adrien. How could he? Adrien was a dumpster fire. People didn’t go falling in love with burning trash. Luka’s affections for him were purely platonic. What Luka felt for Adrien was akin to an older sibling taking care of a younger sibling. Luka didn’t mean “love” the way that Adrien did. Adrien was just kidding himself if he thought that his good looks were enough to tempt anyone who knew what a mess he was on the inside.

Therefore, Luka meant “love” in the same way that Nino did. End of story.

“…I love you too,” Adrien whispered. “You’re a precious friend to me, Orpheus. Thank you for everything.”

Luka withdrew his hand and inched back, respecting Adrien’s friend-zoning “yellow card” and not wanting to make Adrien uncomfortable with the intimate gesture and Luka’s proximity.

Luka cleared his throat, having trouble finding his voice. “Of course. Yeah. Any time. You’re…You’re precious to me too.”

It was still another half hour before either of them managed to drift off to sleep.

Adrien had a dream.

It wasn’t the usual The Nightmare. In the usual The Nightmare, Adrien watched his father plummet to his death. Then, Gabriel’s ghost followed Adrien around, berating him constantly.

Émilie’s ghost joined in, lecturing him about how he should have done this or that or the other thing differently. She accused him of not loving her and his father because Adrien wouldn’t try to take Ladybug’s earrings so that he could make a wish and set everything right.

Then Ladybug showed up to join the scolding. She said horrible things to him that made him want to cry. She told him what a worthless partner he’d always been. She told him she would never love him. She told him that no one loved him. She said she hated him and would never forgive him. She taunted him. And then she left him alone with the ghosts of his parents, taking his Miraculous away with her to give to “someone who deserved it”.

Then it was Adrien falling. Just Adrien, alone. No Plagg. No Ladybug. No hope of rescue. Just Adrien falling in the dark until he woke up screaming.

It was a stupid nightmare. He knew it wasn’t real.

He knew Ladybug would never actually come say those things, even if she did think them. She didn’t want anything to do with him. She probably didn’t waste much energy thinking about him at all.

And his parents were dead. They couldn’t come back and berate him…unless the recurring The Nightmare was them doing just that, but…Gabriel had always torn Adrien down more coldly than the Gabriel in The Nightmare. The specters of his parents were awful, yes, but they didn’t feel like the way Adrien remembered them. They sounded more like Adrien than themselves.

And yet, Adrien still woke up screaming, some nameless, half-remembered terror chasing him out of his unconscious mind.

But the dream Adrien had that night was not The Nightmare. The same cast was present and accounted for, but they were different. They seemed more like how Adrien remembered them from real life.

Émilie was reading a book and beckoned Adrien over to sit on the window seat bench beside her.

The text was in German, so Adrien couldn’t read it. He somehow knew that it was Anna Karenina, though. Both his mother and Luka loved that one.

Adrien snuggled up to his mother, and she read aloud to him in soft, guttural accents.

Then Gabriel came into the dream and called Adrien over to the piano.

Émilie kissed her son on the forehead as he got up to go.

At first, Adrien was afraid that Gabriel was going to have him play the piece he was supposed to have been practicing. Adrien hadn’t played in a year, and he knew his father was going to be angry and lock him up in his room.

Only, instead, Gabriel sat down on the bench and patted the seat beside him.

Adrien acquiesced, and they began to play together, Ravel’s Ma Mère l’Oye. They played through the first section, and Adrien looked up to find his father smiling.

It was a reserved smile, just the slightest upward turn of Gabriel’s lips, but it was still a smile.

They did the second section, and Adrien looked up to ask his father a question, but Gabriel was gone.

Marinette was standing by the piano. She was young. Very, very young, it seemed. Maybe fourteen, not long after they’d first met. She held a pink rose, twirling it in her fingers as she smiled at him in adoration. 

It was the kind of smile that held a secret.

She laughed, reaching out to slip the rose behind Adrien’s ear.

“It goes with your cheeks,” she giggled.

He reached up to touch his cheek and found it warmed by a blush. He opened his mouth to thank her, but she was suddenly gone.

“Looking for me, Chaton?”

Adrien spun around to find Ladybug grinning at him with Marinette’s smile.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning in for a kiss.

When Adrien pulled back, he found himself in Luka’s arms.

Luka caressed Adrien’s cheek, his gaze speaking of unshakable affection. “I love you, Angel.”

Adrien blinked as he parted his lips to respond. When he opened his eyes, he found himself back in his bedroom.

Luka was asleep beside him, breathing slow and deep.

The clock on the nightstand told Adrien that it was just past three AM, about the usual time that Adrien woke up screaming.

He lay there for a minute or two, trying to get back to sleep, but he found that he wasn’t sleepy. Adrien felt wired.

And his fingers were itching (curse Luka and Adrien’s own subconscious for ganging up).

Adrien stealthily slipped out of bed, doing his best not to disturb Luka or Plagg. He headed into the main room and tentatively approached the keyboard.

Adrien pursed his lips. His natural inclination was to sit down and start running through scales and a couple more warmup exercises.

Instead, he clumsily began to play the first thing that came to mind.

The music from The Legend of Zelda game he’d been playing earlier with Luka gradually started to take shape on the keys.

It was nice. It didn’t need to be perfect. His father wasn’t going to lock him up if he made mistakes. His mother wasn’t there to urge him to play specific pieces, so there was no pressure like there had been at times when she was alive. He could play whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, and he could stop when he decided to stop. He could just play for himself, and that was really freeing.

“I guess this is what Luka meant by wanting me to ‘play on my own terms’,” he mused.

Adrien lost track of time as he played through the game’s soundtrack. There were parts he couldn’t quite remember or couldn’t puzzle out the notes for, so he skipped around or made new parts up. Some of it sounded awful, and his fingers felt slow and accident-prone at times. 

For the most part, the muscle memory he’d cultivated through years and years of practice made it feel like coming home…or, rather, what “coming home” was supposed to feel like. It was familiar and nostalgic…but then there were moments where his fingers fumbled, and he could tell he hadn’t practiced in a year.

But it was fun. It was relaxing, and he found himself smiling, laughing when he messed up, snickering at the sour notes. There were even parts that sounded good, bringing with them a feeling of satisfaction, a sense that he wasn’t completely a lost cause.

Luka had been right. This was good. This felt good, like a void was filling up inside of Adrien, a void he’d felt but of which he couldn’t determine the cause.

As usual, Luka knew Adrien better than Adrien knew himself.

Tears began to trickle down Adrien’s cheeks, and he stopped playing to wipe at his eyes.

At the sound of sniffles, Luka was up from the couch in an instant, coming to Adrien’s side, wrapping his arms around Adrien.

“Hey,” Luka cooed. “Hey, it’s okay. What’s wrong, Angel?”

Adrien jumped, tears drying abruptly in his surprise. “L-Luka. What…? Did I wake you? I’m sorry. How long have you been listening?”

Luka shrugged, rubbing away a tear with his thumb. He glanced at the digital clock on the stove. “Half an hour…forty minutes. You didn’t wake me. I’ve just gotten used to getting up with you around this time. I wake up even on nights when I’m not with you, so it’s fine. You didn’t wake me. I just woke up, and you weren’t there, so I kind of freaked out for a second,” Luka chuckled, ruffling Adrien’s hair.

“But then I heard the keyboard and came in to listen.” A wide, content grin spread across Luka’s lips. “You’re such a delight. Even when you’re just messing around, your sound is so…” Luka shook his head. “You give me goosebumps.”

Adrien looked away, knowing Luka would still see his self-conscious smile but hoping the darkness would hide his blush.

“…Why were you crying?” Luka inquired cautiously.

Adrien grimaced. “Sorry. Just…emotions.”

“Emotions are good things,” Luka reminded, gently patting Adrien’s hair as he moved up onto the bench beside Adrien to get a better angle. “What kind of emotions?”

Adrien swallowed, trying to wrangle his thoughts. “Just…longing and…nostalgia…regret…relief…happiness too…. I used to play piano with my mom. Father too sometimes. I was remembering what it was like to play with them, and…I came to the realization that I missed this—playing.”

He bit his lip, raising his head to meet Luka’s gaze. “I really needed this back in my life, so…thank you,” Adrien whispered, leaning in to press a kiss of gratitude to Luka’s jaw. “Thank you for giving this back to me.”

Luka pulled Adrien into his chest, dropping a light kiss on the top of Adrien’s head. “I’m just thankful it helped,” Luka breathed, holding Adrien close. “Most of the time I feel so helpless. There’s so little I can do for you. I just want you to be happy. Seeing you smile, hearing you laugh…if I can make that happen…”

“You help more than you think,” Adrien hummed softly, gradually pulling back. “…Wanna play something together?”

“Sure,” Luka easily agreed, eager to oblige. “What did you want to play?”

“Something by my favourite composer,” Adrien chuckled.

“Mahler? Shostakovich?” Luka guessed. “You have a couple favourites. Chopin?”

Adrien shook his head. “I feel like I’ve been pretty vocal about my indisputable favourite.”

“Sorry. You’ve stumped me,” Luka confessed.

“He’s French…with Scottish-Irish influences on his maternal grandmother’s side,” Adrien hinted.

Luka covered his face to hide the quickly spreading blush. “Oh my God.”

“His background is mostly rock, but he’s studied the Classical and Romantic repertoires extensively and often includes Classical elements in his works.”

“Oh my God,” Luka repeated, starting to chuckle. “Stop.”

“My favourite composer is Luka Couffaine,” Adrien announced.

“Flatterer.” Luka gave Adrien a soft elbow to the side. “You’ve already got me in your bed. What more do you want?”

“Right now?” Adrien pretended to hum thoughtfully. “Improvise a melody, and I’ll come up with an accompaniment.”

“What key would you like?” Luka snickered.

Adrien bit his lip. “I’m kind of feeling D major…or should I be mean and ask for something in C flat or F sharp?”

Luka smacked Adrien on the arm. “D will do nicely. Ready?”

“Always.”

Luka began to play a slow, graceful melody that ebbed and flowed like a wave.

Adrien listened for a few bars to get a feel for the movement of the piece, and he was tempted to close his eyes and let Luka’s music draw him in. Luka’s songs always carried him away to warm, safe places, painting mental pictures that seemed imbued with real sensory details. Adrien could hear the crash of the waves in the song, the cawing of gulls. He could feel the warmth of the sun on his skin.

Adrien tentatively added chords under Luka’s melody line, letting the notes meld together to create a full, fleshed-out sound.

They played for several minutes until the song naturally resolved into a final closed cadence, and then they let the notes ring in the air for a moment, painting the silence of the night until they dissipated into the quiet apartment.

Luka turned to Adrien. “…I’ve missed this,” he whispered as if speaking too loudly would break the spell. “Playing with you, creating music together has always been one of my favourite things. I’m not trying to pressure you, but…do you think this is something you want to keep doing?”

Adrien bit his lip. “Sometimes,” he decided. “Not all the time. Just…when I want to. Like tonight.”

Luka nodded, satisfied. “Well, feel free to borrow the keyboard indefinitely.”

Adrien looked up at Luka with an arched eyebrow. “You don’t need it?”

Luka shook his head. “Not since you bought me a nice baby grand to practice on.”

Slowly, Adrien began to nod. “All right. I’ll borrow the keyboard indefinitely.”

Luka tried to put a dampener on his pleased grin but failed.

Adrien rolled his eyes, turning off the keyboard. “Come on. Back to bed. I’m going to be a zombie in class tomorrow as it is.”

“But that’s why you don’t schedule your classes before ten AM,” Luka snickered, tussling Adrien’s hair as they got up and headed back to the bedroom.

They slipped under the covers, and Luka was just about to drift off when Adrien spoke hesitantly.

“I had a really weird dream.”

“Hm?” Luka prompted, trying to fight off drowsiness.

“My mom and father and Marinette were there. And Ladybug,” he tacked on. “And no one hated me.”

“What was weird about the dream?” Luka mumbled, inching closer to Adrien.

“That no one hated me,” Adrien answered, cheeks burning.

“Adrien, that’s not weird. No one hates you,” Luka sighed.

Adrien bit his lip, rolling over to face Luka. “Katsuragi-sensei says that I need to work on forgiving myself and letting go.”

Luka gave a half-amused snort. “She’s not wrong.”

“I was thinking…maybe a part of that is working through the feelings…maybe…like how I used to play Chopin when I was upset and then I felt better because I’d given my feelings a kind of more concrete form. Maybe I need to do that.”

Luka forced his eyes open to really look at Adrien. “I think that’s a great idea. It couldn’t hurt so long as you didn’t start obsessing over it too much. Ruminating is bad, but if you can work through your emotions and get it all out…that could be really good.”

Adrien nodded. “In my dream, I was playing Ravel with my father, and it was really nice…. I think…maybe…I could do a piano recital or something. Like…a private one. Just for me. Just to kind of give myself a deadline…so that I don’t ruminate.”

Luka grinned, reaching out to smooth Adrien’s hair. “I think you need to start doing more things just because they’re something you want to do,” he encouraged. “If you want to do a piano recital, if you think it will help, go for it…and let me know if you ever need any kind of help or support. I’m here for you. Nino too, I’m sure,” he added a tad awkwardly.

Adrien chuckled. “Because Nino loves me?”

True to his word, Luka had been reminding Adrien periodically throughout the evening that Nino, even though he was not currently present, loved Adrien.

Luka’s cheeks began to take on a wine-red hue in the dark. “Y-Yeah.” He gulped. “Nino loves you.”

A sly smile snaked its way across Adrien’s lips as he snuggled up to Luka, resting his head on Luka’s shoulder, letting himself indulge. “I love Nino too,” Adrien hummed, slowly drifting off to sleep to the sound of Luka’s breath and heartbeat and the pine scent of Luka’s bodywash.

Chapter Text

Upon waking the next morning, doing a piano recital to process his feelings seemed like a dumb idea, too simplistic. Adrien was aware that he had massive issues: trauma, anxiety, depression, low self-esteem. He had a history of being abused and neglected. One piano recital wasn’t going to change any of that.

“Maybe not,” Nino replied thoughtfully through a mouthful of falafel. “But it could be a first step.”

“A first step,” Adrien echoed, picking at his own falafel wrap.

“Yeah,” Nino encouraged. “Mec, you have to start somewhere.”

“Leaving the house was starting somewhere. Going to therapy was me starting somewhere,” Adrien grumbled.

Nino kicked Adrien’s foot under the table. “That was phase one. That was to get you stable and functioning and just…kind of okay with being alive.”

“So this is phase two?” Adrien hummed. “What does phase two involve, do you think? I’d kind of like to know what I’m signing myself up for because phase one kicked my butt.”

“Phase two is where you don’t just survive but start to thrive again,” Nino detailed. “You let go of all the garbage that’s holding you back and you go live a good life that makes you happy.”

“Hm.” Adrien took a bite of his falafel and chewed. “Sounds like a lot of work.”

“You’re worth it,” Nino assured.

Adrien looked down at the table. “I’m glad one of us thinks so.”

“Mec, on that issue, you’re in the minority,” Nino chuckled. “Ask anybody. Ask Luka. I know for a fact that he has songs he could sing you on that topic.”

“Don’t tease me,” Adrien grumbled, balling up his falafel wrapper and throwing it at Nino. Adrien’s aim with his right hand wasn’t the best, so he missed and hit the microwave behind Nino instead.

Nino clicked his tongue.

Adrien silently fumed.

Nino smirked. “Seriously. I’m not making this up.”

Adrien kicked Nino in the shin a little harder than what could strictly be considered “playful”. “I’m mentally ill. Be nice to me.”

Nino shrugged. “…So you’re really thinking about doing a piano recital?”

Adrien bit his lip. “…Yeah. I think so.”

“I think it could be a good way to process for you, if piano has helped you work through feelings before,” Doctor Katsuragi encouraged at their next meeting. “I’m so glad to hear that you’re taking initiative. You should be proud of yourself. In the past you’ve always seemed to push back against letting go of things. This could be a big step.”

“I’m kind of a dramatic person.” Adrien smiled sheepishly. “My father said that I got it from my mom. I think I mentioned that she was a stage actress. I’m very much a ‘go big or go home’ type of person. …I’m thinking…I want this to be big, but…in order to make it the way I’m imagining it, I’d need the Fox Miraculous…so I’d have to talk to Ladybug,” Adrien explained haltingly, struggling to voice the thought, to let it be real.

“And…how does that make you feel?” Katsuragi prompted.

Adrien bit his lip. “Terrified,” he confessed. “…but…I’m thinking…if I truly am to get better…talking to her is something I need to do eventually…. Get it over with, you know? I mean…she’s been telling me how much she hates me in my dreams every night for a year now. How much worse could it actually be for her to say it in real life?”

“…And when do you think you’re going to go talk to her?” Katsuragi looked at him expectantly yet patiently.

Adrien squeezed the Asterix stress ball. “Uh…soon.”

“Have you thought any more about the piano recital you were talking about?” Luka inquired casually a week later as they snuggled under the covers in Luka’s bed, Luka’s arm draping over Adrien’s hips.

Adrien pressed back so that he was flush up against Luka’s chest. “I’m at the procrastinating stage,” Adrien confessed.

“Anything I can do to help?” Luka offered, nuzzling the back of Adrien’s neck.

“C-Can you…meet a piano tuner at the Mansion?” Adrien asked in a small voice. “I…I want to use my old piano…the one my mom and I played together. I want to do the recital in my old room where I used to play for my father. I just…I think I can only go back there once. Just for the recital, so…”

“Done.” Luka assured. “Just give me a date and time. I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you,” Adrien sighed in relief, a huge weight coming off.

“Anything for you,” Luka reminded, giving Adrien a squeeze. “I’m here for you, whatever you need.”

“Thanks,” Adrien breathed, an overwhelming sense of gratitude washing over him. He felt blessed.

Several minutes later when Luka was on the brink of sleep, Adrien finally got up the courage to ask, “Does Marinette really not hate me?”

“She loves you every bit as much as I do,” Luka mumbled sleepily, too honestly.

Adrien’s heart ceased beating.

“She never stopped caring about you,” Luka added.

Adrien wanted to believe that that was true. He just…couldn’t.

Marinette slumped in her desk chair, letting out a groan.

“You’ve only been at it for five minutes,” Tikki sighed, clicking her tongue from where she lay curled up in her hiding space. “We agreed that you’d only get to work on your design project for an hour if you did an hour of study for Business afterwards. You have to do your Business assignment before you go back to the fun stuff.”

“But, Tiiiikkiiiiii,” Marinette whined, sinking even further in her seat. “It’s booooring.”

Tikki shook her head, smiling fondly at her chosen. “Marinette, it’s very important that you understand business if you’re going to have your own brand. You want to know what you’re doing so that people can’t take advantage of you.”

Marinette blew out a sigh, straightening up. “All right. I know. Time to put on my big girl dress and just do it, right?”

“Right!” Tikki cheered in encouragement. “You can do it, Marinette. I believe in you.”

“Thanks, Tikki,” Marinette giggled, scooting her chair back in and getting down to business.

She’d only been working for a minute or two when a small sound caught her attention. She reached for her phone, turning off her music so she could listen harder.

Marinette frowned. “Tikki, do you hear that?”

“Hmm? What?” the kwami asked sleepily, raising her head and looking around in disorientation.

“There. There. It’s like…tapping? On…glass?”

At first, the sound meant nothing to Marinette. It had been a little over a year since Chat Noir had last visited, and she wasn’t expecting a guest to arrive via skylight.

When the idea finally hit her, she gasped, scrambling up the ladder to her loft, racing to undo the latch.

“Chat Noir,” she breathed and then was struck speechless at the sight of him.

Adrien had really grown into the suit over the years. He’d kept the design essentially the same, but the developing musculature underneath the skin-tight leather made it apparent that, though trim and compact, Chat Noir was all muscle. Now that Marinette knew that it was Adrien, her long-time crush, under the mask, she could no longer deny that she had found her partner seriously attractive for almost as long as she’d been declining his romantic advances.

Meanwhile, as Marinette took in and appreciated twenty-year-old Chat Noir’s physique, Chat Noir was getting an eyeful of Marinette in a thin, black camisole and short, pink shorts that left her milky white thighs mostly bare. She too was compact yet obviously fit.

As soon as Chat’s brain came back online, he immediately regretted coming. He should have asked Nino. He should have just given up his ridiculous scheme. He didn’t strictly need the Fox Miraculous to do his piano recital, but…the difference the illusionary magic could make had felt worth this, worth confronting Marinette, at the time.

Now, on her balcony, looking down at her standing on her bed, hair in Multimouse buns, a Jagged Stone guitar pick on a chain nestled snuggly between her breasts…really nice breasts. Really nice push-up bra. God bless the inventor of the push-up bra and the camisole and the booty shorts.

Chat’s thoughts screeched to a stop, and he mentally smacked himself, reminding himself not to be a hormonal jerk and not to be ogling someone else’s girlfriend.

A stab of jealousy hit Chat out of nowhere when he remembered Luka. He wasn’t sure if he were jealous of Luka or Marinette or both, but…suddenly the thought that Marinette and Luka got to make love to one another—possibly on that very bed—was unbearably painful.

Adrien would never have what they had with anyone. There could be sex. Adrien could go to a bar and bring someone home and have sex, but there would never be lovemaking, so what was the point? He could never have Marinette. He could never have Luka.

There was no point.

“Chat Noir?” Marinette called hesitantly, jolting Chat back to reality.

He thought about fleeing. He thought about running back to his apartment and calling Nino to come over and stay the night with him. 

This was too much. Seeing her was too much. It felt like his chest was being torn open at the sternum.

The thought of internal organs segued automatically to a brief flashback of his father’s death.

The last thing he needed was to have a panic attack on Marinette’s balcony just to prove to her how messed up and unfit of a partner he was.

He took a deep breath and slammed down the fire doors. He swept into a bow. “Good evening, My Lady. Sorry for dropping by unannounced. May I come in?”

Marinette nearly jumped out of her skin.

He did know that she was Ladybug. Nino had confirmed that fact after the accident, but a part of Marinette had always hoped…

Chat had been on the verge of total mental shutdown when she caught him after he threw himself off of the Tower after his father. He’d been unresponsive when she dropped him off at Nino’s and her transformation ran out. She’d stayed long enough for Tikki to recharge, and, when she left, she hugged him and apologized and kissed him on the cheek. He’d looked at her almost uncomprehendingly, calling, “Princess?” as if he didn’t understand how Marinette had gotten there.

Marinette had hoped all year long that he didn’t actually know her identity, didn’t know that it was her fault his father was dead. After her Miraculous Ladybug had failed to fix everything, she knew she could never face Adrien again, knew that she couldn’t take his accusing glares, his nonverbal admonitions and spoken condemnations. She had ruined his life, taken everything from him, hurt him, and spoiled everything between them so completely. There was nothing she could possibly do to atone and win his forgiveness…so she’d been running for a whole year, trying to stay out of his way, trying not to be a visual reminder for him of that day.

But now he was standing on her balcony, and she had no choice but to finally confront how badly she’d let her partner down.

“Of course!” she squeaked, sounding much like she had in collège. “Please! Come in. Come on down.”

She moved out of the way, scurrying back down the ladder to the main part of her room, belatedly regretting what a mess it looked with pieces of her sewing projects everywhere.

Chat slowly made his way down the ladder, trying to stitch together shreds of dignity and confidence, trying to remember what Chat Noir was supposed to act like around Marinette. He wondered if it would be inappropriate to try to jump back into the dynamic they’d had before…before he had killed his father and learned that she was his Lady. If he could slip back into that role of just Minou and Princess, maybe things would be okay…at least until he got back to his apartment and called Nino to come over. It would all be a lie, but if Chat could just play that role, maybe he could survive the next few minutes.

His confidence evaporated the second his feet touched floor and he found himself very much on her home turf. Suddenly, words failed him, and he felt incredibly vulnerable.

Marinette watched as Chat shrank, arms in close at his sides, tail curled around his right calf and ankle as if giving himself a reassuring squeeze, shoulders inching up to his ears, posture rigid, eyes pointedly avoiding her. His entire body screamed how uncomfortable he felt.

“Oh!” Marinette gasped, just then realizing how scantily she was dressed. “I’m so sorry! I was just lounging around doing homework and some sewing, so I’m not really dressed. Let me just go change real quick. I’m really sorry,” Marinette called over her shoulder as she dashed to her closet to pull out some yoga pants and a Kitty Section band tee.

Chat was about to stop her, to say that wasn’t necessary, that it was his fault for dropping by without prior notice in the evening…but then he realized the seedy implications of asking a girl not to get dressed and decided against protesting.

“It’s fine. I’m sorry. It’s my fault for just showing up like this,” he mumbled, making eye contact with the whorls in the wooden boards of her floor.

“No, it’s fine,” she assured, holding the shirt and pants over her chest as she started to descend through the trapdoor. “Please, take a seat. Make yourself comfortable. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Uh, no. You don’t have to do that. I won’t be here long,” he declined as she disappeared down into the living/dining/kitchen area.

That left Chat to stand awkwardly in the middle of what was obviously a very productive creative session for the budding designer. She had bolts of fabric stacked up on her chaise longue and bits of discarded lace and tulle littering her floor. Her desk was covered in sketches and reference materials as well as pins, pens, colored pencils, and sequins scattered here, there, and at odd angles. Relegated to a small area at the very end of the desk was her school notebook and Business text.

Chat raised an eyebrow, tentatively venturing closer.

It was the same book Adrien had, and it looked like they were on the same chapter.

Marinette’s phone lying next to her notebook dinged with a text, causing Chat to jump.

He saw that it was from Luka and tried to make himself look away, not read it, not invade Marinette and Luka’s privacy, but…

“chanson come over”

Chat couldn’t help but think it was a cute nickname, “Chanson”. He could hear Luka’s voice in his mind saying the word lovingly, tenderly. He wondered what Marinette called Luka. He couldn’t remember hearing her ever call him by a pet name before the accident.

He was sorely tempted to try to unlock Marinette’s phone and look at previous texts they’d exchanged. He knew it was wrong, he knew it would hurt, but he couldn’t help wanting a glimpse of the kind of intimacy they shared. If Adrien couldn’t have them, couldn’t he at least watch from the sidelines?

Another text came in: “im booored”. It was followed quickly by a third: “and i have the whole night off”.

Chat’s heart sank.

It was Wednesday. Luka had the whole night off from Adrien. Luka hadn’t meant it that way, but it came off sounding like Adrien was a job. A burden.

Chat stepped back, away from the phone, away from the desk, reasoning that that was what he got for being a snoop.

He’d have to ask Luka to stop coming over so often. He’d have to pretend to be better so that he wouldn’t be such a weight dragging his friends down. Adrien had known that Nino and Luka would rather spend nights with their girlfriends than babysitting Adrien, but seeing it written out in a text like that, behind Adrien’s back in a way, was too much.

A voice in Adrien’s head that sounded like Doctor Katsuragi remarked, “Are these thoughts that you’re having helpful or hurtful? It sounds a little bit to me like you’re mind-reading. Maybe Luka meant that he doesn’t have a gig to play tonight, so he has the whole night off”.

Chat shook his head, making his way towards the ladder, thinking that it was a mistake to come and that he should leave.

He stopped as a picture on the wall caught his eye.

Over the sewing machine, there was a photo taken not long before the accident of Adrien and Marinette in the Jardin du Luxembourg. She was sitting across his lap in one of those oddly comfortable green metal chairs spread throughout the park. The Medici Fountain was visible behind them, and they were laughing as Luka teased them and took the picture. They’d just had crêpes together and were throwing breadcrumbs to the ducks swimming in the fountain, watching the waterfowl fight for day-old pieces of Tom and Sabine’s baguette.

There were other pictures on the wall over the sewing machine: Marinette and Luka, Marinette and Alya, just Luka, group shots, and little strips of print club photos where everyone was crammed into the booth, making silly faces. Adrien was in a couple of the shots.

Chat let go of the rung of the ladder and went back over to inspect the photos more closely.

There were two of just Adrien. One was taken during a photoshoot break on a day Adrien had invited Marinette to attend when they were sixteen. The makeup and outfit made Adrien look very fey. Mysterious, whimsical, mischievous. The other photo was a candid shot. They’d had a group picnic on the Champ de Mars, and Adrien had been in the middle of a heated discussion with Luka about Puccini when he turned to Marinette to elicit agreement and she snapped his photo.

There were even a few printouts from the Ladyblog and a couple newspaper clippings of Chat Noir and Ladybug, thoughtfully arranged in a collage and lovingly framed.

Chat’s heart melted.

She still had pictures of him on her walls. Pictures in places where she’d see them every day. Multiple pictures. That couldn’t be a fluke, right? She couldn’t have simply forgotten about the photos or just not seen them. She must have intentionally left them up.

Did that mean…she didn’t really hate him after all?

“Sorry I took so long,” Marinette called as she came up through the trapdoor balancing a tea tray in one hand.

Beautiful mess that she was, Marinette stumbled, pitching forward and then overcorrecting so that she fell backwards, headed for a nasty tumble down the stairs.

Chat’s instincts kicked in before he could really think about what he was doing. The woman he loved was in danger. He simply reacted, bounding to her side, catching her around the waist, steadying her with one arm while his opposite hand grabbed the tray.

Once both of their brains finished processing the fact that the danger had passed and Marinette was fine, they moved on to cataloging all the points of contact between their bodies.

Marinette took note of the green of Chat Noir’s eyes, the way they dilated, the way they bored into hers, studying her face. She took in the slight part to his lips, the wisps of bang that had fallen into his face.

Meanwhile, Chat Noir was busy scolding himself for automatic physical responses to stimuli that he had no control over. He tried to slow his breathing in an attempt to raise the floodgate to stop his rapidly swirling emotions.

They both knew that they should pull away. They both feared that this situation was deplorable to their former partner. They couldn’t help but imagine that the other person at least resented them for their part in the accident if they didn’t outright hate them for it. Surely this was distasteful to them? But if one pulled away abruptly, one or both of them would end up with hot tea and ceramic shards all over them.

“Why don’t…you get your feet back under you, and I’ll take the tray?” Chat negotiated.

Marinette blinked back into awareness and nodded. “Y-Yes. Sorry. Thank you,” she spluttered.

Gradually, they shifted so that Marinette was steady.

“I’m removing my hand from around your waist,” Chat announced in order to give her time to adjust so that she wouldn’t fall over without his support.

“Okay,” Marinette acquiesced in a small, shy voice, her cheeks starting to bloom like delicate pink cherry blossoms.

Chat unwrapped his arm from around her and brought it up so that he could take the tea tray in both hands. “I have the tray. You can let go now,” he confirmed.

Marinette nodded and stepped away. “Thank you. I’m so sorry. Some things never change, I guess; I’m still a huge klutz.”

“Perfect people don’t need to change, My Lady,” he chuckled gently, the residual hormone spike from being so close to her and adrenaline from the close call making him feel giddy. “You’re perfect just the way you are.”

She stared at him, dumbstruck, trying to figure out how she’d slipped into an alternate dimension where Chat Noir still wanted to flirt with her. Perhaps it was just an old, unconscious habit with him?

Chat snapped back to his senses, cheeks coloring in shame as he averted his eyes and stammered, “W-Wow. Sorry. I—Ignore me. I guess I’m still a massive flirt. I apologize.—Where would you like me to set this tray?” He hoped a topic change would diffuse the situation.

“Oh!” Marinette gave a start, realizing her thoughtlessness. “Sorry! Right. Uh…” She surveyed her messy room, finding all of the usual surfaces covered in materials from her design projects.

“Oh, gosh,” she sighed in dismay. “I am so sorry. I’ve got stuff everywhere.”

“No worries,” Chat assured, as she rushed to clear a spot on the desk. “I mean, I’m the one invading your space unannounced. I’m sorry.” He looked away, cheeks burning. “I shouldn’t be here. I just…I had a favour to ask you, and…”

“It’s fine,” she insisted, waving her arms (and the sketchbook pages and magazine clippings in her hands along with them). “I don’t mind.—You can set the tray down there, please.”

“Thanks for making me tea,” he muttered bashfully as he deposited the tray where indicated on the cleared patch of her desk.

“Of course. No trouble at all. Please. Sit,” she encouraged.

He looked from the chaise covered in fabric to the extra desk chair by the sewing machine, also piled high with odd swatches of fabric, bits of lace, pin cushions, and measuring tape.

The only open seat was Marinette’s desk chair in front of her Business text and notebook.

“Um…there?” He indicated the empty chair. “But I wouldn’t want to make you stand. I…”

“Oh my God,” Marinette hissed, making Chat tense, fearing he’d angered her. “I am such a spazz,” Marinette continued, marching over to the chair by the sewing machine and proceeding to unearth it. “Yes. Please sit.”

Chat did as asked, despite his strong urge to apologize for bothering her and then bolt.

She pulled the extra chair over, sitting down and pouring him a cup of tea. “I hope orange jasmine green tea is okay.”

She held it out to him, and he noticed that her hand was trembling.

Did she think he was going to hurt her? Why was she afraid? Or maybe it was nerves? Why was she nervous?

Their hands brushed as he took the small, handle-less cup from her, and he tried not to make a big deal out of it. He tried not to get caught up in how pretty she looked as she blushed. He hoped she didn’t notice the color rising in his own cheeks.

“Thank you. Orange jasmine green tea is fine,” he replied in an attempt to be gracious.

“It always calms my nerves,” she chuckled uneasily as she poured her own cup. “Maman makes it when I’m having a bad day.”

Chat nodded, sadness welling up in his chest along with memories of his own mother. “Mint tea does that for me. My…my mom used to make me tea on bad days too.”

Marinette tensed, realizing that she’d stepped on a landmine. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” The words died in her throat. She gulped. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s…” He stopped himself before he could say that it wasn’t a big deal. That was an outright lie when Adrien was alone and miserable while Marinette still had two very loving parents and Luka’s love besides, but…that wasn’t Marinette’s fault.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” he mumbled into his teacup.

Awkward silence fell between them, and Chat tried to fight off all the negative thoughts threatening to make him cry or panic.

He attempted to look on the bright side, reminding himself that she hadn’t gone on a tirade about how he was worthless and how she hated him yet. The trip was even sort of successful because she still had pictures of him and she’d made him tea. Though, maybe the tea was for calming her own nerves, but…she wasn’t being hostile. Things were awkward, but she was trying to be a good host. She hadn’t thrown him out or slammed the door in his face. Things were going better than he’d expected.

“You…had a favour to ask me…you said?” Marinette tentatively brought him back into the present moment, looking at him sideways as she sipped at her tea.

Chat nearly choked.

“Are you okay?!” She was on her feet and patting his back in seconds.

When the coughing fit died down, she quickly pulled back, returning to her seat. “Sorry,” she squeaked. “Sorry for startling you. Sorry for touching you without your permission. I didn’t—I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay,” he assured. “I…I don’t mind.”

“Oh. Good,” she chuckled, relieved and yet still high-strung. She waited patiently for him to speak.

Chat’s tail curled defensively around his ankle once more. He took a sip of tea and then cleared his throat, preparing to voice his request.

He looked up at her and promptly lost his nerve. He looked away, eyes landing on the Business textbook.

“…Say, what professor do you have right now?” He indicated the text.

Marinette blinked. That had not been what she’d been expecting, but, to be fair, she hadn’t expected Chat Noir to come visit her again after she’d let his father die, so…

“Uh…Keller. The American woman.” Marinette winced. “Her French is perfectly fluid, but her accent is brutal.”

“Tell me about it,” Chat snickered, a ghost of a smile dimly lighting up his lips. “I have her too right now…and it looks like my class is learning the same material as yours.” He nodded to her textbook. “I like Professor Keller, but she’s a little hard to understand at times, so it’s not really helping my grade. What do you think? Are you having any trouble?” He looked at her tentatively.

Marinette bit her lip. “Understanding her? Sometimes, but when I go back through my notes and reread the chapter, it makes a lot more sense.”

Chat nodded, eyes falling to Marinette’s notebook. “Yeeeah…that hasn’t been my experience. I don’t know if I’m just bad at Business, but…I’m really struggling this year. I guess I should have taken a year off or given up or something, but I honestly think I’m only passing because people pity me or my father paid some huge bribe to the school,” he chuckled darkly.

Marinette stiffened.

Sensing that his jest had missed the mark and ruined the mood, Chat shifted gears, clearing his throat and looking up shyly to ask, “So…are you ready for the exam?”

Marinette took a swig of tea. “Uh…almost. I was actually just sitting down to do an hour of review. Tikki made me promise to study before going back to my designing projects.” She smiled awkwardly, the tension between them still palpable.

Chat opened his mouth, about to offer to leave so as to be out of her way, but then something Luka had said to him about how maybe Marinette and Adrien’s shared Business studies could be neutral ground for them to meet on came to mind.

“Would it be okay if we studied together?” The words were past his lips before he had the chance to second-guess them. “That wouldn’t make you uncomfortable, would it? Sorry. I…” He literally bit his tongue to give her space to answer.

Marinette blinked rapidly in surprise. “Uncomfortable? No. Of course not! I’d be happy to study with you.”

Chat’s heart swelled. “Wait. Really? You don’t have to. I don’t mean to pressure you.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, blowing out a sigh. “Honestly, Minou. It’s fine. It’ll be more fun than doing it by myself.” She scooted closer so that they could look on together at the textbook and her notes. “Where do you want to start?”

It took him a minute to answer, so overwhelmed was he by her automatic, natural use of her old nickname for him. “…Um… The beginning. Pretend that I’m, like, five and explain it to me. Don’t they say that the best way to make sure you understand something is to teach it to someone else?”

“Like you’re five?” she snickered.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Have mercy on me, Princess. I am seriously failing this course.”

She grimaced. “All right, but if you were really five, rather than explaining key concepts in Business, my first concern would be where—”

She cut herself off before she could complete the joke and ask where his parents were. Because they were dead. Because of her failure.

She sucked in a breath. “—you go to school because obviously you need to be moved up a few levels because you’re so smart!” she laughed unnaturally in a high, distressed-sounding voice. “Okay! Let’s get started!”

Chat blinked at Marinette for several seconds, feeling like he had missed something, but Marinette was already launching into a detailed explanation of the course from the very start, so he didn’t have much time to be puzzled.

As they got into the material and Chat began to ask questions and seek clarification on the points that had eluded him the first time around, things ceased to be awkward. They forgot their imagined conflict and fell back into their old ways. Just Minou and Princess hanging out on a Wednesday night, hitting the books. Instead of Chat helping Marinette with science like in lycée, it was Marinette giving Chat a crash course in Business.

Chapter Text

An hour and a half flew by in a flash as Chat and Marinette studied together.

“See?” Marinette snickered, giving Chat’s bell a flick. “You’re not as hopeless as you made yourself out to be. You’re smart, Chat Noir. You’ve got this. It’s probably just Professor Keller’s teaching style or her accent or something.”

“I’m betting on ‘something’,” he snorted as he finished writing down the mnemonic she’d taught him on one of the pages of loose-leaf she’d given him for taking notes. “and that ‘something’ is the fact that I’ve been a little busy trying to recover from a mental breakdown this past year,” he joked…but then realized that that wasn’t funny.

The spell between them broke as they were both reminded that they weren’t just Minou and Princess anymore. There was Adrien whose family was dead or in jail and Ladybug who had helped them all get there. There was Chat Noir who accidentally caused his father’s death and Marinette who couldn’t do anything as her friend’s life spun wildly out of control.

“Sorry,” he whispered. He wasn’t sure why he whispered. It just felt like the right tone of voice for the fragility of the word, the way he was feeling.

“It’s okay,” Marinette reciprocated down to the volume level. “Me too. I’m sorry too. I—”

“—Marinette!” Sabine called up from the bottom of the stairs. “Dinner!”

The two blinked at one another for a minute, completely thrown by the interruption.

Chat looked away first. His gaze dropped to the notes he’d taken as he stood and began to fold them up. “I should go. Thank you for letting me take up so much of your time.”

Marinette rose to her feet, reaching out to rest a hand on his forearm. “Chat Noir…I…It was no trouble. I enjoyed studying with you. We should…do it again next week?”

He looked up at her in complete bafflement. “What? Really?”

She withdrew her hand, looking down and to the side and blushing madly. “If that’s something you’re comfortable with. I’d be happy to have you.”

“You would?” Chat gaped at her, still caught up in total astonishment. “You’d be comfortable with that?”

She nodded shyly, forcing herself to look him in the eye. “You don’t make me uncomfortable. Not truly. I mean, awkward and frazzled, yes, but…not actually uncomfortable…. Do you feel uncomfortable around me?”

He shook his head. “Just…nervous. A little out of my element, but not uncomfortable.”

“Oh.” Her face lit up in a dazzling smile as her cheeks supplied contrast in a warm, rosy hue. “Good. That’s…I’m really, really glad to hear that.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled giddily, a grin forming on his own lips. “Me too. I thought that that was why you’d been avoiding me. I thought…”

“No!” She shook her head violently, waving her arms too for good measure. “No! Not at all. I was trying to stay out of your way because I thought that I made you uncomfortable.”

“No, Princess,” he assured in a soft, verbal caress.

“Oh,” she whispered, eyes slowly tracing over his facial features, letting herself truly look at him. “…Oh, Minou…”

“Marinette!” Sabine called again.

“Stay for dinner,” Marinette blurted out, catching Chat by the hands. “Have you eaten?”

He froze, trying to recollect.

His stomach let out an audible gurgle, and Chat winced as he remembered.

“Not…today, actually.”

Marinette’s eyes went wide in concern and surprise.

“I had dinner with Nino last night, but today…” He looked away. “Today is Wednesday—fend for myself day—and I was kind of worked up about coming over to talk to you tonight, so I just…didn’t feel like eating.”

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” she inquired gently, trying not to pressure him.

He bit his lip and shrugged. “I mean…kind of? I sometimes have dinner with the Couffaines, and that’s usually okay, but…it might be a little overwhelming. I don’t know what Luka and Nino have shared with you about my current emotional state, but sometimes I burst into tears, so…I don’t want to make you guys uncomfortable if it turns out it’s too much.”

“Chat Noir, it’s fine,” she protested. “My parents and I wouldn’t mind. I don’t want to say we understand because we probably have no clue, but…we won’t be uncomfortable or think less of you for crying. So…Unless you feel uncomfortable crying in front of people.”

He shook his head and looked up to smile at her sadly. “I’ve kind of gotten used to looking ridiculous in front of other people. I’m not really self-conscious as much as I’m afraid of making other people feel uncomfortable and for that discomfort to push them away.”

Marinette nodded, giving his hands a squeeze. “You don’t have to worry about that here. I’ve had to forbid them from bothering you, otherwise they would have been in your face, making a nuisance of themselves from day one,” she snorted. 

That statement struck Chat to the core. He realized that Marinette probably thought she was helping by giving him space and keeping her parents out of his way as he had struggled to pick himself out of the rubble that had been his life when it collapsed on top of him, but…the truth was, he could have used the help and support. Tom and Sabine had always been like surrogate parents to both Adrien and Chat Noir. To lose them and Marinette AND Ladybug all at once while simultaneously trying to make sense of a world that had turned upside-down in a matter of minutes had been crippling. 

“They mean well,” Marinette continued, not noting his heavy silence. “but they’re a little intense. I mean…you remember when my father thought I liked you. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that it’s fine. No one is going to care if you start crying. My parents would be happy to have you if you want to have dinner with us.”

Chat bit his lip. “Do you happen to know what you’re having?”

She nodded, breaking into a smile at the indication of his interest. “The main dish is shrimp stir fry. The side dishes are all meatless. How strong is your stomach feeling today? Do you think you can do shrimp? I seem to remember that being something you actually liked before…uh…” Her face blanched as she trailed off.

“…The accident,” he tentatively supplied, waiting for her to scoff and accuse him of killing his father.

She nodded, eagerly latching onto the expression, relieved that he hadn’t couched it in terms such as “the day you let my father die”.

“Or, if you can’t do seafood right now, Luka and I have been cooking together a lot. We’ve been working on healthy, balanced, vegetarian dishes, and I have plenty of leftovers from our experiments in the fridge: cashew tofu curry, veggie tikka masala…I’ve got dal, kidney bean and sweet potato stew…”

Chat’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open in shock. “Wait…. You…You’ve been cooking for me? I thought it was just Luka.”

Marinette bit her lip and shrugged. “Well…at first it was just Luka and Nino working together to try to keep you fed, but…Luka was getting really stressed about you not eating, so…I started researching and talking with Mylène—you know, she’s studying to be a pediatrician, so she’s taken a lot of courses in nutrition—and I kind of worked to come up with some recipes Luka and I could make together for you, so—oh!”

Marinette gasped as Chat Noir pulled her into a crushing hug.

“Thank you,” he whispered into her hair, voice weak and wavering as he fought back tears. “Thank you for still caring about me.”

Marinette quickly got over her surprise and wrapped her own arms around him. “Oh, Chaton…. Of course…of course…. You’re my partner and my friend. I’ll never stop caring about you…if that’s okay?”

He nodded, too choked up to reply at first. “…Yeah. More than just being okay, I think I really needed to hear that. This whole time I thought—”

A loud knock came at the trapdoor, startling the two apart.

“Marinette? Did you hear me, Honey?” Sabine called again, concern in her voice.

“Sorry, Maman! I had my music on,” Marinette called back. “Down in a minute.”

Then she turned to Chat and lowered her voice. “Would you want to join us?”

Chat swallowed and nodded.

“Hey, Maman?” Marinette raised her voice once more. “I’ve actually got a friend over to study for Business. Can he stay for dinner, pretty please?”

“Of course, Dear,” Sabine chuckled. “Hurry down before it gets cold.”

“Thanks, Maman!” Marinette turned back to Chat. “Ready?”

Chat bit the inside of his cheek. “Do you think it’d be better to go as Chat or Adrien?”

Marinette pursed her lips. “Whichever way you feel more comfortable…but…I’m sure they’d be relieved to see Adrien doing well. It’d be easier to explain if you got overwhelmed too. It’s your decision, though.”

Chat’s brow creased as he weighed the pros and cons. “I kind of feel safer as Chat. It’s kind of like—well, it literally is—armor…but…I guess I don’t need armor here after all.”

Marinette shook her head. “You’re safe, Minou.”

Chat closed his eyes. “Detransformation.”

Marinette sucked in a sharp breath as the transformation dissipated, leaving her long-time crush in baggy cargo pants and a Kitty Section band tee.

She barely noticed as Plagg flew off to find Tikki.

The kwami’s magic had hidden how washed out Adrien’s complexion had become, and the mask covered the reddish-purple smudges under Adrien’s eyes. He looked sick and faded.

Adrien opened his eyes, and the once-shiny peridot pools looked dim.

She could feel her heart cracking in her chest, breaking for the pale shadow of his former self that Adrien had become. She resolved then and there to do more for him now that she knew her actions wouldn’t be entirely unwelcome, now that she knew he wouldn’t spurn her and push her away.

“Hi, Marinette,” Adrien whispered self-consciously.

“Hi, Adrien,” she giggled, a warm smile settling onto her lips and sinking into her voice. “It’s good to see you.”

He let a watery laugh escape as he looked away and raised a hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Glad you think so. I’m still debating whether or not it’s good to be seen. I know I look awful.”

Marinette reached out and gave his arm a companionable brush with two of her knuckles. “You wear ‘awful’ pretty well. It’s like back in the eighties and nineties when it was fashionable to look like a heroin addict.”

Adrien let out a snort of surprised laughter. “Well, I didn’t think I looked quite that bad.”

Marinette covered her face with a hand and groaned, “I didn’t mean to say that you look like a heroin addict.”

Adrien smirked, snickering, “I see that you still suffer from foot-in-mouth syndrome, just like back when you had that massive crush on me in collège.”

Marinette smacked him on the arm as she looked away, her shoulders rising to her ears. “Geez. Stupid cat.”

Adrien placatingly put up his hands. “Sorry. Low blow, I know, reminding you of your past bad judgment before you met Luka.”

“That wasn’t bad judgment, Adrien,” Marinette sighed, meeting his gaze.

He shrugged, avoiding her eyes.

“It wasn’t,” she insisted. “…Bad judgment is you wearing a jacket like that in summer.”

Another bout of laughter caught Adrien by surprise.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and pretended to whine, “Well, I wasn’t planning on detransforming, was I? I was just going to be here for three minutes. The jacket is like a security blanket, so sue me.” He stuck out his tongue.

Marinette rolled her eyes, inspecting the fluffy, cotton jacket with its fake fur lining the hood and collar. “Well, it’s a nice jacket, even if it is too hot to be wearing one that heavy. I picked out one just like it for Luka when he retired his old one.”

Adrien tensed.

Marinette’s brow furrowed as she caught sight of a slight defect on the right sleeve. She seized Adrien’s arm and brought the mended tear in the sleeve closer for inspection. “This is from the time I stole Luka’s jacket and accidentally got it snagged on my sewing machine. This is Luka’s jacket.”

Adrien grimaced. “Is now a bad time to mention that I occasionally steal your boyfriend’s clothes?”

Marinette gave a snort, releasing Adrien’s arm and rolling her eyes as she replied wryly, “And I bet he really gets off on seeing you in them.”

“It’s not like that between us,” Adrien rushed to assure. “He’s not cheating on you. We’re just friends. Close,” Adrien clarified, “but just friends.”

Marinette laughed again, halfway between amused and annoyed. “You are still as oblivious as ever, Beau Gosse…and Luka’s not cheating on me because he has my permission.”

Adrien’s mouth dropped open. He tried to formulate some kind of response to those assertions, but she cut him off with a kind smile and a tug on his arm.

“Come on. Let’s head downstairs so that my parents can fuss over and feed you.”

With a nod, Adrien silently followed, pushing down all the thoughts that were swirling around in his head to consider later when he was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep in the wake of all the discoveries of the past two hours.

“Maman, Papa, look who’s here,” Marinette called as they descended the narrow steps into the living/dining/kitchen area.

Tom’s eyes went wide, and Sabine gasped, bringing her hands up to her mouth. Both of them broke out into wide grins.

“Adrien!” Tom reached him first, scooping him up and spinning him around, all while crushing him in a fierce hug. “Good to see you, Son. You’ve been missed around here.”

“Th-Thanks,” Adrien croaked out, partially due to the force behind Tom’s hug but mostly due to emotion. “I’ve…I’ve missed you guys too.”

“Tom, put him down and let the rest of us have a turn,” Sabine scolded impatiently.

“You’re just jealous that I got to him first,” Tom guffawed but set Adrien down gently and released him regardless.

“You better believe I’m jealous,” his wife scoffed, taking an unresisting Adrien by the hand and tugging him over to the couch. “Sit,” she instructed. “You’re too tall.”

Adrien obeyed easily and found himself pulled into Sabine’s arms, his head coming to rest on her shoulder as she pet his hair and held him tight.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” she cooed. “We’ve missed you so much.”

Adrien wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her shoulder as he burst into tears. “S-S-Sorry,” he choked.

“No,” Sabine soothed. “None of that, Darling. You go ahead and cry. It’s all right. Isn’t that right, Tom?”

Tom came over to rub a meaty hand up and down Adrien’s back. “You go right ahead and cry, Son,” he urged in the gentle tone he had used when Marinette was little and woke up from a nightmare. “We’ll be here when you’re done.”

At that, the floodgates opened, and Adrien began to cry all the harder. It only lasted a little less than five minutes, though, and Adrien came back to himself and pulled away.

“Thanks,” he whispered, voice thick.

Tom gave him an encouraging pat on the head while Sabine took his face in her hands, wiping away tears with her thumbs.

“Oh, Xiao Mao,” she sighed. “We only wish we could do more for you.”

Adrien smiled bashfully, making eye contact with Tom and then Sabine. “I’ve really appreciated the care packages you’ve sent with Nino and Luka. Just knowing that you were thinking about me, that you cared…that was really big for me, so thank you.”

“Marinette said you needed some space,” Tom broached the subject warily. “and that we couldn’t come storm your apartment. Has that rule changed?”

“Because I’ve been on her for a year now to let you know that we’d be happy to help with whatever you needed—help with laundry or cleaning your apartment or cooking or anything at all really, if you just wanted people to eat meals with,” Sabine paused to cast a meaningful glare at her daughter.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Maman.”

Adrien couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m…good for the most part. Luka and Nino helped with the practical stuff to keep me alive. Between those two and Chloé, there’s usually someone storming my apartment, so I think I’m covered on those grounds—Not that I don’t seriously appreciate the offer.”

Tom and Sabine both nodded, assuring, “Of course. Of course.”

Adrien bit his lip. “Though…I think I would like to join you for meals sometimes…if that’s okay?”

Sabine squealed in delight, clapping her hands.

Tom gave Adrien a solid thump on the back. “You’re welcome whenever you want, Son. Our door is always open to you.”

Adrien apprehensively turned his gaze on Marinette over in the kitchen. “Is that something you’d be okay with, Marinette?”

Her eyes widened, and she put down the scraps of paper napkin she’d absentmindedly been shredding. “Adrien, I want you here whenever you want to be here. Like, I don’t even have to be home, if you ever want to just stop by. I’m so sorry that me trying to give you space made you think you weren’t welcome here.”

Adrien opened his mouth to respond, but only a stunned, “Oh” came out.

“…Well,” Sabine spoke up after the silence had stretched a bit too long to be comfortable. “At least we’ve got the misunderstanding sorted out now. Adrien is welcome here whenever he likes. Now, let’s hurry up and feed this poor boy. He’s too skinny.”

Before Adrien could really regain his mental footing, he was being marched over to the table by Sabine.

Dinner was actually a pleasant affair. After his initial emotional moment, Adrien didn’t feel as overwhelmed by the situation. There were certain points that made him feel sad or had him longing for a family like Marinette’s, but it was far more manageable than Adrien had originally anticipated.

After the meal, Adrien and Marinette helped with cleanup so that Tom and Sabine could get to bed at a decent hour to be up to open the bakery the following day. They said their goodbyes, and Adrien received round after round of hugs as Sabine and Tom admonished him to take care of himself and not be a stranger.

“Your phone numbers are still the same?” Adrien verified.

The Dupain-Chengs all nodded.

“I had to change mine after the…” Adrien’s face went ashen. “…uh…death threats, but…”

The Dupain-Chengs collectively gasped.

Adrien waved his hands. “Chloé and Luka and Nino took care of it. It wasn’t… Well… It wasn’t not a big deal, but…” Adrien shook his head. “But I’ll call you guys maybe next week sometime, and maybe we can have dinner together again?”

“Definitely,” Sabine assured.

“Whenever you want,” Tom added.

“And maybe you could come over a little early and we can all cook together,” Marinette suggested hesitantly. “Only if you want, though. No pressure. Luka mentioned that you like to help cook, so…”

Adrien nodded, a thrill of excitement going through him at being included. He’d always enjoyed helping out at the Couffaines’. “That would be fun, actually…. Maybe when I’m having one of my good days. Sometimes being around other people is too much, but…that would be nice.”

“We are always happy to have you,” Sabine insisted, giving Adrien another hug before she and Tom headed down to their bedroom to turn in for the night.

Marinette and Adrien finished cleaning up and then headed back to Marinette’s room so that Adrien could collect Plagg.

Adrien cleared his throat, feeling awkward as he watched Marinette offer Plagg a cheese tart and Tikki a chocolate chip cookie. “I should get going…but thank you for everything tonight. Helping with Business and having me for dinner and everything.”

“Of course! It was really great to see you,” Marinette exclaimed, turning back to face him with a brilliant smile. “Please do call when you feel up to it. I’d like to study with you and have dinner again…maybe be friends again? Hang out?” She hopefully put the suggestion out there.

His eyes widened. “I…uh… Yeah. I would like that…if that’s something you want?”

She nodded, expression earnest. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Adrien didn’t understand. Did she just pity him, or…? Did Marinette really want him back in her life? She didn’t hate him? Had she forgiven him for what had happened? Did she believe that he hadn’t known about his father? Had she really been avoiding him this whole time solely because she didn’t want to remind him of the accident? Was the past year only a misunderstanding after all?

“I…I’ll think about it,” Adrien decided. “I don’t…I’d like that, but…I mean, I’m sure Nino and Luka have told you what a mess I am. Some days I’m fine. Other days I…I can’t function. I’m not able to be around people, and…”

Adrien looked down at his feet. “Things are kind of complicated with you.”

Marinette nodded, biting her lip and forcing herself to accept where he was and what he felt able to do. “Okay.”

He shook his head. “I mean…I really loved you for a long time.” He peeked up at her, and Marinette couldn’t contain a small gasp.

“Both of you,” Adrien clarified. “Even after Marinette started dating Luka and even after Ladybug told me to stop hoping because she had a boyfriend, so…I have a lot of complicated feelings I need to untangle about you. Sorry.”

He looked down at her feet, his cheeks beginning to blaze grenadine. “I want to say yes, but…I don’t know if I’m healthy enough for things to go back to the way they were before—if that’s even what you want. I need…I need to talk to my therapist about all this. I’ve been so busy dealing with-with—you know—this past year that I haven’t really gotten to…dealing with my feelings for Marinette and Ladybug much.”

Marinette hesitantly stepped forward and took one of his hands in both of hers. “It’s okay. Do whatever’s best for you, okay? I’ll…I’ll be here…if and when you’re ready. …The most important thing is for you to be healthy and happy, Adrien.”

He looked her in the eye, studying her expression, trying to read the truth. He found only sincerity in her features. He nodded. “Thanks.”

She squeezed his hand and let go.

He gave her a small, uncertain smile and then called on Plagg to transform him.

“Thanks again, Princess,” Chat chuckled with a wink, feeling much more secure with his mask on. “I can see myself out.”

He turned to head up the ladder, but she caught him by the tail.

“W-Wait!”

Chat let out a startled, “Gck!” and then a groan. “Marinette, you have got to stop doing that.”

“Sorry!” she yelped, letting go of the belt. “Sorry. I just…remembered that you said you came here to ask me a favour. What was it?”

Chat tensed, swallowed, and steeled himself for her rejection. “So…this chain of events is going to sound a little odd, but just go with it. My therapist has been trying to work with me on letting go of some of the emotional baggage from my past, and Luka brought over a keyboard the other week because he thought it would help if I started to play again because I want to, and, I mean, music therapy is a thing, so…I was thinking, music has always helped me work out my feelings in the past, so maybe it would be good if I had a private piano recital where I played some pieces about the things I’m working through,” Adrien spit out in one breath and then pushed onward before she could interrupt. “I know just playing songs isn’t going to fix things, but maybe getting some of that emotion out will finally help me find some peace with my parents and what happened and-and me and all of that, so…I think doing the recital will help me feel better, so I want to do it. For the first time, I really want to do something just for me.”

He stopped and looked at her, still feeling coiled like a spring.

Marinette slowly began to nod. “That’s… Yes. Yes. You should definitely do that if you think it will help. I’m really happy you feel so passionately about this. This is really good, Minou…. What do need my help with?”

He gulped. “The Fox Miraculous.”

Marinette blinked several times, confusion slowly flowing over her face. “The Fox Miraculous?”

Chat winced. “I’d kind of like it to be more than just me playing the piano. If I could use Trixx’s illusionary magic to add a visual component…kind of like those multimedia light shows they do at Disney,” he explained. 

Marinette kept nodding, her mouth forming a little “o” as understanding came into her eyes.

Chat rushed to add, “I know it’s a little over the top, but… And I know my family has a bad track record regarding abuse of Miraculouses, so I’d understand if you don’t trust me.”

“What?” Marinette choked.

“But I swear I won’t do anything bad. I promise I didn’t know anything about what Father and Nathalie were doing, and I would never—”

“—Adrien!” Marinette cut him off, taking him by the shoulders. “Look at me.”

He did, his eyes full of confusion and anxiety, borderline fear.

Her expression, however, spoke of distress and determination with a good dose of compassion. “I know. …I know what kind of person you are, Adrien.”

He blinked, not certain he’d really heard her. “You…do?”

“Yes,” she responded vehemently. “Adrien, yes.” She paused, confusion turning to clarity. “…You didn’t hear the speech I gave the other day, did you?”

He gaped at her, feeling completely off balance. “Speech?”

Marinette shook her head. “Ladybug. The other day at the…the anniversary celebration.”

“O-Oh. No, I…” He forced himself to swallow and take a breath. “I was kind of hiding out with Luka, trying to pretend that I didn’t exist.”

With a wan smile, she gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Maybe, if you feel up to it sometime…look it up. I’m sure it’s on the Ladyblog or YouTube.” Marinette released her hold and went over to the phonograph set on top of her trunk. 

At the press of some buttons, the phonograph opened up to reveal the Miracle Box.

In a series of quick, succinct movements, Marinette retrieved the Fox Miraculous and shut the whole thing down again. She was back by his side in less than thirty seconds, holding out the octagonal box.

“How long do you think you’ll need him?” She tried to make her tone light and friendly, as, obviously, Adrien still had some misgivings about where the two stood in relation to one another.

Chat took the box with shaking hands and carefully tucked it into his left pocket. “A week…maybe two at the longest,” he informed. “I promise I’ll let you know if it will be longer than two weeks. I’m kind of hesitating right now, trying to get up my courage to just do it, but…”

She nodded, placing a reassuring hand on his upper arm. “It’s okay. Take as long as you need. Just give it back when you’re ready…or give it to Nino to return, if that’s easier.”

Chat frowned. “Not Luka?”

Marinette winced. “He doesn’t know about Ladybug.”

The lines on Chat’s forehead deepened. “You told Nino but not the guy you’re in love with?” His tone was more puzzled than accusing, but there was definitely some judgment in his voice.

Marinette shrank, stepping back and crossing her arms over her chest. “Nino figured it out when we were fifteen; I didn’t tell him. And Luka doesn’t need to know. He’s safer if no one knows that they could get to Ladybug through him. I know we were never on the same page about identity reveals, but I love him too much to put him at risk.”

“The threat is gone, isn’t it?” Chat asked uncomprehendingly.

Marinette met his gaze once more. “There are still crazy fans and regular bad guys. There are people out there who could get it into their heads to try to use my powers to cause harm, and if someone like that were to try to use Luka against me…”

Chat shuddered, imagining himself in that hypothetical situation. “Okay. I get it. I don’t think it’s fair to have a secret like that from him, but…I can understand your line of reasoning, Milady. …Besides, it’s none of my business.”

Marinette bit her lip. “Not completely. I wouldn’t say it has nothing to do with you, but…thank you for keeping an open mind, Chaton.”

He smiled weakly, giving her arm a companionable pat before turning once more towards the ladder. “Thanks for hearing me out, and thank you for all your help.”

“Of course,” she repeated for what felt like the dozenth time, knowing she’d repeat it as many times as he needed to hear it. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?—But only when you’re feeling up to it. No pressure.”

Her flustered rush finally got a genuine fond smile out of him. “Take care, Meinu. It was good to see you.”

“Likewise,” she hummed happily, warmed by his peaceful expression as he bounded up the ladder and leapt through the skylight, making his way back across town to his apartment.

Chat hopped down from his window into the great room. Removing the box holding the Fox Miraculous from his pocket and setting it down on the coffee table, he called off his transformation, and Adrien Agreste sank onto the couch face down.

Plagg landed on top of Adrien’s head and gently began to run his paw back and forth over Adrien’s hair, purring softly in an attempt to comfort his kitten.

They stayed like that for nearly twenty minutes, allowing Adrien time to attempt to assimilate the knowledge he’d gained and try to adapt.

“Kid?” Plagg softly broke into the silence. “You should probably call somebody.”

“I don’t want to bother Nino. He’s with Alya,” Adrien mumbled, raising his head a bit so that his words wouldn’t be garbled into the couch cushion.

“All right,” Plagg agreed, flying in to pull Adrien’s phone out of his back pocket. “Let’s call Luka.”

“No,” Adrien groaned, rolling over onto his side and reaching for the phone. “He’s probably with Marinette now that I’m not monopolizing her.”

Plagg gave a snort, setting the phone down on the coffee table and unlocking it, pulling up Adrien’s texts with Luka. “You don’t know that.”

“Do too,” Adrien grumbled.

Plagg rolled his eyes, typing out, “Hey, Orpheus. What are you up to?”

“Plagg,” Adrien hissed.

“Hush,” the kwami chided. “I’m not typing mushy stuff like you do. I’m soliciting information. The use of the nickname lends my message the feel of authenticity.”

Adrien blew out a snort and rolled back over, pillowing his arms and resting his forehead on top. “He’s busy.”

“Oh?” Plagg snickered. “He says that the bar he usually plays at burned down last night, so he has the whole night off.”

Adrien’s ears perked up. He raised his head, blinking in confusion, eyes filled with hope. “Really?—Hey. What are you typing?”

“I’m writing suggestive messages inviting him over so you two can finally work out the sexual tension between you,” Plagg replied matter-of-factly.

“Plagg!” Adrien lunged for the phone.

On the screen, Adrien found only: “Could you come over? I’m having a rough night, and I need you.”

Adrien glared at Plagg.

Plagg shrugged. “I never said that the messages were explicit. I mean, I didn’t specify what you needed him for, but, to my understanding of human courting rituals, ‘needing’ someone could imply ‘need to mate’. …I’m not sure he’s read that meaning into the words, though.”

Adrien’s phone dinged with Luka’s answer: “b there in ten angel”.

“You’re welcome,” Plagg huffed, going off to fetch a wheel of Brie from the fridge. “It’s up to you now to get his pants off.”

“Plagg!” Adrien hissed again, despite knowing his protests were useless.

True to his word, Luka was at Adrien’s apartment ten minutes later.

“Hey, P5,” he cooed, caressing Adrien’s face as his eyes skimmed over the boy he adored, assessing the damage. “What’s up?”

Adrien grimaced, picking up on the anxiety thinly coating Luka’s voice. “Sorry. I’m fine. Plagg was the one who texted you.”

Luka’s carefully neutral expression shifted into a frown. “He must have had some reason to text me, right? He doesn’t usually interfere unless he feels like he needs to.”

Adrien pulled Luka into a hug so that he could hide his expression. He didn’t feel capable of keeping up a good poker face at the moment.

“I’m fine. Just a little confused and overwhelmed,” Adrien whispered into Luka’s shoulder.

“You should take him into the bedroom so you can snuggle and groom each other,” Plagg suggested helpfully from the kitchen island where he had an assortment of cheeses spread out around him like subjects paying homage to their lord.

“Plagg,” Adrien groaned. “Humans don’t groom one another.”

“Do too,” Plagg snorted. “You forget I’ve been around for thousands of years, Kid. I’ve lived with plenty of humans. I’ve witnessed humans licking each other all over before.”

“Plagg, that’s not grooming,” Adrien hissed, burying his face further into Luka’s shirt.

“Oh?” Plagg played dumb, doing his best not to smirk impishly. “Well, whatever it is, maybe you two should go do that. My previous holders have always been so happy afterwards, and Adrien could definitely use some cheering up and affection.”

“Shh,” Luka comforted, lightly rubbing a hand up and down Adrien’s back. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t bother me.”

Luka looked back into the kitchen at Plagg. “Plagg, why did you think Adrien needed me?”

Plagg shrugged. “Kid, tell him who all you just had dinner with.”

Luka pulled back slightly to look Adrien questioningly in the face.

Adrien shrank, his gaze dropping to the floor. “…Marinette and her parents.”

Luka sucked in a breath. “O-Oh? How-How did that go? Are you okay? What happened?”

Adrien shook his head. “I’m just…feeling a little messed up. It…everything was totally fine. It was…like…” He pressed his lips together, trying to force his thoughts into a cohesive sentence. “Like you were right. Like everything was just a big misunderstanding and nobody hates me, nobody blames me, and…”

He pulled Luka back into his arms, curling his fingers into Luka’s shirt.

“Angel, of course no one hates you,” Luka sighed, nuzzling Adrien’s hair and squeezing him tighter.

“I didn’t believe you,” Adrien choked, tears finally beginning to fall as his whole body trembled. “I…I couldn’t believe you. And even though Marinette doesn’t hate me, she still abandoned me when I really, really needed her, so it’s not like things are okay now.—Or am I being stupid and petty? Should I just get over it? I can’t just…” Adrien shook his head, looking to Luka for guidance. “I’m not okay. I feel better now that I talked to her, but I’m not okay. I can’t force myself to just forgive and forget and be okay. Is that ridiculous?”

“No, Angel,” Luka cooed, giving Adrien another squeeze. “Nothing that you’re feeling is ridiculous. It’s okay to feel whatever you feel,” he assured.

“Sorry.” Adrien rested his head back on Luka’s shoulder. “I…I’m not okay. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, Perfect Fifth,” Luka whispered, making gentle shushing noises and carefully rocking Adrien from side to side. “It’s fine. Hey, let’s go get in bed so we can snuggle and talk about it…or maybe just snuggle and watch Disney movies until you feel better. What do you think? Rapunzel? Frozen? Both?”

“Both,” Adrien mumbled into Luka’s neck. “Tangled first.”

“All right, Angel,” Luka acquiesced, giving Adrien one last squeeze before beginning to guide him to the bedroom. “It’s going to be all right.”

Chapter Text

Alya was currently doing an internship at a local paper in the seventh arrondissement over by the Eiffel Tower and the now-abandoned Agreste Mansion. She actually had a good view of the front gate when she went out for coffee or lunch at the café on the corner.

One Thursday, Alya was running to the café when she spotted a van pulling away from the Agreste Mansion and Luka Couffaine locking up.

This was peculiar, and it was enough to make Alya forgo her caffeine fix in favour of chasing the scoop.

“Good Morning, Luka!” she called out on her approach.

Luka’s back muscles tensed, but he finished what he was doing and turned to Alya with a smile. “Good Morning.”

“Whatcha doin?” Alya tried for a friendly, lighthearted tone so as not to arouse suspicion.

Luka’s smile turned wry. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s kind of why I asked. Secret mission for your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend, Alya,” Luka sighed wearily, tired of having the same old discussion.

Alya rolled her eyes again, exaggerating the motion for Luka’s benefit, so that he would know that she wasn’t taking any of his nonsense. “Where’d you sleep last night, just out of curiosity?”

Luka averted his eyes. “…He needed me. It’s completely platonic.”

Alya gave her eyes a third roll, accentuating it with a snort. “I’ve seen the way you act with him. That’s not platonic. I know you and Marinette have this ‘understanding’,” She put the word in air quotes. “but I just want you to know that you’re not fooling anyone.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do than critique the way I handle my love life?” Luka sighed, reminding himself to breathe and not mess up the fragile truce he had with his girlfriend’s best friend.

“Yes. I just came over to inquire about the van I saw pulling away a minute ago.” Alya happily hopped back on the scent. “All things Papillon, and therefore Agreste, are in high demand right now. You’d let me in on the scoop if there was a story, wouldn’t you?” she teased.

Luka blinked and then stared in absolute amazement. “No. No, I wouldn’t,” he scoffed. “Alya, I know you love Marinette, and I know you would do anything for her, so I’m grateful to you for that, but if I had any kind of scoop—which I’m not implying that I do—you would be one of the last people I’d tell.”

Alya shifted her weight to her right side and popped her hip, resting her hand on it. She cocked an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Alya, you’re a snake,” Luka replied flatly. “I would fully expect you to sell out even Marinette, if the story was big enough. You’ve published things before that have made me question if anything is sacred. If there was any kind of scoop involving Adrien, I’d cut out my tongue before I told you. You’ve hurt enough people.”

The little muscles of Alya’s face went taut as she struggled to keep the hurt and indignation from showing.

“That was over a year ago,” she replied coolly. “I made a mistake.”

“You almost got Ladybug and that civilian girl you thought was Ladybug killed,” Luka retorted.

“I apologized,” Alya countered, trying to keep the tears out of her voice. “I learned my lesson about thinking before publishing.”

Luka clicked his tongue. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you until you prove to me that you prioritize real people over getting the scoop.”

“People can change, you know,” she snorted. “I’ve changed. I’ve learned my lesson.”

Luka shook his head. “I don’t trust you, especially not with Adrien.”

Alya put her hands up in surrender. “Fine. Whatever. I’ve got nothing to prove to you, Luka Couffaine. I know the days and weeks and months of soul-searching I did after the Ladybug Identity Debacle. I know I’ve changed.”

Luka scoffed. “Whatever you have to tell yourself to get to sleep at night.”

“I’ve changed,” she repeated with force.

“You haven’t changed at all. Those weeks and months of supposed soul searching you did didn’t stop you from selling the video you took of Adrien’s father falling to his death to all the major news outlets. It didn’t stop you from posting pictures revealing Papillon’s identity on your blog.”

“Luka, the world had a right to know Papillon’s identity,” Alya argued. “There was nothing personal about that. I was telling people the truth. And I didn’t film the whole thing. I didn’t film the end. I’m not a monster. There was nothing subjective about that story. I was just reporting the truth.”

“Oh. Sorry,” Luka responded sarcastically. “Just because it’s the truth, it’s okay to parade a very sensitive, personal, painful event out in front of the whole world. No one did that to you when your father died, Alya, but it’s okay for you to do that to someone who thought of you as a friend?”

“Don’t you bring my father’s death into this,” she snapped, quietly but dangerously. “My father wasn’t a terrorist.”

“So the grief and the trauma Adrien went through are somehow less valid because his father was an evil jerk?” Luka challenged, no longer trying to hold back.

“I’m not arguing with you about this,” Alya huffed, turning her head with a flip of her hair. “I am not a bad person, no matter what you think. I feel sorry for Adrien, for him being caught up in this, but people deserved to know the identity of the man who had been wrecking their lives and manipulating them for half a decade. As a journalist, I owed my readers the whole story. I couldn’t cover it up just because I’m friends with Papillon’s son.”

Luka crossed his arms. “People deserved to know that they were safe. You didn’t have to sic them all on Adrien like that when his world had just collapsed on top of him.”

“I didn’t!” Alya protested.

“With Gabriel dead, who did you think they were going to lash out at?” Luka snapped. “People attacked him. His phone blew up with people verbally abusing and threatening him. He got death threats, Alya. And you didn’t even stop for a second to think about how your actions would affect him. Go ahead and act all innocent, if you want, but I’m never going to forgive you for what you did to him.”

Alya’s hands curled into fists as she pointedly avoided his eyes. A sour feeling rolled around her stomach, but she refused to back down. “I’m sorry for what happened, but that wasn’t my fault. If you need a scapegoat to blame to make yourself feel better about not being able to fix everything for him, you can blame me, but I stand by what I did. People deserved to know. They were going to find out anyway; I just told them first. I didn’t lie or sensationalize it. I just told them the truth.”

Luka slowly shook his head, jaw set firmly.

Alya sighed, rolling her eyes. “So how is your boyfriend doing? Nino’s been making less emergency trips lately, so I’m guessing that means Adrien’s doing better?”

Luka bit the inside of his cheek to keep from lashing out at her. “He’s improving.”

Alya nodded, chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully. “…So what’s up with the piano tuner that was just here in that van?”

Luka let out a sarcastic bark of laughter. “I can’t believe you. You are a seriously crappy friend to him, do you know that?”

The hair on the back of Alya’s neck stood up straight. “Excuse you? What the hell? Did you wake up on the wrong side of Adrien’s bed today or what? I know you’re not my biggest fan, but you are being particularly vicious today.”

“When was the last time you even talked to Adrien?” Luka challenged.

Alya shrugged. “He was just over at our apartment a couple weeks ago. We talked then. Why?”

“Has it ever crossed your mind to call and check on him or to go visit him?” Luka pressed.

Alya crossed her arms. “He doesn’t want to talk to me. I’ve tried calling before, and he never picks up the phone. Whenever we do see each other, he gets all timid and awkward. He’s not comfortable with me like he is with you and Nino and Chloé, but that doesn’t mean I’m a crappy friend. I cook stuff for Nino to take over to him all the time, and I think there’s maybe been one or two times total over the past year when I’ve complained about Nino spending so much time with him. I think I’m allowed a blip or two when I’m so accommodating the rest of the time. Being a good friend doesn’t mean I have to see him and talk to him all the time. I’m doing my best to support him too; I’m just doing it differently than you are, and there’s nothing wrong with that, so stop acting all high and mighty, Luka.”

“If you don’t call, he thinks you don’t care. …He thinks you resent him, Alya,” Luka snorted.

Alya rolled her eyes. “No, he doesn’t. You’re being ridiculous.”

Luka shook his head slowly once more, tired of being frustrated and annoyed. “Okay. Well. Good talk. See you later.”

Luka turned abruptly, heading for his motorcycle parked alongside the gate to the Agreste Mansion.

“Go get laid!” Alya called after him. “You’re such a sourpuss cranky pants today.”

Shaking her head, Alya shrugged off the incident, heading to the café as she had originally intended.

Returning to her internship after her break, Alya threw herself into her work, not thinking about Luka’s accusations.

It wasn’t until the mid-afternoon lull that a vague feeling of guilt made itself known in Alya’s gut.

Nino too had gone off on Alya for posting the Papillon identity reveal article and accompanying pictures as well as for selling the video she’d taken of the final showdown after live-streaming it on the Ladyblog.

True, she hadn’t captured the end result of the fall, but…according to Nino, Adrien had watched the footage over and over again obsessively. Perhaps trying to come to terms with his father’s identity. Maybe hoping that the ending would be different if he watched it enough times.

Alya kind of wished that that video didn’t exist.

Nino spent their anniversary the previous year taking care of a nearly catatonic Adrien. It had been painful to watch her sweet cinnamon roll fall apart like that.

Of course she regretted having any part in that, but…it was her job to report the truth, and Papillon’s identity and death and the fact that Paris was now safe was the biggest scoop of the decade.

What choice did she have? Someone else was bound to report it eventually. Wasn’t it better for Alya to set the record straight out of the starting gate with no wild speculation or overblown lies? Alya had told the truth. Nothing more, nothing less.

Everything that had happened afterwards wasn’t her fault.

The evening didn’t get any better.

Alya was plagued by a sense of not-right-ness. She just felt inexplicably bad, and no amount of telling herself that it wasn’t her fault made the pressure ease up.

She didn’t leave the office until after dark that night (as was her custom most evenings). Her route to the train station typically took her past the Agreste Mansion and the Eiffel Tower. Where the latter was always swarming with tourists, the former was usually deserted.

Tonight, however, a lone figure in black stood at the gates, hesitating.

Alya pulled out her phone and snapped a picture reflexively before switching to video. She slowly drew closer, ducking into a shadowy outcropping in the building at the end of the block so that she could observe without being perceived.

At first she’d assumed that the person in black was a vandal or a burglar, but when she zoomed in, she spotted the Gabriel “G” logo on his athletic pants and hoodie as well as the distinctive black butterfly on his shoes.

Adrien shuddered and turned to look around, as if he sensed Alya watching him. He warily scanned the area, seemingly afraid of being caught.

It gave the impression that he was up to no good, and this confused Alya, as Adrien had every right to go into his own house.

Nathalie had signed a prenup before her marriage to Gabriel that provided her with a comfortable sum after her husband’s death (not that she could really enjoy it in jail), but Adrien had pretty much inherited everything, leaving him free to do with the Mansion, the company, and the other assets as he pleased.

So why did Adrien Agreste look like he was getting ready to break into his own Mansion? Why did he look so conflicted, so guilty, so hesitant about it?

Adrien gave the area another visual sweep, but he didn’t seem to see her. He worried at his bottom lip with his teeth and began to finger his necklace anxiously.

Alya blinked and then zoomed in on the necklace.

It looked different, but she recognized it immediately. She would eat Nino’s hat if that gold choker with the little fox charm at the center of Adrien’s throat wasn’t her Miraculous.

But…why did Adrien have it? Alya had always gotten the Miraculous from Ladybug, so she assumed that Adrien had done the same. But why would Ladybug give Adrien the Fox? According to the speech Ladybug gave on the anniversary of Papillon’s defeat, Adrien was a Miraculous holder who had fought by Ladybug’s side, so he should already have his own Miraculous that Ladybug habitually gave him when she needed his help.

Did this mean that something was going on? A new threat? Had Ladybug replaced Alya?

Alya was already coming up with dozens of theories. She couldn’t wait to get home and—…but…she couldn’t prove that the necklace Adrien was wearing really was the Fox Miraculous. What if she was wrong? (She wasn’t. She knew that she wasn’t, but…what if?)

Alya had been badly burned by publishing Lila’s lies back in collège without thoroughly vetting the information. She had weathered the storm back then due to the fact that everyone had been fooled by Lila, but now, as an adult, Alya had to be more responsible, less credulous. Her reputation was on the line, and she couldn’t risk jumping the gun. Lila had been a hard lesson, but she had done the trick. Alya would never make that mistake ever again.

Adrien turned back to the gate and resituated his hood. He stood there for a good half a minute more, just staring at the Mansion looming in front of him, and then he slumped, his shoulders drooping as if in shameful defeat.

Alya frowned, carefully following at a distance as Adrien shoved his hands in his pockets and trudged off.

Unfortunately, she lost him down a side street and spent several minutes searching, trying to pick up his trail.

She got a rare shot of Chat Noir out on the prowl, so the night wasn’t a total bust. Chat Noir sightings were few and far between nowadays, so the footage she did get helped make up for losing Adrien’s scent.

Friday night, as Alya was leaving work late, she caught sight of Adrien at the Mansion gates once more, fiddling with the necklace, looking nervous, and periodically checking his surroundings for witnesses. He only stood there a minute before giving up and walking away.

Alya followed a little more closely this time, determined to find out where he was headed.

Once again, she lost sight of him, and once again she was lucky enough to spot Chat Noir not far away, running on the rooftops.

She wondered if Chat Noir and Adrien were on some kind of special mission for Ladybug. She’d yet to see Adrien transformed, though. That was what she really needed: a good shot of the new Fox hero.

Alya didn’t typically work on Saturdays and Sundays, but she made a special trip both days to see if she could catch Adrien and Chat Noir in action. She got some more footage of Adrien standing out in front of the Mansion gate, looking like a creeper, and Chat Noir up on the rooftops, headed west towards the Trocadero.

Monday was more of the same: Adrien skulking and then pulling a disappearing act while Chat Noir patrolled the rooftops.

She actually caught Chat Noir sitting on the gable of a nearby building, looking forlorn and lost as he gazed out at the Eiffel Tower.

Tuesday was different.

Adrien stared at the gate, eyes full of determination. He gripped the bars and seemed to be taking deep breaths.

With shaking hands, Adrien pulled out the key and undid the lock.

Alya followed at a distance, peeking around the corner at the gate to make sure Adrien was inside before she briskly crossed the courtyard to the main door and carefully opened it, holding her breath, hoping the hinges wouldn’t squeak, hoping the massive door wouldn’t close with a resounding bang in the empty mansion.

She watched Adrien disappear into his room through the door to the left, and then she hurried after him, wincing as each of her footsteps echoed in the entranceway. She took the door to the right, slipping into the barren bedroom, crouching behind the skate ramp.

Adrien stood in the other doorway, trembling as he took in the space, watching specters of memories come back to life.

He closed his eyes, shook his head, and took several deep breaths. Once he opened his eyes again, he strode over to the piano with renewed determination.

He hesitantly lifted the lid and ran his hand over the keys.

“You okay, Kid?” asked a disembodied voice that Alya didn’t recognize. She thought that it must be Trixx, that her memory was betraying her. It had been a year since she had last heard her kwami’s voice, so it was possible she had forgotten, but…she didn’t think so. That wasn’t Trixx.

“No,” Adrien sighed, voice thick. “but that’s kind of why we’re here.”

“Are you ready?” asked another unseen entity.

That one was Trixx.

Adrien laughed. “No, but I don’t think I ever will be. Let’s…Let’s do this.”

Alya frowned, repositioning as she adjusted the angle of her phone.

Adrien took a deep breath and muttered, “Plagg, transform me.”

Alya almost dropped her phone.

Chapter Text

It was everything Alya could do to keep herself from gasping as the transformation swept over Adrien before her very eyes. The resulting revelation hit her like a tidal wave.

Adrien wasn’t just an auxiliary hero that Ladybug sometimes called on for aid. He was her partner, her constant companion in her fight to keep them all safe.

Adrien Agreste was Chat Noir.

Adrien had given his everything time and time again to save Paris…and what had he gotten for it? He’d sacrificed his life, lost his family, had everything taken away. Adrien had given up everything to save Paris, and Paris couldn’t be bothered to lift a finger to save Adrien afterwards.

“Trixx…” Adrien called, bringing Alya back to the present. “…Plagg…amalgamate.”

In a flash of orange light, Chat Noir’s costume changed. Instead of the black cat Alya was used to, an orange tabby stood in his place. He was definitely still a cat, but his suit was the color of Rena Rouge’s. The main difference was the fact that Chat now had two tails that twitched and whipped in anticipation.

Alya decided to dub him “Chat Rouge”, but if she had asked Adrien, he would have said that his name was Nekomata.

Adrien blew out a long breath, trying to calm himself and get his thoughts in order.

“Okay,” he whispered, voice echoing in the empty room, stripped of all of the personal touches that had made it Adrien’s.

“Okay,” he repeated, drawing the flute from the holster at the small of his back.

He raised the instrument, holding it in a way that made Alya question whether the guy had ever played a flute before.

“Mirage,” he breathed, blowing into the mouthpiece.

Suddenly, Adrien’s bedroom was gone, replaced by an auditorium full of indistinct faces blurred by the dim lighting. The piano stood alone onstage until a spotlight came on, illuminating Adrien Agreste dressed to the nines in a black tailcoat that made him look like a secret agent infiltrating a dinner party for Paris’s social elite.

The audience began to applaud as Adrien made his way to the lip of the stage to address them.

He bowed and smiled that bright grin that made people trip over themselves to make him happy.

The crowd settled, hanging on his every word.

“Good evening,” Adrien called, voice strong and confident—the voice of a consummate showman. (Alya recognized Chat Noir’s bravado immediately.) “Thank you so much for joining me tonight. I have a very special program planned, so I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

Adrien cleared his throat, eyes scanning the audience, a little of his nerves showing. “The theme of tonight’s concert is letting go and moving on. It’s about some of the most important people in my life and my sometimes-turbulent relationships with them. It’s about forgiveness…and courage and…and love.”

Adrien swallowed, the Chat persona slowly peeling away to reveal Adrien and his vulnerabilities. “I’ve picked songs that you’re probably sick of, songs that you’ve heard before over and over again, songs that probably already have a meaning for you. I’m hoping to give those songs new meanings, new contexts tonight.”

Adrien closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. When he opened them again, his confident mask was back in place, all smiles.

He chuckled sheepishly. “Sorry. You’ll have to forgive me. This concert means a lot to me, so I’m a little nervous. I just…I hope…that this will be good enough….” He paused, steeling himself. “This first piece is for my mom.”

Out of thin air, where Adrien’s bedroom windows should have been, a projection of a picture of Émilie Agreste appeared. It was a candid shot of Émilie young and laughing, a hint of mischief in her glittering green eyes.

Adrien looked up at the photo and swallowed once more. “I loved my mother. Growing up, I was really isolated. My world was so small, and she was my main source of affection and affirmation. She wasn’t perfect,” Adrien admitted, still looking at the picture and not the audience, as if he were addressing his monologue to her. “She…had a rough family life growing up, and I don’t think she really knew what she was doing, being a parent. She tried her best, though. She made mistakes. She wasn’t perfect, but I knew that she loved me.”

Adrien’s gaze dropped to the stage as he struggled to go on. “…At least…when I was little, I knew that she loved me.”

Alya shifted uneasily. Part of her realized that she shouldn’t be here listening to this. Part of her knew that there was no secret mission from Ladybug to get a scoop on, but…another part of her, the bloodhound part, couldn’t let go of this scent. Now that she’d had a taste, she needed to know what the real story was.

“My mother disappeared one day.” Adrien’s voice brought Alya back to attention, making her forget her momentary scruples. “She was sick before that, but not…not like hospitals-sick where you know someone’s going to die. Just…weak…fainting spells…fatigue…coughing…. I thought she’d left my father,” Adrien confessed in a whisper.

He looked back up, meeting the gazes of the phantom audience. “They fought. They loved each other fiercely, but they fought just as hard at night when they thought I was asleep. I thought she’d left him…and, for a long time, I thought she’d send word for me or come back with an attorney to get custody. I kept a bag packed the first two years after she disappeared…but then I started to realize that, if she really had left…she’d left me too.”

Adrien swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears under wraps. “…For four years, from the time I was fifteen to the time when I found out what had really happened, I thought that she’d stopped loving me. When I learned the truth, that she was dead…it was a huge relief because that meant she hadn’t stopped loving me after all.”

His lips pulled into a wry, self-demeaning grin as he wiped at teardrops. “I know. I’m a horrible person. What kind of son is relieved to find out that his mother is dead?”

Alya bit her tongue, temped to interrupt, to assure her friend that he wasn’t horrible.

Adrien shook his head, pressing on with determination. “But her being dead meant that she didn’t hate me, that I hadn’t done anything wrong to drive her away…that it wasn’t my fault, so…I was relieved…. Only…then it felt like losing her all over again.”

He slapped on his performer’s smile once more and refocused his speech on the audience. “This first song that I’m going to play for you encompasses all of that. I’m going to be doing the theme and variations one, two, five, seven, eight, and eleven from Mozart’s Twelve Variations on ‘Ah, Vous Dirai-Je, Maman’. Thank you.”

With another bow and amidst audience applause, Adrien made his way to the piano, flipping the tails of his jacket out behind him as he settled onto the bench.

Alya watched with interest, shifting so that she could see his face better as he began to play the theme of the piece. She was surprised to find that she recognized it as “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star”. It was a slightly fancier version than she remembered from her childhood, but the melody was undeniably the same.

The theme lasted less than a minute, and then Adrien was on to the first variation.

The picture of Émilie above the audience faded away to be replaced by the woman herself in her early thirties. Her hair was up in a messy bun held together by chopsticks, and she wore ripped jeans, a faded band t-shirt, and a leather bomber jacket. In the comfort of her own home, Émilie Agreste looked vastly different than all the official pictures Alya had ever seen of her.

Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star became a scampering, frolicking seesaw of notes as a four- or five-year-old Adrien joined his mother, darting towards her.

Both of them laughed as she picked him up and spun him around before pulling him into a tight hug. Then she put him down and started to run away, but Adrien was on her heels, giving chase in a heartbeat. He caught up and tagged her, and then it was his turn to run as she pursued him.

Alya was smiling so hard her face kind of hurt.

Adrien was an adorable kid, and she could tell how much he adored his mother by the shine in his innocent eyes. It was obvious that Émilie cherished her son as well; she had an identical glint in her own peridot eyes.

There was a brief pause in the music as Adrien moved into the second variation. It was another light, energetic, playful version of the melody.

The scene shifted, and Émilie was at the piano—the very same piano that the real Adrien was now playing—with little Adrien on her lap. She sang as she played, and Adrien sang along, resting his hands on top of hers, moving his fingers along with his mother’s.

The scene changed again, and now a slightly older Adrien was sitting at the piano while Émile hovered at his side, watching him play and offering advice and corrections gently. Adrien looked up questioningly over his shoulder at her, and she smiled brightly, nodding and laughing her encouragement. Adrien broke into an equally effulgent grin and eagerly went back to playing.

The next scene was from when Adrien was probably about ten. He and his mother were both sitting at the bench together, hands occasionally crossing over one another to access the keys they needed to play their part of the duet they were working on. They’d make mistakes and both end up cracking up. At one point, they stopped to reorient after they’d gotten muddled, and Émilie said something that had Adrien almost doubled over laughing. Soon she was laughing at him laughing, and they were both trying not to fall off of the bench.

There was another short pause as Adrien moved into the fifth variation.

At first, it appeared lighthearted like the other two before it, if not a little slower and a bit more jumpy and disjointed.

A young Adrien was running circles around his mother with that boundless energy of the young that Alya was familiar with from dealing with her twin sisters. Adrien jumped up and down, trying to get his mother’s attention as she dressed for some dinner party or another.

Émilie looked agitated as her fingers trembled, causing her to miss getting her dangly, chandelier-style earrings into her ears twice.

There was a very subtle shift in the music, accidentals making the notes sound slightly off and giving the piece a sudden sense of unease and slight foreboding.

Adrien tugged on his mother’s dress—most likely a Gabriel original—and accidentally snagged a bit of the lace.

Émilie gasped, eyes wide in horror.

Adrien shrank like a dog who had been kicked before and expected more of the same. He spewed apologies as he held his hands up to protect his face.

Émilie shrieked incoherently in her distress. It wasn’t enough that she had to get dressed up in uncomfortable clothes and be paraded around for people who thought she, a nouveau riche, was beneath them, but now her husband was going to berate her for carelessly destroying his design.

Before she could think twice, she lashed out at her son, striking him across the face.

Alya gasped.

Young Adrien sobbed apologies and begged for forgiveness.

The twenty-year-old Adrien at the piano played on impassively, expression unreadable.

Coming to herself and realizing what she had done, Émilie, looking horrified, dropped to her knees next to her son and scooped Adrien into her arms, rocking him back and forth as she began to cry.

Black rivers of mascara and eyeliner leaked down Émilie’s cheeks as she repeated, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Baby” over and over again.

The seventh variation was a bit of a trip for Alya after coming off of the previous scene between Adrien and his mother. The melody was cheerful again, light and elegant in graceful runs of notes.

Adrien and Émilie were curled up together on a couch, Émilie reading out loud to him from a thick tome as they snuggled and drank tea.

In the next scene they were on the same couch, but they were watching a Studio Ghibli movie that Alya didn’t recognize about a girl who rode wolves. Adrien and Émilie laughed at all the same parts and periodically threw popcorn at one another.

The scene after that showed a pre-teen Adrien and a tired-looking Émilie standing around a kitchen counter, sharing a large bowl of salad and sipping from mugs of piping hot tea as they chatted sedately.

Variation number eight moved into C minor, giving the piece a melancholic, hopeless feel as Émilie fainted and had to be carried to her bedroom to rest.

Thirteen-year-old Adrien stayed by her side, keeping her company as she convalesced. They played card games and watched anime on Adrien’s laptop.

Adrien fluttered around his mother as she walked outside in their garden. Worry was obvious in the creases in his forehead and the downturned line of his mouth.

Émilie put on a brave smile, coming over to take Adrien’s face in her hands and manually smooth the wrinkles of concern out.

There were more fainting spells and coughing fits, but, mixed in with them, were scenes of Adrien and Émilie at the piano playing duets, laughing and smiling. There was snuggling and movies and dinners together. There was love.

The eleventh variation was slow and dignified. It wasn’t necessarily sad, but there was a touch of wistfulness and searching in the notes.

Thirteen-year-old Adrien went to his mother’s room one day but couldn’t find her. He scoured the whole house from top to bottom, but she was nowhere to be found. The uncertainty and confusion stretched for days when Adrien’s father insisted that his mother had simply gone away for a little while but would be back soon. Days turned into weeks, and weeks became a month, and Émilie’s “going away” turned into a “disappearance”.

Adrien waited, sad but hopeful at first.

Time stretched on, turning the months into years, and hope decayed into despair, an unfillable void in the shape of his mother.

Doubts crept in. “Disappearance” became “abandonment”. Hurt dulled into resignation.

Then, a nineteen-year-old Adrien made his way into a cavernous room in the bowels of the Agreste Mansion. He looked around in equal parts awe, bewilderment, and horror as he slowly made his way across a metal catwalk.

He stopped short when he reached the suspended platform on the other side and saw the glass coffin encasing his mother. He ran to her, but she was long, long gone.

“Abandonment” became “death”…and, as a twenty-year-old Adrien slowly, delicately played the last notes of the piece, “death” started to transform into long-overdue “closure”.

Adrien sat at the piano, letting the music dissipate until the silence rang, not moving from the bench. He let himself have a moment to absorb the performance before getting to his feet with a satisfied smile and bowing as the audience cheered.

Alya added in her own wolf whistle, certain that she wouldn’t be heard over the clamor of Adrien’s adoring fans in the crowd.

“Thank you,” Adrien called, voice reverberating in the auditorium as the audience settled once more. “Thank you. I hope… No. I think—I know my mother would be proud.”

He nodded, expression tentative but getting there, as if he almost did believe those words.

“My second piece tonight is for my father.” Adrien winced. “Things were…complicated…really, really complicated.” Adrien looked up to where a stern-countenanced photograph of Gabriel Agreste was looking down (malevolently, it seemed to Alya) at him.

Adrien sighed. “I don’t know if he ever really loved me. Sometimes I thought he did…or that he must, deep down. He wasn’t really an affectionate man. He didn’t show emotion much—well…besides anger…disapproval…disappointment. He must have had some kind of feelings about me, right?”

Adrien swallowed nervously, fidgeting under the austere gaze of his father’s picture.

It was like standing at the bottom of the stairs and looking up to receive a scolding all over again, just like old times.

“He must have felt something,” Adrien repeated in a whisper. “But I’m never going to know what that something was for sure…and that’s something that I’m going to have to let go of and get over because whatever he did or didn’t feel, there’s nothing I can do to change that now. There’s no use me organizing my life in a way that I’d only be able to guess would make him proud when I don’t know for sure if he was proud of me or disappointed in me in the first place while he was alive…. That’s what my therapist keeps trying to drill into my thick skull,” Adrien admitted to the audience with a wry smile.

Adrien took a deep breath, closing his eyes and trying to re-center himself. When he opened them again, he looked calm.

He gazed up at the portrait of Gabriel. “I loved my father. He wasn’t always great, but I think he did try in his own way. Like my mother, he had a pretty rough time growing up…an abusive father…. He probably didn’t know how to be a father, and I get the feeling that I was my mom’s idea more than father’s. Still…there were times when I could tell that he was trying. Maybe he didn’t love me, but I know he didn’t hate me.”

Alya’s heart ached for her friend. She couldn’t imagine what that felt like, to not know if a parent loved you. Alya had fought with her parents, been angry, wanted to throw things and scream before, and she knew that she’d made her parents crazy too, but even during the fights and the misunderstandings, she had never doubted that there would be love and forgiveness after they had all cooled off.

She couldn’t imagine the constant uncertainty that had characterized Adrien’s relationship with his father.

“I regret a lot of things about my relationship with my father,” Adrien sighed. “That’s a lot of what this next song is about…. My chief regret is that he died before I could talk to him and really understand…anything. I still…blame myself for his death.”

Alya’s eyes widened.

“I know it was an accident,” Adrien hurried to add. “I know I didn’t push him. I know that it was kind of his fault too for detransforming and standing on the railing at the top of the Eiffel Tower like that. I know that most people would never blame me, but…” Adrien shook his head, his gaze dropping to his feet as his hands clenched at his sides. “I can’t stop wondering if things would have been different if I hadn’t said, ‘Father?’ and surprised him and distracted Ladybug. I wonder if he wouldn’t have fallen. I wonder if Ladybug would have been able to save him…. There are so many ‘what if’s.”

“Oh, Adrien,” Alya sighed softly, shaking her head.

She hadn’t realized what her friend was really going through. She’d thought it was just grief. She hadn’t known about the immense guilt weighing Adrien down. She wondered if Nino or Luka knew. She wondered if she should tell them. She thought that maybe she should.

“The next song in this evening’s program,” Adrien announced to the audience, his performer’s mask suddenly back in place. “is Pachelbel’s Canon in D. I know you all probably think of this as the song that they play at weddings, but, to me, it’s always felt kind of sad and wistful. Frankly, I hate this song,” Adrien chuckled. “I’m so sick of it. I mean, I’m probably never going to get married,” There was a slight twinge of sadness-longing-hurt on his face for just a second before he managed to cover it up with false joviality. “but if I do, this song is banned. I hate this song…” He bit his lip. “…but a part of me still really loves it too. It’s familiar and comfortable. It’s a known quantity, and there are happy memories mixed up with it. This song is a good match for my relationship with my father.”

With a bow, Adrien strode back over to the piano and began to play.

Alya hadn’t recognized the name “Pachelbel’s Canon”, but as soon as the notes began to echo in the concert hall, she immediately recognized the melody. She’d heard it at just about every wedding she’d ever attended. It was stately and dignified, not a note out of place. There was an elegant flow as the melody started to trip along with a steady ostinato supporting it from underneath.

The photograph of Gabriel Agreste faded away, leaving the man himself dressed much as usual and looking just as grim as ever.

A young Adrien joined him, holding out a drawing he had done, submitting it for judgment.

Gabriel took the picture and straightened up to study it.

Adrien fidgeted anxiously, holding his breath, hoping for a kind word of approval.

Gabriel nodded, handing the drawing back without comment before walking away, back to work.

Adrien looked down at the drawing with a frown, wondering what he could do to make it better so that it would make Father happy.

A series of scenes flowed steadily up above the audience as the notes streamed by:

A ten-year-old Adrien showing his father the trophy he’d won at the fencing competition met by an indifferent nod from Gabriel. Adrien tried to hide his hurt and disappointment at the lack of a reaction.

Adrien at the bottom of the stairs in the entryway of the Agreste Mansion as Gabriel loomed at the top, berating Adrien’s subpar performance in a photoshoot.

A fourteen-year-old Adrien in his room playing the same piano twenty-year-old Adrien now played as Gabriel listened, frowning and calling for Adrien to stop at the first sour note.

Sixteen-year-old Adrien sitting alone at a table meant to seat twenty, waiting for a father who would never join him.

Fifteen-year-old Adrien hesitating in front of the door to the atelier, wanting to show Gabriel the medal he’d won at the fencing competition but afraid of being yelled at for disturbing work that was clearly more important to his father than Adrien was.

It was scene after scene of disappointment, hurt, and inadequacy…but then, in the next scene, Gabriel was having a last look at Adrien before Adrien headed out onto the runway.

Gabriel nodded, the corners of his lips turning up ever so slightly.

A bright grin broke out on Adrien’s face, overjoyed  by the miniscule hint of his father’s approval.

The next scene was of Gabriel and fourteen-year-old Adrien at the piano together playing a duet. Adrien smiled like a sunflower, cheery and warm. Gabriel’s usually impassive face looked less stern than normal. The faint ghost of a smile hovered in the corners of his eyes.

At Gabriel and Nathalie’s wedding, a seventeen-year-old Adrien gave a toast.

Father and son caught each other’s gaze, and Adrien grinned, happy to see his father happy, ecstatic that his family was becoming whole once again.

A soft smile stretched across Gabriel’s lips.

A family breakfast with eighteen-year-old Adrien, Gabriel, and Nathalie. Nathalie and Adrien discussed Gabriel’s unhealthy coffee consumption jocosely, teasing and laughing as a sullen Gabriel sipped stubbornly at his third cup of coffee that morning.

Adrien’s nineteenth birthday, just a month before the accident. Gabriel brought an old photo album into Adrien’s room and sat down with him to go through it and share memories of Adrien’s mother. Adrien started to cry, and Gabriel wrapped an arm around Adrien’s shoulders.

Three hours Gabriel set aside to spend with Adrien. The whole time he didn’t take any calls, didn’t even look at his phone, and he didn’t seem distracted at all or like his mind was elsewhere (as was a common occurrence). For three hours, Gabriel was physically and mentally present with Adrien.

It was the best present Gabriel had ever given him.

Pachelbel’s Canon gradually resolved into stillness, Adrien lifting his hands from the keys and letting the notes ring in the auditorium.

Silent tears streamed down his face as he looked up at the illusion being projected above the audience.

It was Papillon at the top of the Eiffel Tower, backed into a corner by Chat Noir and Ladybug. He’d been disarmed, his cane-sword knocked to the ground far, far below by Chat Noir in their earlier fencing bout. His akuma army was defeated. Mayura was in police custody, and they were just waiting for her to detransform.

It was over.

So, in a last-ditch effort, Papillon climbed up on the railing as Chat Noir and Ladybug’s eyes went wide.

Chat Noir called out to him: “Don’t jump!”

“He’s bluffing,” Ladybug declared, not sounding entirely sure. “Papillon, surrender!”

Papillon let his transformation drop, and Gabriel Agreste stood in his place, arms stretching out wide in challenge, daring Ladybug and Chat Noir to come and get him.

Chat Noir’s face went pale. His mouth dropped open. He started to shake his head.

A strong wind blew from the south, and Gabriel stumbled, losing his balance.

Adrien stood up at the piano, frowning at what he was seeing. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t how he remembered it.

Up above, Chat Noir gasped, “Father?” voice sounding broken.

Ladybug’s head whipped around, and she stared at her partner, a thousand thoughts racing through her mind.

Gabriel had already been falling.

“Adrien,” he gasped, going over backwards.

Gabriel had already been falling when Chat called him “father”.

Adrien hadn’t been the reason why Gabriel fell. He’d still distracted Ladybug and delayed her rescue attempt, but…

Adrien sat back down at the piano bench, slumping, covering his face with his hands. His whole body began to shake as tears spilled through the cracks in Adrien’s fingers.

Alya watched for a minute, debating, before getting to her feet. She knew he’d be mad at her for following him and seeing something so painfully personal that was obviously meant to be private, but her cinnamon roll needed a hug. He was so much more broken than she’d ever suspected, and she couldn’t just leave him sitting there alone.

She’d just made to step out from behind the skate ramp (that transformed into part of the proscenium arch of the stage when she didn’t look too closely at the mirage) when Adrien pushed himself to his feet and strode to the edge of the stage to take his bow amidst the cheers of the audience members.

Alya bit her lip, still undecided about her course of action.

Adrien bowed once more and then resolutely wiped the tears from his eyes as he addressed the audience.

Alya got back into position to observe.

“Thank you,” Adrien called. “Thank you. I…I don’t know what my father would have thought of that performance, but…I guess it doesn’t really matter because I’m satisfied with it, and I’m the one who really counts, right?”

He looked hesitantly at the audience, searching faces he couldn’t really make out in the glare of the stage lights and the darkness of the theatre for some sign, some granting of permission.

Alya couldn’t tell if he found what he was looking for.

Adrien’s mask was suddenly back in place as he straightened and smiled at the crowd, banishing all former hints of emotional distress from his face. “The third piece I have prepared for you tonight is dedicated to the two most important girls in my life: Ladybug and Marinette.”

Pictures of both appeared above the audience.

Alya frowned, studying the photos. The way Marinette and Ladybug posed, they looked like mirror images of one another. It gave Alya a kind of surreal feeling.

Meanwhile, back on stage, Adrien sighed. “It’s complicated,” he confessed, his hand carding through his hair. “It’s unbelievably complicated. I loved Ladybug first for her determination and bravery in the face of her own fear and doubts,” Adrien explained, a fond smile surfacing on his lips.

“I fell in love with this smart, amazing girl, and I couldn’t see anything else…even when that something else was my own feelings for a sweet, selfless, talented girl I thought was just my friend.” His fond smile turned wistful.

Alya’s eyebrows rose up into her hairline.

“…Ladybug didn’t return my feelings, but I kept holding on, hoping she’d change her mind. It didn’t happen,” Adrien chuckled ruefully.

“It didn’t happen, and, in the meantime, I missed out on Marinette. She had feelings for me, but I was too caught up with Ladybug, and by the time I realized that I loved Marinette as more than a friend, it was too late.” He shook his head sadly.

Alya groaned softly at what could have been if she had only pushed Adrien and Marinette together harder. She didn’t dislike Luka, but…if given the choice, she’d pick Adrienette over Lukanette every time.

“Marinette started dating Luka,” Adrien sighed. “It hurt twice as bad because he’s one of my best friends…and I kind of have…a thing…feelings,” Adrien clarified, clearing his throat, “for him too.”

Alya clicked her tongue softly. She’d known that things between Luka and Adrien had never been platonic, despite blue boy’s adamant denials. She’d known.

“Ladybug got a boyfriend too.” Adrien sighed again, heavily. “Then it was just me…stuck, all of these feelings I didn’t know what to do with. I couldn’t forget about Ladybug, no matter how much her rejection hurt. I couldn’t stop pining for Marinette, no matter how horrible a person that made me to be looking at someone else’s—at my best friend’s—girlfriend like that…. I couldn’t move on. Years later, I still haven’t moved on. It’s still them. I think it’s always going to be them.”

He nodded, as if confirming this fact silently to himself, coming to terms with it.

Alya’s heart went out to him. She needed to talk to Nino. They needed to find Adrien a nice girl or guy to be happy with, someone who wasn’t Ladybug or Marinette or Luka, someone who wasn’t already spoken for. Adrien’s fixation on his old loves was unhealthy. There was something to be said for loyalty and constancy, but it was time that Adrien let go and found happiness elsewhere.

“It’s complicated,” Adrien whispered softly, his voice betraying the vulnerability he felt. “I still love Ladybug and Marinette, even after everything. After they abandoned me.”

Alya jumped, startled at the accusation.

“After the accident last year, when my life was falling apart, when I was devastated and grief-stricken and scared and confused and in need of help to do even the simple things like get out of bed and eat…when I needed them most, Ladybug and Marinette weren’t there,” he charged. “After the accident, Ladybug dropped me off with Nino so that he could look after me, and then she left. She didn’t come back. She didn’t call. She didn’t check on me. Marinette didn’t visit. She and her family sent over food, but…Marinette was just gone. She avoided me. She didn’t text me. She wasn’t there when I just needed someone to hold me and tell me the world wasn’t actually end—ing.”

His voice cracked as tears finally overwhelmed him. He took a minute to recover, covering his face with his hands, swiping the tears away, breathing deeply.

When he looked back up at the audience, his face was on the pale side of blotchy, but he looked calm and determined.

“I’m starting to understand that they were giving me space, trying not to be a reminder of what happened with my father, but…” He slowly shook his head. “No matter what their intentions, they still abandoned me when I most needed not to feel alone and rejected.”

Alya shifted uncomfortably. Alya’s own approach to “being there” for Adrien involved a lot of background support with practical things like making food, setting up Adrien’s bills to automatically be paid, sending him care packages, and coming over periodically to help him keep up on his cleaning and laundry. The rest of the time, Alya had been giving him space, assuming that he would call her if he ever wanted her around.

She had needed space after her own father’s death several years before; she’d assumed that Adrien would need the same…but it sounded like, more than anything, Adrien needed people.

Perhaps Luka had been right. Perhaps Alya wasn’t being the kind of friend that Adrien needed.

“I think,” Adrien continued tentatively, “that there was a misunderstanding. I think the friendship can be salvaged, but…it’s difficult because there’re a lot of complicated emotions mixed up in this. Even if I forgive her, even if we go back to how things were before between us, that’s not going to fill the void that this past year has been. There’s always going to be this hole…but…” Adrien rubbed at the back of his neck, a small smile returning to his lips. “I still love her. My Lady, my Princess…it’s hard to stay mad when she smiles at you. Despite everything, I’d still die for her every single time.”

Adrien took a deep breath. “We can’t change what happened, so all we can do is put the past behind us and move on…do better in the future…. This is Por una Cabeza by Carlos Gardel…for Ladybug and Marinette.”

With a quick half-bow, Adrien turned, retreating to the piano bench. He didn’t hesitate, immediately beginning to play.

Alya recognized the tango melody vaguely. She knew she’d heard it before, but she couldn’t exactly place it, and she wouldn’t have been able to name it if asked. It was the kind of song that was familiar from a movie or commercial.

It started off lightly, the melody unspooling and tripping along like a lovely spring day spent promenading in the Jardin du Palais Royal. It was a warm song laced with the fragrance of tulips blooming.

Ladybug was the first to appear projected above the audience. She was standing up to Papillon in the form of a monstrous mass of black butterflies shaped like a talking head.

Chat Noir looked on in awe as she attacked, purifying every last one of the butterflies, vowing to keep Paris safe. Chat knew then and there that he loved that girl, no matter whom she turned out to be.

The mood of the piece suddenly shifted, and it was all dimly lit tango hall, tempestuous seduction. Torment and passion warred in the notes, the ache of losing yourself in someone only to suffer at their hands. There was a contest of wills in the song, turning the air that carried the sound into a battleground as the parties clashed.

Ladybug rejected Chat’s advances over and over again. He kept trying, kept holding out hope. She’d turned him down brusquely at first, not realizing that he was serious, but as soon as she figured out that his feelings were genuine, her refusals became much softer.

It still hurt.

Time crept forward, and their friendship strengthened. They improved as partners and grew closer as Ladybug started to rely on him and lean on him progressively more and more.

Chat Noir got his hopes up. He read into all the little signs and signals he thought he was getting from her. Every soft look or lingering touch of her hand to his arm, every hug, every time she cried in his arms, filled him with a thrill.

He thought they were getting somewhere. He thought he had a chance.

He confessed again, another rooftop surprise ending in tragedy.

Ladybug had a boyfriend.

Ladybug had had a boyfriend for several months.

He’d tried to laugh it off, pretend he was fine, act supportive and understanding because hurt and jealousy and accusations of leading him on and betrayal didn’t look good on anyone, and he knew it.

The best he could hope for was friendship.

It felt like he had a sucking wound in this chest, like everything was being syphoned out of him like things flying out the door of an airplane midflight.

He held it together until she left, and then he didn’t bother cleaning up the picnic. He ran straight to Marinette’s and broke there on her balcony—sobbing, screaming, babbling, wailing, all of the hurt coming out at once.

Somehow, she managed to pull him inside.

He woke up the next morning in her protective embrace, her arms wrapped around him as if to shield him from all that would harm him.

If he hadn’t already been in love with Marinette, that would have done it.

Suddenly, the calm, light-hearted, lovers-dining-at-a-café-in-the-piazza, Paris-city-of-love, birds-singing-in-April theme returned.

The scene shifted to a sixteen-year-old Chat Noir and Marinette snuggling on her couch, sharing leftover pastries and laughing their heads off at the Abbot and Costello film playing on screen.

Chat turned to make a remark to Marinette, but then froze as soon as he caught sight of her: cheeks rosy, eyes glistening with tears of laughter, smile warm and fond.

Marinette was beautiful.

His heart stood still for a beat, pausing to take in her radiance.

He always felt safe around her, accepted, like he was okay the way he was, like he was enough. He loved the way she made him feel.

He was in love with Marinette.

The realization hit him out of nowhere.

He had been in love with Marinette for a very long time…if only he had figured it out sooner.

Marinette was with Luka; there was no room for Adrien.

Quick as a striking viper, the music shifted back to the turbulent romance, the push and pull, the spinning-until-you’re-dizzy, want-to-pull-your-hair-out, can’t-live-with-them-can’t-live-without-them, driving-you-crazy theme.

Alya was getting whiplash from the duality of the song.

Adrien watched Marinette and Luka from afar, pining for them, yearning to be loved the way they loved one another.

Jealousy broiled inside of him along with regret. He had only himself to blame for losing Marinette. If he had gotten over Ladybug and realized his feelings for Marinette sooner…

Meanwhile, Chat Noir tried to keep things relatively normal between himself and Ladybug. He tried to save face, but he could tell that she knew he was torn up on the inside over her.

He wished she didn’t look at him with sad eyes full of pity.

She knew she’d hurt him, and that, in turn, hurt her because, even though she didn’t return his feelings romantically, she still loved him dearly. He was still precious to her. She still cared.

Somehow, that made it all the worse.

The scene changed, and Adrien, wearing cat ears and a black domino mask, was joined by Ladybug and Marinette in matching red dresses.

The young women approached Adrien like jungle cats on the prowl getting ready to pounce on their prey, and, suddenly, the three began to tango.

They weaved in and out, Ladybug and Marinette circling Adrien in their dance as he tried to keep up, dancing now with one, then with the other. They spun in and out of his arms in intricate patterns as if they were both of one mind.

The way they looked at him was intense, predatory. Adrien was definitely on the menu.

They advanced and retreated, always circling, switching position, trading places, push and pull, building the tension between the three even as the commanding tune played on.

But then the tempestuous melody slowed, becoming softer, progressively more bare, stripped down, and vulnerable.

There was a short pause in the music, and then the melody sounded melancholy, hurt, wistful. There was an aching pain of longing in the notes. The pain of a broken heart.

Ladybug and Marinette spun Adrien until he was dizzy and then stepped back, letting him stumble and fall.

He looked up at them, holding out a hand for help, but they turned their heads, pretending not to see.

He looked from one to the other, but they both pivoted on their heels and walked away in opposite directions, leaving Adrien to pick himself back up on his own as the music slowed to a stop, the notes trickling away into empty silence.

Adrien sat at the piano for a minute afterwards, allowing himself to feel the hurt and abandonment and betrayal.

Finally, he looked up and saw an image of Marinette smiling timidly at him, repeating the lines she had uttered the week before when he’d gone to ask her for the Fox Miraculous: “I’ll never stop caring about you” and “Adrien, I want you here whenever you want to be here”.

She still cared. She wanted him around. It was all just a big misunderstanding. He could have her back in his life the minute he decided to let her back in.

He took a deep breath and stood, going to the edge of the stage for another bow.

He soaked in the applause for a bit before smiling graciously and opening his mouth to speak once more.

“Thank you. Thank you all so much. It…It feels good to finally get all of these emotions out of me,” he confessed with a tentative smile and a bashful chuckle. “You know, when originally planning this concert, that was going to be the stopping point because, you know, those are the relationships that have most messed me up over the years, the most important ones that I need to come to terms with some things about and move on.”

Adrien grimaced. “But then I was thinking that that was a pretty downer ending. ‘I lost everyone. The End.’ …I started thinking…there’s one more song I need to do, one more person that I need to confront and sort things out with…. That person is me.”

He took a minute to look at the audience, scanning the room slowly, gazing at all the blurred faces staring back at him.

He inhaled deeply. “My relationship with myself is pretty complicated too. I don’t treat myself very kindly, according to my therapist. I learned from my parents to push myself and achieve excellence. Just being good was never good enough; I had to be perfect. I couldn’t let anyone see if I was upset or annoyed. There were acceptable emotions and ways of behaving and unacceptable feelings and actions. Even though my parents are gone, I’m still living by those rules, holding myself to those standards, and, over the past few years, I’ve come to realize that that’s not good. That’s not right or healthy. I’m too tough on Adrien,” he confessed with a light sigh.

“I’m mean to him, and I bully him. I beat him up when he’s already down, and I berate him because his father’s no longer there to do it, and, I mean, someone has to, right?” Adrien smiled, but it came out pained and ugly like an infected wound. “…I don’t take care of Adrien, and, if I don’t take care of Adrien, who’s going to? Luka and Nino? For the rest of my life?”

Adrien shook his head. “No. That’s not fair. They deserve better…I deserve better. I deserve my own respect and attention. I deserve…” He struggled to get the words out. “…to be happy.”

The auditorium was silent for a moment until Adrien laughed sheepishly. “Sorry.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I don’t actually believe those words yet, but-but I want to. This next song is a step on my journey to get there.”

He cleared his throat, the emotional vulnerability of moments before covered once more by his performer’s mask. “I’ve always wanted to be a Disney princess. Disney princesses come from all different backgrounds and walks of life, but they have one thing in common. They all have a problem. For Alice, it’s finding herself and finding her way home. For Jasmine, it’s finding freedom. Mulan wants to be herself and still be able to make her family proud. Ariel wants to discover new worlds. Cinderella wants to be loved and appreciated. Elsa wants to be good enough and not disappoint her parents. All Disney princesses have a problem, and through the course of their stories, they meet people and go through situations that help them to help themselves…. I always wanted to be a Disney princess so some fairy godmother would come and help me figure out what I needed to do to make my mother happy and get my father to love me and make friends and find my true love.”

Adrien chuckled to himself. “It turns out that my fairy godmother is a diminutive but mighty Japanese therapist, and she seems to think that the secret is to love myself first. So, because I’m secretly a Disney princess, I’m going to be playing Let it Go from Frozen for you tonight. But, because I’m a classically trained Disney princess, I’m going to be playing a version that splices together parts of the first movement of Vivaldi’s Winter with Let it Go. I hope you enjoy it.”

Adrien bowed to polite applause and made his way back over to the piano.

Alya didn’t recognize the intense, taut melody at first, so she assumed that the song started with a section of Vivaldi’s Winter. Then the music shifted, the tension dropping suddenly into soft vulnerability, and Adrien began to sing a tune that Alya definitely knew, even if she wasn’t familiar with the English lyrics.

Up above the audience, a series of images swirled into life. Whereas the rest of the evening had been a mixed bag of happy and heartbreaking memories, the scenes now appeared to be all positive, as if Adrien were choosing to focus only on his successes, times when he’d been proud and liked himself, times when he was content with his life.

There was a montage of time spent with his family: Gabriel and Émilie and another blonde boy who must have been Adrien’s older brother Félix all together around a table for dinner, engaging peacefully in conversation.

Émilie reading Adrien a bedtime story.

Gabriel tucking Adrien in.

Félix telling Adrien about school and his classes and letting Adrien sit on his lap as Félix showed him his homework and patiently explained what he was learning in science to a fascinated, six-year-old Adrien who dreamed of being allowed to go to school himself one day.

Adrien and Chloé playing as children, Chloé crying because her mother was never around, and Adrien pulling his friend into a hug and letting her play with his stuffed hedgehog toy, even though he wanted to play with it himself.

The scenes all played out over the backdrop of Adrien’s smooth, tenor voice gliding over the notes like a cello, infusing his own emotions, his own experiences, into the lyrics.

Even though the scenes were of positive memories, the previous three songs had provided a context and let the viewer in on what was going on behind closed doors in Adrien’s life. It was clear that he was choosing the good memories and letting go of the hurt and disappointment and loneliness and uncertainty.

Adrien at the theatre when he was seven, a fifteen-year-old Félix in the seat next to him as they watched their mother in My Fair Lady.

Another scene with just Émilie and ten-year-old Adrien at the theatre, whispering excitedly as they waited for The Pajama Game to start.

Émilie and Adrien on stage, practicing their scene together in A Doll’s House.

“Don’t let them in. Don’t let them see,” Adrien crooned. “Be the good boy you always have to be.”

There was an ironic laugh in Adrien’s voice. He had felt that pressure to always be perfect, always act as if he were on display for all to see.

Adrien’s first runway show when he was ten, nerves coming off of him like UV rays until Gabriel came up and placed a hand on his shoulder.

It wasn’t a grand gesture. It wasn’t explicit reassurance, but it was a tangible sign that Adrien wasn’t alone. With his father, a little action went a long way. This was a big show of support coming from Gabriel.

Adrien slowly relaxed, smiling up at his father in gratitude.

Gabriel nodded his acknowledgement. 

After the show, Gabriel nodded again, saying, “Do it like that next time too.” His voice was flat, not giving anything away, but Adrien read the approval in that statement. His father was letting him know that he’d done a good job.

“Yes, Père!” Adrien responded enthusiastically.

“Conceal. Don’t feel. Don’t let them know…” Adrien closed his eyes, leaning back as the emotion built into the note he held.

Abruptly, the focus of the scenes seemed to move from Adrien’s early life with his family to teenage Adrien at school with his friends.

There was meeting Nino and a scene on the steps of the school with Marinette and Adrien offering her his umbrella. The school play and Adrien feeling like a part of something. Group projects where Adrien got to collaborate with other people his age.

Meeting Kagami and commiserating with her over having a strict parent.

“…Well, now they know.” Adrien laughed self-deprecatingly.

Spa day with Chloé, doing each other’s nails and playing with her hair since Adrien couldn’t grow his own long enough to do fun braids or updos.

Meeting Luka and the many times Adrien had snuck out to see the musician, hang around on the boat, and just enjoy the peace and freedom that was possible aboard the Liberty with Luka.

Marinette.

Dozens of quick scenes with Marinette. All manner of mundane things from her giving him a macaron to her telling him Chat Noir wasn’t a sidekick. She smiled at him, kicked his butt at video games, gave him a lucky charm, helped him run around Paris avoiding his fans, gave him advice, listened as he talked, slapped him on the arm when he teased her, snuggled on the couch and watched anime with him.

It was a Cliff’s Notes version taking Adrien from seeing her as a friend to realizing he was in love. It didn’t focus on the angst of discovering his feelings too late when she was already with Luka. Instead, the scenes embraced their closeness and how precious Marinette had become to him.

“Let it go. Let it go,” Adrien sang delicately, forgiving her for her mistakes and choosing to focus on how important she had been to him, how important she could be to him in the future once he let her back into his life. He didn’t forget the pain she’d caused him, the abandonment he’d felt when he’d needed her and she wasn’t there, but he forgave and chose love instead.

The next scene showed Adrien receiving his Miraculous and meeting Plagg.

Chat Noir bounded across rooftops, feeling truly free for the first time in his life.

“Let it go. Let it go….”

The music surged, and memories of Adrien and Plagg suddenly took over the show.

“Turn away and slam the door. I don’t care what they’re going to say…”

Plagg and Adrien at several different ages played piano together, goofed around, bickered good-naturedly, gave each other a hard time, and made one another laugh.

There was a break in the song where it slid back into Vivaldi’s Winter, and Ladybug showed up once more above the audience, but only the good parts this time: learning to trust one another as partners, all of the times she’d relied on him, teasing, joking, doing “patrol” just to spend some time hanging out, late-night discussions, and easy comradery.

Then Let it Go was back, and the scene changed to Adrien, a nineteen-year-old Adrien who had just lost his father, his stepmother, his mother again, his partner, his friend, and his understanding of reality.

“…the fears that once controlled me can’t get to me at all.”

He packed up his things—or, rather, watched Nino and Luka pack up his things—and moved into his new apartment, his own space.

“No right, no wrong. No rules for me. I’m free,” twenty-year-old Adrien sang a bit ironically, a bit bitterly.

He’d gotten what he’d always wanted—freedom—but the price had been much too high. He would happily live locked up in the Agreste Mansion for the rest of his life if he could only make his family whole again, if he could only erase the horrible truth of his father’s actions.

“Let it go. Let it go. You’ll never see me cry,” Adrien declared, cheeks dry even as the projected image of Adrien curled into a ball and sobbed in Luka’s arms on the hard days.

In public, when being in public was unavoidable, Adrien kept it together, using much the mask he always had in order to put up a strong front and pretend he was okay.

“Here I stand, and here I’ll stay,” Adrien sang defiantly.

The piano part took off in a dazzling flurry of notes as up above the projection showed Adrien’s slow road to recovery over the past year.

Adrien struggling to get out of bed until he was able to get up and get dressed by himself every day.

Adrien learning how to cook, Nino, Luka, and Alya patiently teaching and averting kitchen disasters just waiting to happen.

Alya teaching Adrien how to do laundry and stopping him before he could mix the blacks and reds in with the whites.

Adrien receiving a crash course in finances and how to pay bills from Nino.

Nino and Luka going with Adrien for his first few sessions of therapy until he was able to go by himself.

“I’m never going back,” Adrien avowed, voice a bit choked but managing to sing without tears. “The past is in the past.”

The night that Luka brought the keyboard to Adrien’s apartment and Adrien played for the first time in a year.

Adrien practicing at the keyboard for the coming recital.

“Let it go. Let it go. That perfect boy is gone.” A genuine smile started to break out on Adrien’s face as he delivered the line with all of his heart behind it.

He laughed as the scene changed to Nino, Luka, and Adrien just hanging out playing video games at Adrien’s apartment, trash talking and throwing popcorn before retiring to the kitchen to make dinner together, all of them still chuckling and shoving one another, all in good spirits as Adrien forgot about his problems and was able to be a normal young adult.

The projection switched once more to Marinette and Chat Noir up in her bedroom studying Business. Adrien eating dinner with the Dupain-Chengs. Marinette wrapping her arms around Chat, wanting to be friends again.

Luka sitting at the keyboard beside Adrien and leaning in to kiss the side of Adrien’s head, whispering how proud Luka was of Adrien and then tentatively adding, “…I love you.”

Adrien didn’t verbally respond, but he dropped his head to Luka’s shoulder and nuzzled, depositing a feather-light kiss there.

Suddenly the projected image was gone, and the music launched back into the intense Winter melody, blowing Alya away with the sudden ferocity with which Adrien played, his fingers flying on the keys.

The end of the piece came as a bit of a surprise with its abrupt finality, and the auditorium was silent as the projection above the audience came back to life.

It was Chat Noir sitting at Adrien’s piano in Adrien’s room, furnished just as it had been up until the year before. The white couch was turned around to face the piano, and sitting there watching Chat’s performance were Émilie, Gabriel, Ladybug, Marinette, and a twenty-year-old Adrien.

The small audience was clapping enthusiastically with the exception of Gabriel and Adrien who were more reserved in their applause.

Chat pushed back the bench and stood from the piano, coming out in front of his viewers to bow. He smiled bashfully as he straightened up, rubbing at the back of his neck uncertainly.

Émilie rose to her feet and hurried over to wrap Chat in a crushing hug.

“That was wonderful, Honey,” she laughed, pulling back to look up into his face. “I’m so proud of you. Look at what a fine young man you’ve become.”

“Th-Thanks, Maman,” Chat struggled to get out.

She smiled and leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead. She had to go up on her tiptoes and have him bend a little to do it.

And then she was gone.

Gabriel approached next, face impassive as always.

“Père?” Chat asked nervously.

Gabriel reached out a hand and rested it on Chat’s shoulder. He didn’t say anything, but there were dozens of emotions swirling in his eyes: regret, sorrow, pride… There was approval and apologies there.

Gabriel nodded, squeezing his son’s shoulder.

Chat brought his hand up and rested it on top of his father’s, giving Gabriel’s hand a little squeeze back. “Thanks, Père,” he whispered.

Gabriel’s mouth pulled up at the corners into an almost imperceptible smile. He nodded once more and then disappeared.

Marinette and Ladybug raced over to surround Chat Noir, each of them hugging him from opposite sides.

“Oh, Minou,” Marinette cooed as Ladybug gasped, “Oh, Chaton!”

“That was wonderful,” they chorused, both pulling back to smile up at him adoringly.

Marinette laced her fingers through Chat’s. “You know I still care about you immensely, right?”

Chat nodded, not trusting his voice.

“And that you’ll always be my partner and friend?” Ladybug added.

Chat kept nodding.

“You’re really important to me,” Ladybug and Marinette insisted in stereo, leaning in to place twin kisses to his cheeks before fading into thin air.

Lastly, Adrien approached, holding out a hand for Chat to shake.

Chat took Adrien’s hand and pulled him in, clapping him on the back.

Adrien wrapped his arm around Chat, turning the gesture into a hug.

“You’re going to be okay,” Adrien whispered. “Maybe not today. Maybe not right now, but, eventually, you’re going to be okay.”

“So are you,” Chat assured with a chuckle.

The two boys pulled back, and Chat gave Adrien a wink, a salute, and a blinding smile before vanishing without a trace.

Adrien couldn’t help but smile too, thinking that maybe Chat was right. Maybe he would make it out of this after all.

The scene evaporated, and then it was just Adrien at the piano onstage, the audience anxiously waiting for his cue.

He stood and began to make his way towards the lip of the stage, and the crowd exploded into wild applause. People screamed their delight, whistled their approval, threw flowers up onto the stage, and shouted, “Bravo!” in their ecstasy.

Adrien smiled sheepishly, taking his bow. His “thank you”s were completely drowned out by the audience.

Alya added her own calls of appreciation to the din.

Adrien straightened up and looked around, slowly taking in the crowd gathered in the theatre.

His smile widened.

“Detransformation,” he whispered, and everything faded away in an instant.

Alya blinked, coming back to herself with a start. For however long the illusion had lasted, she’d been completely taken in. She’d forgotten where she really was and what she was witnessing.

She looked down at her phone, still recording, and blinked at it before turning it off.

She took a deep breath as it dawned on her that she shouldn’t be there, shouldn’t have recorded such a personal, private display. It was obvious that the show was supposed to have been purely for Adrien. She worried that her presence took something from that.

She wasn’t supposed to see Adrien’s struggle growing up. She wasn’t supposed to know that his mother had sometimes hit him or that his father really had been an absentee jerk all of Adrien’s life. Alya wasn’t supposed to know about Adrien’s complicated relationships with Ladybug and Marinette. Alya wasn’t supposed to have discovered that Adrien was Chat Noir.

She couldn’t help but think she’d stolen something from Adrien by seeing all of the secret things Adrien kept locked away in his heart and his memories. She felt sick with herself and her betrayal.

Yet, there was a part of her that whispered, “This is the scoop of the decade”.

Alya pursed her lips as she quietly snuck away, fleeing the Mansion as quickly as she dared.

She had so much to think about.

*~~~~***~~~~*

So, you may be wondering what exactly from this chapter are my original ideas and what I got from mnzknight96. For your reference, here is how mnzknight96 originally described their idea. I think you'll be able to see how I took the concept and ran a marathon with it. ^.^;

"The Adrien you have made me come to love in your stories is an Adrien that is over the top. A person who is a total drama queen but whose emotions have become more than they can repress. And Adrien being the overdramatic person he is decides to but on a performance. I was thinking a piano recital where he is the performer and the audience. It's something only for him. It's a process that he will dedicate himself to as a sort of first step to moving on. He will come up with a way to have an empty stage with a piano that has a special meaning to him. Such as a specific piano he had heard from before whenever he went to the theater with his mom."

So, obviously, my "stage" is created by Trixx's illusion magic, and the special piano I picked was the one Adrien played growing up with his parents.

"And he will perform songs about love, loyalty, disappointment and acceptance. All the while using his powers as a miraculous holder to put on a show. Adrien could somehow bribe Plagg into teaching him to use magic other than that of destruction where he creates outlines of people similar to those in his life and has them perform the ways he makes him feel. In my head he creates a version of himself and a version of the person he is dedicating his song to. It starts out with him as a kid with the second silhouette being his mother. The song is happy and upbeat as mother and son chase each other to the tune of the song until suddenly the child is left alone and the song becomes blue."

Instead of making up a new kind of magic that Plagg could teach Adrien, I decided that it made more sense for Adrien to borrow Trixx and fuse him with Plagg. That way I could just use magic and abilities already existent in the show. Instead of silhouettes, I made the characters into fully-detailed projections. That way it would be easier for Alya to tell what was going on and I could include background details and scenery too.

You'll notice that I chose the music Adrien played myself. I picked Mozart's Twelve Variations for Adrien's relationship with his mother because the tune is one we're all familiar with from childhood. For me, it evokes memories of bedtime stories and getting tucked in and singing with my parents. I think, for a lot of people, it's a song that carries with it memories of family and innocence. Mozart's Variations put a sophisticated twist on these themes, and there are variations that are more somber and melancholy, so I thought it was a good match for what I wanted to write for this scene.

"It moves onto his father with the child version of himself seeming to get bigger. The song becomes about dedication and disappointment as the silhouettes begin to argue with a teen version of Adrien being left alone once again."

Adrien kind of described my reasons for pairing Pachelbel's Canon with Gabriel. XD I love/hate this song. It is sooo overdone. They play it at every wedding ever, and I am so sick of it. It's not even a very exciting song. One of my professors played a recording with the sections played out of order, and it was kind of hard to tell. As I was listening to it, I was thinking, "That...doesn't sound quite right. I thought that other part went there, but...hmm". It's a very monotonous song...and yet it's so beautiful too. So, stately and refined. It's an elegant song because of its simplicity. It's a classic for a reason, and a passionate performance can be a very moving thing. I feel like this song has a lot of parallels with Gabriel.

"The final song would be about love as the magic changes to look like Ladybug/Marinette and they begin to dance. The dance is beautiful and magical. Until it's not, as all the rejection and hurt from the years of being unloved come to him and for the last time he is left alone."

Por una Cabeza is, like, THE tango. I think most people have heard this somewhere. Maybe in the background of a commercial or something. It's one of those songs. I really love it, though. It's so passionate and turbulent! But then it has really sweet, romantic parts too. I thought that back and forth juxtaposition was a good fit for the complicated relationship Adrien/Chat Noir has had with Marinette and Ladybug. Did you know Por una Cabeza has lyrics? It does! It's in Spanish, but it's about horse racing and being played around with and having your heart broken. And horse racing. *Shrugs* ^.^

"As the song comes to an end there is a sense of peace that seems to wash over the empty theater and the magic slowly begins to dissipate. The magic version of himself looks ahead and before it disappears completely it smiles. A genuine smile that tells the world everything will be okay and whose radiance can rival the sun. As Chat stands from his seat in front of the piano he wipes a tear away. He makes his way to the center of the stage and bows to the seats before him. Without saying anything he disappears instantly feeling like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders..."

Here's where I went a little AWOL. ^.^ I didn't feel like the songs up to that point had given Adrien adequate closure for him to be okay and hopeful for the future. This is mostly because of all the backstory that I added with Gabriel’s death and the situation with Ladybug/Marinette. I decided that Adrien really needed to do a song about his relationship with himself, and then I added the extra part with Adrien getting closure from each of the people he’d dedicated a song to.

“…but due to the overwhelming emotions he was feeling in the moment Chat was unable to sense the foxy reporter hiding as an unexpected guest in his one man show.”

When I first read that, I thought, “Wait. What? Where the heck did Alya come from?” I wrote back to mnzknight96, asking what purpose they saw Alya serving in the narrative, but they didn’t get back to me for a while, and when they did I had already formulated my own ideas and had a game plan for what I wanted to do with Alya in the story, so that’s what’s up with Alya suddenly entering the story in Chapter Five. She’ll be back to wrap things up in Chapters Seven and Ten. I’m actually working on the omake that happens between Nine and Ten right now, so I’ll be writing the Alya and Adrien scene in Chapter Ten in the next few days.

Chapter Text

Adrien released his transformation and stood there for a moment, absorbing the shock.

“Kid?” Plagg called softly, concern coating the syllable.

Adrien sank to the floor, dropping to his knees and then sitting back on his heels, body slumping.

“Kid!” Plagg gasped as Trixx yelped, “Adrien!”

Both kwamis darted down to flit anxiously around their holder.

“S-Sorry,” Adrien managed to get out through the tears that were finally overtaking him. “Just…feeling overwhelmed. Feelings. Memories,” Adrien explained. “What is reality? And…” He shook his head.

“Hey,” Plagg cooed, floating over to wipe at the tears streaming down Adrien’s cheeks. “It’s okay, Kid. Let it out. It’s okay.”

Tentatively, Trixx patted Adrien’s shoulder. He hadn’t known Plagg’s chosen long, but in the week that they’d spent together, Trixx had gathered that Adrien was a sweet, sensitive boy with a loving nature. He could see that the boy was going through a lot but hadn’t let his experiences turn him bitter. Adrien deserved compassion and understanding. Those weren’t Trixx’s strengths, but he’d picked up on the fact that Adrien appreciated physical affection, and that was something that Trixx could do.

He let Plagg verbally comfort his boy and concentrated instead on just being a physical presence, letting Adrien know he wasn’t alone through supportive pats and affectionate nuzzles.

Minutes passed, and Adrien slowly came back to himself.

“S-Sorry,” he sniffled, wiping at his face with his sleeve before reaching into his shirt pocket for a chunk of Camembert for Plagg and a carrot stick for Trixx. “Thanks, guys.”

“Don’t mention it,” Trixx assured, chomping away at his treat with gusto.

Plagg inhaled his Camembert perfunctorily, with none of his customary relish, in his haste to be able to transform again. “Come on, Kid. Let’s get you home. I’m ready when you are.”

Adrien bit his lip. “I think I need to call someone so that there’s somebody there when I get home. I don’t…” His eyebrows furrowed. “I mean, I don’t think I should be alone tonight. I’m feeling…” He let out a harsh laugh. “…a lot. I’m feeling a lot, and I’m so wired I don’t even… I need to call someone.”

Plagg nodded. “Okay. Sure. Whatever you need, Kid.”

Adrien swallowed hard, pulling out his phone with shaky hands. He noted that the clock on the home screen read just after eleven. He swallowed again. “Do you think it’s too late? It’s a weeknight. I don’t…”

Plagg flew in and took the phone, unlocking it and going into Adrien’s favourite contacts. “He’d want you to call him. He won’t care if you wake him up. He loves you, Kitten.” Plagg pressed Luka’s number and handed the phone back to Adrien.

“Hello?” a groggy voice on the other end inquired.

Adrien squeaked. “Sorry! Sorry. Did I wake you up? I’m sorry.”

“‘S’fine,” Luka slurred sleepily, and Adrien could hear the covers rustling as Luka sat up and rubbed at his eyes. “What’s wrong? What did you need?”

“Who is it?” a female voice asked tiredly in the background.

All manner of heat fled Adrien’s body, leaving him chilled. “Are you with Marinette?”

His voice sounded brittle and choked to his own ears.

“I’m so sorry,” Adrien rushed to reiterate. “Go back to sleep. It’s nothing. I’ll call Nino.”

“Adrien,” Luka called gently, sounding more awake now. “Hold on. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Go back to sleep,” Adrien insisted, voice high and panicky.

“Is he okay?” Marinette asked, and Adrien thought he detected concern in her tone, but that might have just been wishful thinking on his part. He was pretty sure Marinette didn’t hate him like he’d originally thought, but he still wasn’t entirely sure where they stood with one another.

“Does he need to come over? I can go,” Marinette offered, and Adrien’s heart melted. God, he loved her and her selfless generosity.

“You stay put,” Luka instructed, holding the phone away from his face. “I’ll go to him.”

“Do not!” Adrien yelped. “Seriously! It’s not a big deal! I’m calling Nino!”

“I’ll be over in ten, Angel,” Luka replied as if he hadn’t heard.

Suddenly Adrien’s mind slowed down, grinding to a halt. “Did you just call me ‘Angel’ in front of your girlfriend?”

Luka was silent for a beat, but then Adrien picked up on the sibilant sound of Luka chuckling. “You should hear what she calls you.”

Adrien felt like shaken snow globe. “Wait. What?”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, Perfect Fifth,” Luka assured, still laughing fondly.

“No!” Adrien practically shouted into the phone. “I’m fine! Stay where you are. You’re probably not even wearing clothes! Don’t get dressed on my account! I’m-calling-Nino-goodbye!”

The line went dead, and Luka pulled the phone away from his ear, shaking his head and smiling smittenly.

“Well?” Marinette demanded.

Luka sighed. “Nino and Alya are supposed to be marathoning Stranger Things tonight, right?”

Marinette nodded. “I think so.”

“So Adrien’s probably going to call Nino, interrupt them, apologize, and tell Nino not to worry about it because Adrien’s fine and going to call me,” Luka snorted softly.

“But that’s a lie because he already called you and thinks you’re busy,” Marinette hummed.

“So he’ll try to suck it up on his own until he ends up having a meltdown and Plagg calls me in a panic,” Luka grumbled, running a hand through his hair. “I wish he’d just accept the fact that I’m crazy about him and willing to drop pretty much anything if he needs me.”

“I still don’t think he’s used to people actually caring about him,” Marinette replied tiredly, bringing her knees up to her chest and leaning forward to rest her arms on her knees. “…Sounds like you’d better get your butt in gear. Put some clothes on and go to him.”

“On it,” Luka confirmed, leaning in for a quick kiss before climbing out of bed and going to fetch fresh clothes, not in the mood to sort through the pile littering the floor of the cabin.

“…Do you think…” Marinette chewed nervously on her lip. “…would it be okay if I came too, or…no?” She looked up at her boyfriend with hopeful eyes. “He was okay the other night when he came over last week. He said I didn’t make him uncomfortable, so…”

Luka stopped in the middle of zipping up his pants to gaze softly at the woman he loved, regret and pity filling his eyes.

“No?” Marinette sighed, all of the air coming out of her with the syllable.

Luka shook his head. “I’m sorry, Chanson…but you kind of wreck him. Maybe you two could meet up on one of his good days, but…when he’s in one of his spirals at eleven-thirty at night? I’m afraid you’d do more harm than good.”

She nodded sadly. “…Okay. Okay, but…then…could you tell him…” She nibbled on her lip, trying to piece together the right words. She’d always been rubbish at telling Adrien Agreste how she felt. “Tell him I love him.” She winced, knowing as soon as they left her mouth that the words were too direct, too intense. “Or…tell him I’m…thinking about him? I mean…that I care about him. That I’m there for him too, if-if he needs me or if he even feels comfortable—” She cut herself off with a growl of frustration. “I don’t know, Luka. Tell him whatever he needs to hear. Tell him I say hi and that he can have you whenever he needs you. Tell him it’s fine, like, really, really fine, okay?”

Luka came back over to the bed and dropped a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “I will,” he promised. “Don’t stress, Chanson.”

She burst out laughing. “Have you met me? I stress with the best of them. I stress about everything. I could win the Olympic gold medal for stressing.”

Luka sighed as he nuzzled her hair. He contemplated bringing up therapy again but decided to put that idea on the backburner because they didn’t need to have that fight again right at that moment.

“Don’t stress about this, Chanson,” he responded instead.

She shook her head, muttering, “How can I not? How can I not when I’m the one who did this to him?”

Luka didn’t think he was supposed to hear that part. He didn’t have time to challenge her assertion anyway, not when Adrien needed him, so he gave her another kiss and hurried on his way.

“Adrien?” Luka called upon entering the dark apartment.

“Bedroom!” Nino answered, voice level and calm, not a trace of panic or urgency.

Luka took that as a good sign concerning Adrien’s condition.

He toed off his shoes and made his way to the bedroom to find Nino and Adrien curled up on top of the covers, Adrien’s face half-buried in Nino’s thigh as Nino made reassuring shushing noises and played with Adrien’s hair.

Nino looked up with a tired smile. “He’s okay. He did the piano recital tonight and is just feeling kind of messed up and overwhelmed.”

Luka breathed a sigh of relief, going around to the other side and lowering himself onto the bed, crawling over to Adrien, bracketing him.

“Orpheus, you shouldn’t have come,” Adrien whined, exhaustion obvious in his voice. “I said I was fine.”

“And you were lying,” Plagg snorted.

Luka started to drag a knuckle gently up and down Adrien’s bare back from the top of his spine to the band of his pajama pants.

Adrien shivered in pleasure, a heady purr vibrating in his chest.

“Never hesitate to ask. No matter what, Angel, I will always come for you,” Luka promised, eliciting a snicker from Nino.

With a muted growl, Adrien opened his mouth and sank his teeth into Nino’s leg.

Nino yipped. “Mec! Not cool! I didn’t even say anything!”

“You were thinking it,” Adrien snorted, lifting his head and repositioning it higher up on Nino’s thigh.

Nino rolled his eyes. “Everyone was thinking it. ‘I’ll always come for you’? That was seriously homoerotic.”

“Only because your mind is in the gutter,” Adrien sniffed.

“Only because your boyfriend talks like a character from Alya’s gay porn novels,” Nino retorted.

Adrien snickered, sitting up to look Nino in the face. “Gay porn novels that you’ve apparently read?”

Nino’s cheeks darkened in the dim light of the bedroom as he averted his eyes and gave Adrien a half-hearted shove. “She reads the sexy bits out loud sometimes. I’ve been exposed to this under duress.”

“Just like how you’ve been exposed to Pretty Little Liars and Gossip Girl?” Adrien grinned like a barracuda.

“Duress!” Nino insisted, throwing up his hands.

“All right,” Luka announced, wrapping his arms around Adrien from behind and carefully pulling him back and down onto the bed to snuggle. “Thanks, Lahiffe. You’ve been invaluable, but you can go now. I’ll take things from here.”

Adrien laughed as he rolled over in Luka’s arms to face him, nuzzling Luka’s throat.

His laughter abruptly stopped, and Adrien pulled back to look down at Luka in surprise. He’d had his nose so close to Nino before that he hadn’t noticed, but…

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Luka demanded, searching Adrien’s face in panicked confusion as Adrien’s skin when pale and his pupils shrank to pinpricks.

Adrien shook his head. “Sorry. Sorry. Nothing. Just…”

“Adrien,” Nino called gently, hands going to rest on Adrien’s right shoulder and left bicep.

“You smell like…” Adrien looked away, eyes tearing up. “S-Sweat and oatmeal and strawberries and-and pastries, and—” Adrien choked. “Sorry. It’s stupid. I-I…I don’t…I shouldn’t…”

Luka cursed under his breath, scooting back and letting Nino pull Adrien in to snuggle with him again.

“Your Chat Noir senses can smell all of that?” Luka asked through gritted teeth, wondering what else Adrien could smell on him.

Adrien just nodded, fighting to put his façade back together.

Nino frowned, shooting a questioning look at Luka. “Were you with Marinette?”

Luka nodded, scrubbing his face with a hand. “Angel, I’m sorry. You want me to go?”

Adrien shook his head vehemently. “N-No. No. Sorry. It’s just…a lot of the feelings tonight were about her, so…I’m…I’m overreacting.”

“No, you’re not,” Nino sighed.

“I’m going to borrow your shower,” Luka announced, scooting over to the edge of the bed and getting up. “Back in ten.”

Adrien nodded with another whisper of “Sorry”.

When Luka returned as promised, he snuggled up to Adrien still loosely in Nino’s arms and rested his head against Adrien’s.

“Hey, P5,” he whispered. “Better now?”

Adrien chuckled weakly. “Yeah. Now you smell like you. I like your pine scent. It’s relaxing.”

“Oh?” Luka hummed. “You like it enough to sneak some of it? Because there seems to be noticeably less in the bottle than the last time I showered here.”

Adrien frowned. “I used it once the other night because your scent calms me down, but I didn’t use that much.”

“That would be my fault,” Nino fessed up with a sheepish grimace. “I ran out of my own body wash last week, so I kind of used yours. I meant to bring more over here, but…well…you know how it is, keeping up two households, making sure you’ve got clothes and toothpaste and shampoo in both places…. I kind of kept forgetting, so…” Nino gave a helpless shrug.

Luka’s eyes narrowed. “Okay. Ground rules. He can smell like me whenever he wants because, one, he’s baby, and, two, I honestly find the idea kind of hot.”

Nino rolled his eyes and gave Adrien’s arm a pinch.

“Hey,” Adrien protested, bringing up his knee to half-heartedly get Nino in the crotch.

Nino pulled his hips back, seeing the retaliatory blow coming. “Serves you right for being irresistible, Mec.”

“But you,” Luka continued irately, jabbing a finger at Nino, “get to smell like me never because the very idea is repulsive to me.”

“Glad to know I’m not your type,” Nino snorted. “The feeling is very mutual.”

“Get your own toiletries, Lahiffe,” Luka growled.

Nino replied with a little huff, “Fine. I’ll just use his until I can get more in here.”

“Isn’t that, like…scent incest?” Adrien hummed into Nino’s shoulder.

Luka’s lip pulled back in disgust. “I don’t want you smelling like him either.”

“So, Nino will just have to use bar soap until he gets more bodywash. Case closed,” Adrien ruled. “Can we talk about me now?”

“Yes,” Nino sighed in relief.

“Yes, let’s talk about you,” Luka joined in. “Are you okay?”

“Debatable,” Adrien mumbled, rolling over onto his back between them to look up at them both.

“You did the piano recital tonight?” Luka prompted.

Adrien nodded.

Luka chewed on his bottom lip, hesitating before asking, “Did you want to talk about it, or did you and Nino already do that?”

Adrien took a long, slow inhale.

Nino rolled to his side and propped himself up on one arm, gently running the other hand through Adrien’s hair.

Luka scooted in closer until his front was pressed to Adrien’s side. “Sorry.” His top arm snaked across Adrien’s waist to rest a hand on Adrien’s opposite hip. “You don’t have to talk. Would you rather be distracted?”

Adrien took another breath and shook his head. “I…Sorry. My mind is still kind of…everywhere all at once. Was Marinette mad when you left?”

Luka blinked twice, taken aback by the sudden question.

Adrien went tense, reading negative outcomes into Luka’s surprised lack of an answer. “Does she hate me now?” Adrien squeaked, beginning to tear up and tremble.

That kicked Luka’s brain back in gear.

“No!” he insisted. “No, no. Not at all, Angel. She…” He bit his tongue, forcing himself to think before he spoke. “She cares about you so much, Adrien. She actually wanted to come with me to make sure you were okay, but I told her I thought it might be a bit much for you to deal with her on one of your bad days.”

Adrien’s lips and eyes widened into “o”s of astonishment. “Really? She wanted to come see me?”

Luka nodded. “She told me to tell you…” He fished for the right one among all the things Marinette had said. “…that she said ‘hi’…and that it was really, really okay, that you could have me whenever you needed me and that she wanted to be there for you too if you ever felt comfortable going to her. She wanted you to know that you’re precious to her and she still cares about you.”

Adrien burst into tears, rolling over into Luka’s arms to bury his face in Luka’s chest.

Luka embraced Adrien tight, looking to Nino in alarm. “Do you think that was the wrong thing to say?”

Both Nino and Adrien shook their heads.

“No, Mec,” Nino sighed, reaching out to run a hand up and down Adrien’s back. “I think he really needed to hear that, even if it is a bit much emotionally right now.”

Luka nodded slowly. “Okay…. Okay. Good.”

It took several minutes for Adrien’s tears to dry up, but they eventually did.

Adrien rolled out of Luka’s arms and back on his back between his two friends to gaze up at them. “Thanks.”

“Sure thing, Bro,” Nino reassured, handing Adrien a tissue from the box on the nightstand.

“Thanks,” Adrien repeated with a giddy laugh.

He blotted at his face as he tried to stop laughing, but the feelings needed to come out somehow or another, and he was out of tears.

Nino and Luka laid there with him, petting his hair and touching his face and neck and arms lightly, until he was gradually able to stop.

“Sorry,” Adrien croaked. “Just…emotions. I feel better now. Thanks for…you know, just being here so that I don’t have to be alone. I don’t think I could stand being alone right now.”

“We got you,” Nino promised, grabbing another tissue and wiping at Adrien’s cheeks gently.

“Always,” Luka added. “…But you’re feeling better?”

Adrien nodded tiredly.

“…Do you think the piano recital helped?” Luka tentatively inquired.

“Yes. Definitely,” Adrien answered with renewed vigor. “I really needed that closure. Even if it was just Trixx’s illusion and scenes conjured up by my own mind, it felt real. It felt—”

Adrien’s voice cracked, but he smiled genuinely. “…It felt like actually seeing my parents again and getting some closure with them. It felt like actual forgiveness and actual approval and…like actually being loved. I needed that,” Adrien reiterated.

Luka smiled gently, his own eyes starting to tear up with emotion because the boy he loved was finally starting to feel okay again. “I’m so glad you got it,” he breathed.

Adrien surged up, catching Luka’s cheek in a fierce kiss. “Thank you,” Adrien whispered as he pulled back and stared into Luka’s eyes. “Thank you for bringing over the keyboard and giving me the idea and helping me make it happen.”

Luka could only nod in response. His stomach was getting all twisted up.

But then Adrien dropped back down onto the bed and rolled over on his side to snuggle up to Nino.

Luka inched in, rubbing a hand up and down Adrien’s arm.

“I think…” Adrien spoke again tentatively. “…maybe my father’s death wasn’t my fault.”

Luka and Nino took a sharp, collective inhale.

“Whoa. Seriously, Mec?” Nino pulled his head back to get a better look down at Adrien’s face.

Adrien nodded. “I think…maybe he was falling before I called out to him. I probably didn’t help by distracting Ladybug by accidentally revealing my identity, but…I don’t think I’m the reason he fell in the first place.”

Luka gave Adrien’s arm a supportive squeeze.

“Whoa,” Nino repeated. “Dude, that’s huge. I’m…I’m really glad.”

“Yeah,” Luka echoed the sentiment. “Really, really happy for you, Adrien.”

“…Any other revelations brought on by your concert?” Nino prompt after Adrien was quiet for a time.

“I want my piano back,” Adrien mumbled. “So many memories are tied up in that piano, and I want her here with me so I can play whenever I feel like it. I didn’t realize how much I missed her, but…I want my piano.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Luka promised. “I’ll call tomorrow and have her moved as soon as they can.”

“Thank you,” Adrien chuckled, a soft smile in his voice. “…I also realized that I really miss theatre.”

“Oh, yeah? Because your mom was an actor?” Nino inquired.

Adrien nodded. “She took me to shows a lot as a kid, or my brother would take me to see whatever my mom was in. I even did some acting growing up whenever a show she was in needed kids. I really miss acting…that whole world,” Adrien sighed wistfully…and then abruptly sat up, looking back and forth between his friends. “Could we go to a play? It’s been forever since I last went to the theatre.”

Nino shot Luka a suggestive look. “You should take him. Get dinner before, make a night of it.”

Luka swallowed and looked back at Adrien, hoping his cheeks weren’t as hot as they felt. “I would love to go to the theatre with you.”

Adrien immediately perked up. “Really?”

Luka nodded, trying not to get caught up in how adorable Adrien was. “Yeah. Just find a show you want to see and let me know when you want to go.”

“Yeah?” Adrien giggled, suddenly full of energy and a zest for life.

“Yeah,” Luka confirmed. “…And…Hey. Have you ever thought about taking an acting class or something?”

Adrien stilled, blinking at Luka. “An acting class?”

“Mmhm. You just said you missed acting, so…” Luka bit his bottom lip. “Have you thought about being in a community acting troupe or taking some classes just for fun, just to get back into that world? I mean, Rose is studying acting at your university, and she loves the program. Maybe talk to her, see if it sounds like something you’d want to look into. Or we could just go to plays and musicals more often,” Luka backpedaled. “Whatever you want. It was just a thought.”

“No. I mean…Yes,” Adrien replied, shaking his head. “Sorry. I…I’d forgotten that Rose was studying theatre. I’d forgotten…that that was a thing someone could do. I mean,” He shook his head more vehemently. “Obviously, I knew acting was a thing, like a career choice, but…”

He stopped talking and bit his lip, a dozen thoughts flying through his head.

“You okay, Mec?” Nino asked, bumping Adrien’s shoulder with his own.

Adrien looked back and forth between Nino and Luka. “Could I study acting? And…and be an actor like my mom?”

Nino and Luka shared a look and shrugged in tandem.

“I don’t see why not,” Luka replied.

“I mean, if you want to,” Nino added. “You’ve got money. You can afford to add a degree and stay on at uni for two more years. You can do whatever you want, Dude.”

Adrien looked to Luka as if this had never occurred to him before. “I can? Do…whatever I want? I don’t have to…you know. Study Business, take over the company, be…like my father wanted?”

“No,” Luka confirmed with a beatific smile. “No, Adrien. You can do whatever you want, whatever makes you happy. It’s your life, and that’s your choice. You don’t owe it to anyone to do things that you don’t want to do.”

Adrien sat there, letting it all sink in. Slowly, he started to nod. “I think…I need to stick with the Business degree.”

“Why do you think that?” Nino inquired curiously, keeping any kind of judgment out of his voice.

“Because if I quit now, two years in, I’ll always feel bad for not finishing something I started,” Adrien mumbled, staring down at his knees. “I know that it’s okay to stop doing things and leave things incomplete sometimes, but…for big, important things, I kind of still have my father’s voice in my head telling me that Agrestes are not quitters, so…I’ll feel guilty and regret it if I quit.”

Adrien looked up and smiled faintly at his friends. “Besides, a Business degree is a good thing to have. It’s good to be able to understand how companies work and contracts and statistics and all that stuff. It’s good for anybody, so it can’t hurt anything to keep going. The other night when Marinette was explaining everything I was supposed to have learned this term, it made a lot of sense. It wasn’t as hard as it seemed in class, so…and I wasn’t really having trouble in school before the accident, so maybe this year has just been so hard because I’ve been dealing with other stuff. Maybe I don’t suck at Business after all, and maybe if I get Marinette to keep tutoring me everything will be fine.”

“Okay.” Nino nodded, giving Adrien’s leg a supportive pat. “If that’s what you want to do, I say go for it.”

Luka laced his fingers through Adrien’s and grinned encouragingly. “I’m glad that you’re starting to make your own plans for yourself. Let me know if you need any help making it happen.”

Adrien’s face flushed. “I’m actually not sure how one goes about adding a major…but I guess I could look on the website or talk to my guidance counselor or…?”

Luka nodded, giving Adrien’s hand a squeeze. “We’ll look into it. I doubt you’ll be able to do anything this close to the end of the term, but maybe you could do a summer program and then start up full-time in September after the break.”

Adrien dropped his head to Luka’s shoulder and closed his eyes. “I am so grateful to have you in my life.”

Luka rested his head against Adrien’s. “The feeling’s mutual.”

“Do you guys want me to leave so you can snog in peace with plausible deniability?” Nino snickered.

Adrien reached out and smacked his best friend on the arm before slipping his hand into Nino’s and tugging Nino closer. “I’m really grateful for you too, Nino.”

Nino’s smirk softened into an affectionate smile. He leaned in to give Adrien’s cheek a kiss. “Love you too, Mec.”

They stayed snuggling like that for nearly a full minute before Nino spoke up again. “Any other big ideas about the direction of your life that the piano recital made you think about?”

Luka frowned. “I think we’ve already made enough big decisions for the evening. Don’t overwhelm him, Lahiffe.”

“It’s okay,” Adrien assured. “I’m okay. I’m actually feeling better now that I’ve cried and we’ve sort of talked through some things. I…I was thinking…Katsuragi-sensei periodically asks about my relationship with my brother and if I’ve thought about asking Félix if he and his family would be interested in moving to Paris and moving into the Mansion.”

Adrien snuggled closer into Luka. “I’ve always kind of shot the idea down because I was thinking that they wouldn’t want to uproot their lives, but…maybe I should just ask them, give them the option. I’d like to see them, and maybe I could help out with the kids. Maybe Bridgette would like to live closer to her family, and maybe Félix wouldn’t mind being back in Paris now that Maman and Père are gone. I’ve always thought that I couldn’t ask them to leave everything to come be closer to me, that it would be selfish to ask…but maybe I’m being selfish by making this all about me in the first place. I have an empty house I’m never, ever living in…maybe they’d want it.”

Nino nodded. “It wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

“And maybe I should try to get back into contact with Nathalie,” Adrien added tentatively. “I miss her, and she’s probably lonely in prison. Maybe she doesn’t hate me and blame me for my father’s death after all…. Maybe we could reconnect.”

Luka bit his lip, reaching out to cup Adrien’s cheek. “P5, if that’s something you want, we can make it happen, but maybe we should all get some rest for right now. You must be tired.”

Adrien bit his lip and then smiled sheepishly. “Actually, I’m feeling pretty wired. I don’t want to keep you guys up, though.” He looked to Nino.

“Mec, I’m good,” his best friend assured. “I was planning to be up until all hours with Alya tonight anyway before she cancelled on me. If you want to stay up, we can stay up.”

Adrien looked back at Luka. “I know I actually did wake you up when I called. Would you maybe be up for just snuggling on the couch, watching anime until I get sleepy? I don’t care if you fall asleep first.”

Luka nodded easily in agreement. “Works for me.”

Adrien got up, and Nino and Luka slowly followed him out into the great room, watching as he went to the kitchen and started making popcorn.

“What are we watching?” Nino called after him, going over to set up the TV.

Adrien looked back over his shoulder, smiling innocently. “Madoka Magica?”

Nino and Luka shuddered in tandem.

“No,” Nino vetoed. “Not at this time of night. You’ll want to watch the whole thing, and that show’s too mind-warping for right now.”

“Tokyo Mew Mew?” Adrien bartered, setting the microwave for three minutes.

Nino cringed. “How about something in French or English. I’m not really feeling the subtitles right now.”

“You could just learn Japanese,” Luka suggested with a snicker, making himself comfortable on the couch.

Nino rolled his eyes. “Oh, like you did, Mr. I-Learned-Russian-So-I-Could-Read-Tolstoy-In-The-Original-And-Act-All-Superior-And-Cultured? Some of us aren’t good at foreign languages.”

Luka shrugged, running a hand through his hair and trying not to smirk. “Kagami and Adrien are very good teachers. It wasn’t that hard to pick up enough Japanese to understand the general gist of anime. And acting superior is just a side-perk of learning Russian, not my original goal. My original goal was to be able to understand Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy because they teach us what it means to be human.”

“How about we watch Lolirock?” Adrien called from the kitchen in an attempt to end the bickering.

Typically, Nino and Luka got along incredibly well, but they could rub each other the wrong way sometimes, especially late at night.

Nino groaned. “Not franime. And Lolirock’s music is annoying. All of the songs are earworms.”

“Okay. How about we watch Sailor Moon, then?” Luka suggested. “You’ve seen it enough times that you shouldn’t need subtitles, but that way Adrien gets to watch a magical girl show that’s not franime.” Luka eyed Nino warningly.

Knowing when to throw in the towel, Nino agreed to the compromise and took his seat.

“Perfect,” Adrien announced, coming over to the couch with his bowl of popcorn.

He tossed his legs over Nino’s lap and snuggled back against Luka who put his arms around Adrien.

The Sailor Moon episode started to play, and everything felt safe and warm and right.

Saturday mid-morning, the same week as the Tuesday piano recital, Luka was surprised to find Alya loitering on the gangplank of the Liberty.

“Hey,” he greeted guardedly.

“Hey,” she returned without a smile. “Got a few minutes?”

Luka dropped his black motorcycle helmet with cat ears on top into a nearby deckchair and motioned for her to come aboard.

Alya followed him over to the couch under the glass enclosure and took a seat beside him.

“What’s up? I was just on my way over to Marinette’s.” Luka eyed the aspiring journalist warily as he fiddled with the sleeves of his riding jacket, wishing he had a guitar to occupy his hands instead.

“I know.” Alya’s lip tipped up in a slight grin. “She was the first person I asked when I was trying to track you down.”

Luka shifted uncomfortably. “Why did you need to track me down?”

“To prove a point,” Alya remarked, pulling out her phone. “Do you know Chat Noir’s secret identity?”

Luka’s jaw dropped, and it took a second to rearrange his face into a more neutral form of surprise. “Why would I know Chat Noir’s secret identity?”

His stomach began to roil with a sense of foreboding. He could tell she was onto something like a basset hound on a scent trail.

Alya shrugged. “Okay. Fair. How about this…do you know Adrien Agreste’s secret identity?”

Luka clenched his jaw to hold back the tidal wave of curses and threats just ready to wash Alya away and drown her.

The venom in his eyes must have given him away, though, because Alya smiled like a fox with a hen’s neck grasped tightly between its teeth.

“I thought so,” she hummed. “Tuesday night I found out why the piano tuner was at the Agreste Mansion the other day.”

“Alya,” Luka hissed through gritted teeth. “I swear, if you—”

“—Relax,” Alya cut him off with a roll of her eyes as she opened up her photo and video gallery. “That’s what I’m doing here in the first place.”

Luka’s eyes narrowed. “Kindly cut to the point because this sounds like you threatening Adrien, and I have a tendency to snap when the people I love are threatened.”

“I’m not threatening anyone,” she sighed, exasperated. “Look.” She met his gaze and held it intently. “The other day, that crap you said about me being a snake and expecting me to sell out even people I cared about and prioritizing the scoop over people’s lives…that bothered me. I know I’m not your favourite person in general, but it really bothered me that you would be able to think those things about me. I know I said that I had nothing to prove to you, that it was enough for me to know I’d changed, but…I’m here to prove to you that I’ve changed anyway.”

Luka lifted an eyebrow, a little bit of the tension leaving his body. “How do you plan on doing that?”

Alya handed over her phone. “See this?”

Luka looked down to where Alya had the video cued up to show Adrien transforming into Chat Noir. He let out a quiet curse.

“Big scoop, huh?” she prompted.

“What are you going to do with this?” Luka asked flatly, horrendous outcomes already spiraling out of control in his mind.

“I was going to ask you if you wanted to see it before deleting it,” she explained, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “Do you?”

Luka only hesitated a moment. “No. This is private.” He looked up at her, narrowing his eyes once again, mistrusting. “You’re really going to delete this?”

She shook her head. “You are. Go on. Do it. And then make sure you delete it out of my trash bin too.”

Luka stared at Alya, waiting for her to take the words back…but she didn’t. “You’re serious.”

Alya snorted. “I’ve thought about this a lot. Of course I’m serious. Do it.”

He didn’t have to be told three times. He deleted the video, emptied it out of the rubbish bin, and then handed the phone back to Alya.

“You have a backup copy,” he remarked resignedly.

“I do not,” Alya huffed.

“You’re going to publish an article about this,” he accused without heat so that it was more of a matter-of-fact statement.

She shook her head. “I might do some speculation on the Ladyblog about Adrien being Chat Noir, but I’m not going to go out and unmask him for all of Paris. I’m not the horrible person you think I am. I…”

She swallowed and set her jaw, resolution washing over her face. “Maybe I make mistakes sometimes, but that doesn’t make me a bad person. Human beings make mistakes. The important part is realizing that you’ve messed up, doing what you can to make things right, and then trying not to repeat the same mistake in the future…don’t you think?”

Luka considered her for a moment before begrudgingly nodding.

“I know I’ve screwed up in the past, particularly a year and a half ago with the Ladybug Identity Debacle, but I have changed since then, Luka. I have learned.”

He didn’t respond and, instead, looked down at the deck in contemplation with a quiet “hm”.

Alya sighed, getting to her feet. “I know you said that you don’t trust me with Adrien in particular, but I hope this has changed your opinion of me a little bit…. I can show myself out.”

She started to walk away and made it to the stairs to the gangplank before Luka got up and called after her.

“Alya!”

She looked back at him, apprehension in her eyes.

“Thank you. Thanks for doing the right thing.”

A small smile breeched her lips. She nodded. “I’m not a bad person, Luka…and I care about Adrien too…. See ya.”

“Thanks,” he repeated, watching her walk off.

Luka still didn’t trust her, but now he was thinking that maybe she deserved more credit than he’d originally given.

It was Saturday night…technically Sunday morning since it was after midnight, but Adrien didn’t want to think about how late he’d accidentally stayed up, so Saturday night…and Adrien really needed to return the Fox Miraculous.

He’d been procrastinating again.

Deep down, he knew that there had been some kind of disconnect between himself and Marinette, some huge misunderstanding, but he was still nervous about seeing her again.

A part of him needed her to smile at him, take him into her arms, and literally tell him, “No, Chaton. I don’t hate you”.

A part of him was afraid that she wouldn’t.

“Kid,” Plagg sighed. “Go to sleep. It’s too late to do anything about this now anyway.”

Adrien didn’t seem to hear his kwami.

Plagg groaned for dramatic effect, but that too seemed to be lost on Adrien. “Will you at least stop pacing?”

Funny enough, Adrien did stop, but it seemed to be more on his own impetus than in response to Plagg’s request. “Plagg, Marinette said that she gave a speech—that Ladybug gave a speech—for the anniversary.”

Plagg arched an eyebrow, whiskers twitching. “Yeah? What about it?”

Adrien started pacing once more. “She said…I should watch it sometime. She said it as if…as if that would clear some things up. She told me to watch the video after I told her that I’d understand if she didn’t trust me with another Miraculous because of my parents’ abuse of their powers, and then she said that she knew what kind of person I was, and—”

“—Kid, I was there for that conversation. What are you getting at?” Plagg prompted Adrien to get to the point.

Adrien stopped in his tracks and took a deep breath. “Maybe she said something important about what she thinks about me in her speech. Maybe it’s time that I watch it.”

Plagg snorted. “It’s nearly three in the morning. Maybe it’s time that you get to sleep. You can watch the speech tomorrow after you’ve rested and you’re not so manic.”

Adrien shook his head, going to fetch his laptop off the kitchen counter. “No. I need to do this now before I lose my nerve.”

“At least call someone to watch it with you,” Plagg pleaded. “What if you get all emotional and need someone to calm you down?”

Adrien ignored his kwami, setting the laptop down on the coffee table and navigating to the Ladyblog homepage. “I’m not bothering anyone at three in the morning, Plagg.”

“I don’t think Luka would be bothered if you just slipped into his bed sometime during the night,” Plagg snickered.

Adrien rolled his eyes. “What if Marinette is already there with him?”

“Threesome. Everybody’s happy!” the kwami exclaimed and then added in a mumble, “Once you get past the initial awkwardness.”

“Yeah. No.” Adrien gave his eyes one more exaggerated roll before clicking the link to the speech. “I’m pressing play now, so be quiet, okay?”

Onscreen, Ladybug was standing on a stage in front of the Hôtel de Ville. Her fingers gripped the sides of the lectern as she stared with purpose out at the gathered crowd. Her expression was intense and yet unsettled. She had a commanding presence, but, at the same time, she looked like she was about to be sick.

Ladybug opened her mouth, and a hush fell over the audience.

“Parisiens, Parisiennes…” Her voice was a little unsteady. “I’ve been asked to say a few words.” She cleared her throat and adjusted the microphone. “Today…we mark the anniversary of a great tragedy.”

There was a surge of gasps and mutters in the crowd.

Adrien himself sucked in a quick breath in surprise.

“Yes, I said ‘tragedy’,” Ladybug confirmed, her voice settling and finding its convictions. “I realize that most of you today are celebrating freedom from the fear of being manipulated and controlled and used to hurt the people you love and others, and that is a perfectly legitimate thing to celebrate. I don’t fault you for that. You have every right to rejoice in safety and peace. Believe me, I am personally overjoyed every day that I don’t have to go out there and fight an akuma…but I don’t think that today is the right day to celebrate.”

She took a moment to scan the audience, make eye contact with as many of the attendees as she could. “My fellow citizens, today marks the day that a man died.”

Adrien squirmed in his seat as the crowd’s whispers buzzed like insects getting ready to sting.

“Kid?” Plagg called gently.

Adrien shook his head, holding up a hand to assure Plagg that his intervention wasn’t necessary.

Back on screen, Ladybug was gripping the podium so hard Adrien feared she might leave a dent in it. Her shoulders rose to her ears. “Maybe he wasn’t a good man. Maybe people didn’t like him much, but he was a human being. He was a human being who mattered to a handful of people, a human being trying to bring his wife back to life. Now, I think we all agree that he went too far, but let me ask you if there isn’t someone you would have gone just as far to save. Maybe a child or a spouse…a sibling…lover…parent, friend… Isn’t there someone you’d be tempted to try to save?”

The murmurs of the crowd dissipated as the people pursed their lips and averted their eyes, faces pale.

“I’m not condoning Monsieur Agreste’s actions,” Ladybug explained, some of the rigidity coming out of her stance as she leaned forward, eyes filling with sadness and compassion. “I just want you to maybe understand a little better. Gabriel Agreste might not have been a good person, but he wasn’t completely evil either. My own father is a very good person, and sometimes I wonder if he wouldn’t have been tempted to try to use the powers of the Miraculous if something had happened to my mom. I want us all to think about that, try to understand.”

Her gaze swept across the audience again.

The people pointedly didn’t meet her eyes. Some looked outraged, some ashamed, but no one could look Ladybug in the face.

“So, I’m sorry to rain on your parade, but I don’t think we should be celebrating today,” Ladybug continued in the gentle tone Adrien had heard her use occasionally with frightened children. “I think we need to pick a different day to express how thankful we are for our freedom from fear. I won’t stop anyone who wants to celebrate today, but please know that I can’t join you because today is the anniversary of the day I failed.”

There was a collective mutter of protest.

“I failed,” Ladybug repeated above the chatter. “I couldn’t save Monsieur Agreste. I couldn’t catch him, and none of the half dozen times I tried to use my Miraculous Ladybug could I bring him back. I failed.”

“Oh, My Lady,” Adrien sighed, heart breaking as he watched her eyes fill with tears she wouldn’t let fall. “No, Ladybug. No, you didn’t.”

“I failed,” she intoned again, resolutely pushing forward, “someone very important to me.”

Adrien’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Today, as Paris celebrates, someone very important to me is grieving and probably feeling very much alone.”

The audience members began to look at one another and mumble.

“My friend, Adrien Agreste.”

The way she said his name with such tenderness nearly brought Adrien to tears. Luka had been right. Marinette still cared about Adrien very much.

Meanwhile, onscreen, the crowd balked at Ladybug’s declaration.

She raised her hands for silence, nearly shouting to be heard over their objections. “Listen to me! You’re wrong about him! I’ve heard those vicious rumors, and I’m here to tell you that they’re not true! It’s not true!”

Surprisingly, the crowd settled a bit, listening to what she had to say.

“Adrien didn’t know anything about what his father and stepmother were doing.”

She said it with such conviction, such belief in him that Adrien finally did start crying.

“Adrien is innocent in all of this. In fact…” She took a deep breath, steeling herself. She looked uncertain of whether what she was about to say was the right thing. “Adrien Agreste is a hero. Adrien is one of my teammates. He’s fought by my side for years, always saying yes whenever I asked for his aid. Adrien has never backed down from a challenge, and he’s never hesitated to sacrifice himself for me, for the sake of the mission, and for all of you. Over and over, he’s given his life for Paris. I wouldn’t be here today without him. We all owe Adrien Agreste…and I’m afraid that we’re all failing him…me most of all.”

She swallowed and took another deep breath, still fighting to keep from crying in front of all of them. “Adrien has sacrificed the most out of all of us in order to keep Paris and her citizens safe and happy. His life is forever changed so that we can have a future free from fear. I wish I could rewrite the past, make it so that none of this ever happened, but that’s not how life works…. I don’t know if it was right for me to tell you that Adrien was one of the Miraculous holders who fought beside me, and I ask that you respect his privacy…but…I’ve heard the rumors, and I just wanted you to know what kind of person he really is…smart, dependable, loyal, kind, brave, and selfless. I wanted you to know the truth.”

Ladybug breathed a tired little sigh and dropped her hands from the sides of the lectern. “Thank you for your time.”

She bowed politely, turned on a dime, and, with a flick of her wrist, was gone, swinging off on her yoyo over the Paris skyline.

The video ended, and Adrien could only sit in silence, staring at the screen for a solid minute afterwards, tears streaming steadily down his cheeks.

“You okay, Kid?” Plagg sighed, wishing he’d been more insistent about just going to sleep or calling someone beforehand.

Adrien shook his head. “I have to see her.”

Plagg scoffed. “It’s three in the morning.”

“Plagg, I have to see her,” Adrien answered more slowly, more deliberately, as if explaining a particularly difficult particle physics principle. “She doesn’t hate me. She doesn’t blame me for any of this. It’s all just been a big misunderstanding. She thinks she failed me. Plagg, I can’t let her think that for a second longer. I have to go see her and tell her-tell her…there is so much I have to tell her. This can’t wait.”

“Adrien, go get in bed and sleep on this,” Plagg tried to reason. “You’re tired and emotional. At this rate, you’re going to go over there and cry and tell her you love her, and then, tomorrow morning when you’re feeling more sensible, you’re going to regret this. Friends don’t let friends make bold declarations after midnight. I’m doing this for your own good. Don’t make me call Nino. He’d say the same thing,” Plagg warned. “Well…he’d probably say, ‘bros don’t let bros’, but that’s purely semantics.”

“Plagg,” Adrien called softly, scooping his kwami into his palms and bringing him up to eyelevel. “Every fiber of my being is burning to be with her. I feel sick just thinking that we’ve been separated so long for no reason. Please.”

Plagg held firm. “No. Go to sleep. You can see her tomorrow.”

“Plaaaaagg,” Adrien whined.

“No.” Plagg reached out and batted his chosen on the nose. “Stop it. What if you get to her house and she’s naked in bed with her boyfriend? What then?”

Adrien grimaced. “…Threesome? Everybody’s happy?” He chuckled awkwardly.

Plagg gave him a stern look. “Really, Kitten?”

“You said it first,” Adrien pouted.

“It was funny when I said it. Go to sleep,” Plagg commanded, forcing himself to play the role of the responsible parent.

Adrien slumped. “I can’t. I’m too wound up…. Maybe a run?” He looked to his kwami for approval.

Plagg rolled his eyes. “So long as your run takes you to Luka’s and not the bakery. He’ll know what to do with you.”

Adrien snickered, straightening up. “Plagg, transform me.”

He bounded out through his living room window and flew across the rooftops.

By the time he got to the Liberty, he was actually feeling pretty tired. The adrenaline spike from watching Ladybug’s speech and having the revelations that followed had worn off, leaving him exhausted.

He snuck down below deck and tiptoed through the main cabin. He paused at Luka’s door, listening for any signs of activity from within. He knocked softly and then waited.

When this elicited no response, he slowly pushed open the door to find the room unoccupied. Luka’s bed was empty.

“Detransformation…. He must be over at Marinette’s,” Adrien sighed, toeing off his house scuffs and slipping under the covers.

The familiar pine scent of Luka’s body wash on the sheets quickly lulled Adrien into sleep.

With a fond sigh, Plagg curled up on the pillow next to him. “Sleep tight, Kitten.”

Chapter Text

“Ouhf,” Luka grunted as Marinette pinned him down on the chaise longue.

“Say it again,” she challenged, swinging her leg over so that she was straddling him.

“If I do, will you beat me up?” he snickered, sounding like he fancied the idea.

Marinette shifted her weight back onto Luka’s lap.

Luka hissed.

“I can do worse than beat you up, Bluebird,” she reminded with a predatory smirk.

“Is that a promise?” he hummed, cheeks warming up. “If so…‘I don’t get what your deal with neon-colored tulle is’.”

Marinette opened her mouth to launch into a diatribe on her plans for her newly acquired neon-colored tulle, but she was, sadly, cut off as Sabine called up the stairs.

“Marinette! Adrien is here to see you!”

Marinette’s eyes went wide as she practically threw herself off of Luka, dashing over to her chavel mirror to check her appearance.

Luka propped himself up on his elbows, looking back over his shoulder at his girlfriend as she fussed over her hair and clothes. “My Love…what are you doing?”

“Making sure I don’t look like I’ve been sucking on your tonsils for the past hour,” she half-snapped, half-whined in distress at her plight.

Luka opened his mouth to state that they’d only been making out a little, that they’d mostly been talking about her new design ideas with a few kisses in between, and that they’d been downstairs eating breakfast with her parents only twenty minutes prior, so it was impossible for them to have been making out for “the past hour”, but Marinette steamrolled ahead, not giving him the opportunity to speak.

“I mean, what is Adrien going to think if we come down all rumpled and mussed and-and guilty-looking!”

Luka was about to respond that Adrien knew they’d been in a relationship for the past four years and probably wouldn’t be all that scandalized by the fact that Luka and Marinette occasionally expressed their love for one another in a physical manner, but Marinette answered her own question as she raced over to her vanity to douse herself in perfume.

“He’s going to think I’m a slut, that’s what!” She threw her hands in the air for emphasis.

Luka frowned, pushing himself up to seated. “In my family, where my mother has a list of men who could possibly be my biological father and a separate list for my sister’s candidates, we don’t slut shame.”

Marinette blew out a breath, letting her shoulders slump. “Luka, you know what I mean.”

Luka stood up and strode over to her, taking her face in his hands and staring pointedly into her eyes. “Chanson, don’t throw that word around. You’re not doing anyone any favours. Besides…Adrien knows what kind of person you are. He respects you, and he wouldn’t think badly of you, even if you did choose to share your affections more freely like my mom does.”

He leaned in, bending down to place a gentle kiss to her forehead.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him in close even as he straightened up.

“Sorry,” she whispered into his chest. “I didn’t realize it was a touchy subject.”

He snaked his arms around her, giving her a squeeze as he rested his head on hers, breathing in the clean scent of gardenias from her perfume.

“It’s okay,” he assured, giving the top of her head a kiss. “You look beautiful, so go down and see your Prince Charming already.”

She pulled back to look up at him, puzzled. “You’re not coming too?”

Luka shook his head and shrugged, gently extracting himself from her. He headed back over to the chaise, scooping up his acoustic guitar on the way. “Adrien came here to see you, not me. It’ll be good for you two to talk. Besides, don’t you want some alone time together?”

Marinette shifted uncomfortably, grumbling under her breath at being known so well.

Luka rolled his eyes, waving her off. “Don’t worry about me. I can entertain myself.” He played an ascending and descending arpeggio into a C major chord and grinned. “Have fun, Chanson. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she smiled good-naturedly. “Because that rules so many things out.”

Luka answered with a shrug, beginning to play the sad melody Marinette had always thought of as a bird calling for its mate.

“Sabine, it’s really okay. I actually did eat breakfast,” Adrien protested minimally as his host tried to make him sit down and eat.

He was lying about the breakfast, and he really did want the pastries she was trying to offer him, but he knew he couldn’t stomach anything at the moment. He knew he’d be sick if he tried to force something down, he was so nervous about seeing Marinette again.

Sabine clicked her tongue. “Xiao Mao, I worry about you. You were thin enough before for modeling, and now you’re just a walking clothes hanger. When are you coming for dinner? You said you’d call, but it’s been more than a week. I don’t mean to pressure you, Dear, but I’m pressuring you.”

“Soon….. If things go well with Marinette today,” he qualified.

Sabine made to reply, but Marinette chose that moment to come down the steps, drawing Adrien’s attention.

Marinette and Adrien locked eyes, silently taking each other in for a moment.

Marinette finished her descent carefully and, reaching the bottom, tucked a stray bang back behind her ear, gulping. “H-Hi, Adrien.”

Adrien could feel his throat constricting. Seeing her made his chest ache with longing.

“Marinette,” he breathed.

They stared at one another, one frozen by nerves, the other overwhelmed with emotion.

Somehow, it was different from the time a week before when they’d been scared to step on each other’s landmines. This time they were both going into the interaction expecting more of a positive outcome, but coming face to face with the other still triggered uncertainty and a kind of giddiness.

“How are you doing?” Marinette ventured tentatively.

Adrien snapped back to himself, hand going to the back of his neck to rub anxiously. “Oh. Uh…well. I’m…I’m doing well. You?”

The corners of her mouth turned up in an unsure smile. “Good. I’m good too.”

Sabine grimaced at the awkward behaviour as she glanced back and forth between the two.

Marinette slowly made her way over to where Adrien and her mother stood by the kitchen table. “Um…Was there any special reason you came over, or…just dropping by?”

“Oh!” Adrien exclaimed, suddenly remembering the whole purpose of his visit. “Yeah. Sorry. I actually came to give back—” He cut himself off, eyes flickering to Sabine for a second before he continued, “—the thing I borrowed last time. And to see you, but…”

“Right! Right, of course,” Marinette laughed, but her voice sounded strained. “Um…How did the piano recital go?”

“Better than expected, actually,” Adrien chuckled with a genuine grin. “The thing you gave me made all the difference. Thank you again for trusting me with it.”

With a sigh, Marinette reached out and took his hand. “Minou, you know I trust you with my life.”

Sabine broke into a wide grin at the promising scene playing out before her.

Adrien’s own smile turned sheepish. “I’m sorry for doubting…but with everything that happened, I thought you’d lost faith in me.”

Marinette sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh, Adrien….” She shook her head, the saddest, most gentle look in her eyes. “Never.”

She gave his hand a squeeze, and he squeezed back.

Marinette looked to her mother and smiled pointedly. “Maman? Would you mind giving Adrien and me a minute?”

Sabine’s grin slipped into a look of disappointment at not being able to see how the scene ended, but she didn’t protest. She put on an easy smile and nodded. “Of course, Honey. I’ll go down and help your father. Just make sure he eats before he leaves.”

“Can do,” Marinette promised.

“Goodbye, Adrien. Don’t be a stranger,” Sabine instructed, making her way towards the door.

“Thanks, Sabine. See you soon.”

Marinette noted how much like his old self Adrien looked in that moment: winking and waving goodbye to her mother as he smiled warmly. It was such a relief to see him looking better. He was still a shadow of his former self—still pale, still thin—but his eyes looked brighter, peridots glinting in the sunlight once more. He looked well.

The apartment door closed, jolting Marinette back into the present.

She dropped Adrien’s hand.

“So!” she exclaimed with a big smile. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Adrien chuckled. “Oh.” He pulled the box containing the Fox Miraculous out of his pocket and set it on the kitchen counter. “Before I forget,” he explained.

Marinette nodded…but then stopped as her eyes caught on Adrien’s, picking up on the sudden emotion in those leaf-green pools that had her feeling like she was drowning.

He stepped in, and suddenly his arms were around her, pulling her in tight like he’d done many a time after they’d narrowly survived a particularly rough akuma attack.

“My Lady,” he whispered reverently into her hair. “My Lady.”

The words were all need and longing.

He held her with the urgency of a drowning man clinging to driftwood, as if she were the only thing keeping him afloat.

“Chaton,” she answered, letting her own arms embrace him.

“I watched your speech,” he informed, voice trembling somewhat.

Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. “O-Oh?”

He held her tighter. “Thank you. For standing up for me, for believing in me…for even going so far as to try to get them to stop vilifying my father so much…for trying to get them to understand.”

“Of course, Chaton. It’s…it’s literally the very least I could do,” she replied, voice cracking a bit as tears began to sting at the corners of her eyes.

“My Lady…Marinette…” He pulled back slightly to meet her gaze. “You didn’t fail.”

She started to shake her head as if to argue with him. “Adrien, I—”

“—You didn’t fail,” he repeated, gathering steam. “You did everything you possibly could. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

Her mouth dropped open, and she stared at him. “It…wasn’t?”

He shook his head, sliding his hands down her arms to take her palms in his. “I have never blamed you.”

A small gasp escaped her lips, but she couldn’t find words. The tears waiting in the wings finally started to stream down her face in a rush.

His eyes filled with regret and compassion as he let go of one hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “It wasn’t until I saw your speech last night that I realized…you’ve been blaming yourself this whole time haven’t you?” he asked softly.

She choked and nodded.

“Oh, Buginette,” he sighed, leaning in to press a whisper of a kiss to her forehead. “We need to talk. Come sit with me.” He gently tugged her over to the couch.

They snuggled up together, side by side, fingers of one hand intertwined, shoulders, hips, and legs pressed together, heads inclined towards the other’s.

“You really don’t blame me?” Marinette timidly inquired.

Adrien shook his head.

She slumped into him. “I thought…I thought you did.”

“No,” he repeated.

“I thought for sure…I mean…I ruined your life. Why—?” She looked up at him, searching his face. “I thought you never wanted to see me again. I thought I was just a big, walking reminder of your family being destroyed and your company ruined and your life in shambles. I thought you hated me.” A few more tears escaped down her cheeks.

His voice caught in his throat, frozen there in shock. “Is that…why you’ve been avoiding me this past year?”

She nodded. “Why don’t you hate me?” she wondered in a small, fragile voice.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you.” He gave their joined hands a squeeze. “You know how I feel about you…Marinette and Ladybug. My feelings for you have never changed.”

She squeezed his hand hard as her head dropped forward and she started to tremble.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. It was all she could manage at the time, overpowered as she was by the immensity of her mistake.

“It’s okay,” he assured tone soft and gentle, as if he were handling a tiny, breakable creature. “I’ve never blamed you. I…” He bit his lip, debating for a breath before deciding that he needed to continue, to get the feelings out there. “The only thing you did wrong was not being there for me when I needed you.”

Marinette snapped out of herself, tears drying instantly. She uncurled from her hunched position and looked up at him, eyes wide.

“I needed you,” he repeated gently, trying not to come across as accusatory. “…and you weren’t there by my side. I know we can’t change the past, so there’s nothing either of us can do about that now, but…” His teeth sank into his lip once more. “I’m still kind of messed up about it. I’m still trying to come to terms with it…forgive you for not being there…because I love you, and I want things to be okay again, but…”

He looked directly into her lapis blue eyes. “It hurt, feeling abandoned…”

She drew in a sharp breath, but it felt like all of the oxygen had been knocked out of her.

“…when everything was falling apart and everyone was turning on me… I needed you, Bug. I needed you, Marinette…and you weren’t th-there.” He choked on the last word, his voice cracking as the tears began to spill.

She pulled him into her. The position was a little awkward, and he ended up with his head on her chest, kind of tipped over in a side hug, but neither of them could be bothered to care.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Adrien. I’m sorry, Minou. I’m so sorry, Chaton. I’m sorry,” she repeated over and over in dozens of variations until the words lost all meaning.

She nuzzled his hair, pressing little kisses wherever her lips happened to brush.

Her fingers started working through his hair, tracing lazy patterns along his scalp.

She held him, and they both cried, devastated at the realization of how stupid they’d been, how much they’d hurt themselves and each other, all without reason. It had all been senseless pain and time lost.

The minutes slipped by, and Marinette’s hand continued its work in Adrien’s hair. Eventually the tears dried, and a low purr began to rumble in Adrien’s chest.

Marinette chuckled softly. “I’ve missed that sound.”

“Hmm. Marinette always did like the purr, didn’t she?” Adrien snickered. “So, can you tell me why Ladybug always gave Chat so much crap about it?”

Marinette’s fingers stilled.

Adrien pushed his head up against her hand with a throaty mewl of protest. “Don’t stop.”

With a half-hearted sigh, Marinette resumed her ministration. “…Same reason Ladybug never liked Chat Noir’s puns. Timing…. And it was fun to tease you. I didn’t realize you were actually sensitive about it until much later…. Sorry, by the way. For being insensitive.”

“Meh. No harm done,” he sighed, repositioning so that his head rested on her shoulder, his face in the crook of her neck. The angle was a little uncomfortable due to the height difference, but her warmth, the comforting solidity of her body pressed to his, and her sweet scent cocktail (strawberry shampoo, oatmeal bodywash, gardenia perfume, sweat, a hint of pine, and that bakery smell that had permeated her essence) were all each individually worth the crick in his neck. Put together, they were irresistible.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he realized for what was probably the thousandth time.

“I missed you too,” she whispered back, running a hand up and down his spine.

“This year has been hell,” he chuckled bitterly. “My friends have gotten me through it, but…this year has been hell.”

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” she replied, her eyes started to tear up once more.

“I thought…” He swallowed and tried again. “My father’s death…until recently…until I did the piano recital on Tuesday…I thought that was my fault.”

Marinette felt like all the oxygen and heat had been sapped out of the room. It was like being sucked into outer space without a space suit. Cold and suffocating. “W-What? No. Adrien, no. No….” She shook her head, holding him tighter. “No. No.”

“I thought he fell because I called him ‘father’ and that surprised him and made him lose his balance,” Adrien explained. “I thought you couldn’t catch him in time because the shock of learning my identity distracted you. That second part is probably true to some extent, but now I’m thinking…maybe he was already losing his balance before I said anything. The wind was really strong that day. His shoes weren’t exactly made for balancing on railings. I probably didn’t help, but it probably wasn’t my fault.”

“Adrien, I…I was already distracted the moment he dropped his transformation,” Marinette confessed. “As soon as I saw it was him, I was thinking ‘Oh my God. That’s one of my best friends’ dad. That’s my fashion idol. Adrien’s father is Papillon. I’m going to get Adrien’s father arrested. Adrien is never going to speak to me again. I’m never going to succeed as a designer. No one is ever going to hire the girl who got Gabriel Agreste arrested. My life is over. My career is finished. Adrien is going to hate me. I—”

“—You are really good at negative thought spirals, you know that? I should take lessons from you,” Adrien interrupted. “…Have you ever considered trying Cognitive Behavioral Therapy? It’s doing wonders for me.”

Marinette cleared her throat. “I’ve entertained thoughts of giving it a try, but not seriously.”

“I’d kind of like you to come with me for one of my therapy sessions so that we can talk some things out in a structured, mediated environment—if you’re comfortable with that. …Maybe, if you like my therapist, you could make an appointment to talk to her about some of the garbage you’re dealing with sometime. You don’t have to be crazy to see a therapist, you know.”

“I know,” she quickly interjected.

Adrien kept going. “I think everyone could benefit from having someone listen to their problems and help them strategize about how to deal with those problems in the most constructive, effective way.”

Marinette pursed her lips.

Adrien’s gentle suggestion felt a lot less invasive than any of the times Luka had brought therapy up. For once, she didn’t feel like she was being attacked or told that she was doing things wrong. With Luka, it always felt like he was implying that she wasn’t handling things well. It felt like he was telling her that she was failing and needed help. The way Adrien talked about it, it made perfect sense…like everyone needed a therapist and the crazy ones were the ones who didn’t go in for counseling. Who didn’t want someone to try to help fix their problems?

“I could go in with you, if you think that would help. I’d…if you want me to go, I’ll go with you,” she agreed.

“Thanks, Princess,” he purred, nuzzling her neck lovingly. “And thanks for telling me about how you were already freaking out when you saw my father was Papillon. That…that really helps. If you were already distracted, then learning my identity on top of that probably didn’t make that much difference. I mean, it did, but…”

She nodded. “Yeah. No, my brain was already fried at that point.”

Adrien breathed out a heavy sigh. “Okay. Good…. Now I just feel kind of stupid for thinking I killed my father for a year.”

“Oh, Adrien,” Marinette whispered, heart aching. She gently nuzzled his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“It gets worse,” he hesitated to admit.

She cringed. “Worse?”

He nodded. “So, I blamed myself for my father’s death…and I thought you did too.”

Marinette’s heart dropped yet again into her stomach. “No. No. No, no, no. Why?”

He shrugged. “I mean…it was obvious to me that it was my fault, and when you go through trauma like that…seeing your father go splat,”

She winced.

“the shock of your parents being supervillains, your life as you know it being turned upside down, losing everything and everyone…”

She pulled him in closer, determined to make up for him ever feeling alone in his entire life.

“…When you go through trauma like that, your head gets a little messed up. You don’t think right, so…and you were avoiding me. I thought, especially after everything that happened, my partner, my friend would be there for me…but you weren’t.” He swallowed and forced himself to get the words out. “You weren’t, so I thought that you didn’t want to be around me…or be my partner…or my friend. Everybody else was turning on me…my fans, the media. I was getting death threats. The staff all quit. Everyone was leaving. People didn’t even want me for my money anymore. It wasn’t such a stretch to think you didn’t want me anymore either.”

“Oh, God,” Marinette hissed. “No. No, no, no. Minou, I’m sorry. I am a colossal screwup. I panicked. I thought you’d be better off without me around. I jumped to conclusions. I thought you didn’t want to see me. I never would have abandoned you if I’d known. I promise you. Adrien, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s…it’s not okay,” he responded honestly. “I mean…I accept your apology, and I want to be friends again…I want you back in my life…but…you hurt me. Really, really bad. You hurt me, and that wasn’t okay. I’m still working on forgiving you. I want to forgive you because I know that not forgiving you isn’t good for me either, and I love you,”

Her heart jumped.

“…so I want things to be okay between us, but it’s going to take some time to get there. We’ll have to work to rebuild trust, rebuild the relationship.”

“Just tell me what you need me to do. I’ll do it. Anything,” she assured, eager to fix what she’d broken.

“For now, maybe work on asking me what I’m thinking and feeling instead of assuming that you already know,” he suggested. “I know I’m guilty of playing ‘mind reader’ too sometimes, but…we lost a whole year of our friendship and went through all that suffering because we didn’t ask one another what we were really thinking. I feel just sick thinking about all that time we’re never going to get back.”

She let out a ragged sigh and squeezed him. “I promise I’m going to work on it. I promise I’ll work on communication. The next time I start to go off on one of my end-of-the-world spirals, I’ll check in with you before I act on any of my conclusions. Okay?”

He nodded, pressing a feather-light kiss to her throat. “Okay. Thanks.”

He slowly pulled away, sitting up and missing the warmth of her arms immediately.

Her eyes searched his face.

“Can you do one more thing for me, please?” he tentatively inquired, embarrassed to ask.

“Anything,” she was quick to promise.

A cinnamon blush spread rapidly over the bridge of his nose. “Could you please say, ‘Adrien, I don’t hate you’?” He looked down to the side. “Sorry. I just really need to hear you say it.”

Her mouth fell open in shock. “You thought I hated you?” she breathed, horrified by the prospect.

He nodded. “I still kind of am struggling with that. I mean, objectively, I know you don’t, but a part of me has been thinking you hated me for the past year, so—”

“—Adrien,” She cut him off, taking his face in her hands and making him meet her gaze. “I have never hated you. Adrien Agreste, I love you.”

He stared at her speechlessly, blinking in stupefaction. “Uh…Oh. Oh.” He gave a nervous laugh, straining to smile. “Sorry. Right. You mean platonically. You surprised me for a second.”

Marinette shook her head, enjoying the feel of his face heating up between her hands. “No. I mean I’m in love with you.”

He blinked again, his brain crashing and trying to reboot. It gave up when she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

It took a second, but then he was kissing her back, letting her push him down onto the couch, letting her push his legs apart and out of the way so that she could lie on top of him, chest to chest.

It was a sensory overload of the heat of her body, the pleasant pressure of her weighing him down, her tongue exploring his mouth, and her hands rifling through his hair.

She gave his hair a tug, and his hands tightened on her hips as he moaned in bliss.

He’d dreamed about this. He’d wanted this for years. It felt too good to be true, but it was actually happening. He’d never dared to believe he could have this. Marinette and Luka had always seemed like an invincible couple that Adrien could never hope to come between. Sometime like this had seemed impossible.

Suddenly a red flag went up in Adrien’s mind, and he turned his head away, breaking the kiss, gasping, “You have a boyfriend.”

Marinette pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, looking down at a nearly undone Adrien with a soft smile. “Don’t worry. My boyfriend’s in love with you too.”

Adrien’s eyes went wide, dumbfounded by the revelation, not sure if he’d heard correctly.

“Hey,” Luka snapped from where he’d been eavesdropping on the stairs.

Chapter Text

“Hey,” Luka snapped from where he’d been eavesdropping on the stairs.

Marinette sat back on her heels, looking over the back of the couch in surprise.

Adrien pushed himself up to gaze at Luka in horror.

Luka stalked over, glaring at Marinette. “You had no right to tell him that. That’s the kind of thing a guy prefers to tell a guy personally. You could have just said you had my permission.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “You’ve had plenty of opportunities to tell him. Like, maybe when you two were snuggling in bed one night?”

Luka’s eyebrow twitched. “That is platonic snuggling as friends, not romantic snuggling. You don’t just say the ‘L’ word while snuggling platonically. That would be taking advantage of him when he’s vulnerable. Trust me. I’ve had a whole year to learn how to compartmentalize my feelings for him.”

“Well, tell him now,” Marinette snorted.

“After that emotional rollercoaster you two just went on?” Luka huffed right back. “He’s already overwhelmed. I’m not going to add one more thing to his plate. But enough about me. You shouldn’t have kissed him like that. You royally mess him up. You can’t just ignore him for a year and then barge back into his life and kiss him like that. I love you, Marinette, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to let you do whatever you want. I have to think about what’s best for Adrien too, and I don’t think he needs you skipping the friendship line and trying to jump right into something romantic with him…or did you miss everything he said about gradually rebuilding trust between you two? Because I feel like that was super important.”

Marinette looked away, suitably chastised. “I may have gotten carried away.” She turned back to Adrien. “I’m sorry. He’s right. Regardless of my feelings for you, I shouldn’t have rushed things like that. I was trying to prove a point, but I took things too far too fast. Can we just start over as friends with the understanding that I adore you, I’m so sorry that I messed everything up, and I have never, ever hated you, not even when I thought you were the one who put the gum on my chair?”

It took Adrien a literal fifteen seconds before he could get his wits about him enough to respond. “So…no one’s mad at me?” He looked pointedly at Luka.

Luka stepped in with a reassuring smile, smoothing Adrien’s tussled hair. “No one is mad at you, Angel-Face.”

Despite himself, Adrien leaned into the touch. “You’re not just saying that?”

“I’m not just saying that,” Luka confirmed, moving his hand to scratch behind Adrien’s ear. “If you and Marinette want to kiss each other, I’m perfectly fine with that happening. Preferably, I’d like to be present to watch, but that’s not a requirement. Whatever you and Marinette mutually consent to is fine. It’s not cheating on me.”

“Oh,” Adrien whispered, carefully drawing his legs in, trying to put a little bit of distance between himself and Marinette for propriety’s sake without losing contact with Luka’s hand.

“Though, I kind of think—and this is my personal opinion on the matter and not a binding opinion, but—I kind of think you two shouldn’t rush things. Maybe take a month or two or three to get to know each other again as friends before anything romantic happens. Relationships are hard enough as it is. It’s probably not a good idea to complicate things with unresolved baggage. I say this because I care about you two, okay?” He reached out and gave a strand of Marinette’s hair a gentle tug with the hand not petting Adrien.

Marinette smiled sheepishly, taking Luka’s hand in both of hers and turning to nuzzle it. “Thanks for looking out for us, Bluebird.”

“Always, Chanson,” Luka promised.

“So…” Adrien spoke up again. “Sorry. Wait. Can we talk about this? I feel like I’ve fallen into an alternate universe.”

“Talking is good,” Marinette agreed, repositioning herself so that she was sitting up straight with one foot on the floor, the other tucked under her.

“Sure,” Luka consented, giving Adrien’s head one last pat before coming around to the other side of the couch and taking a seat between Adrien and Marinette.

“Hey,” Marinette whined as Luka put an arm along the back of the couch around Adrien.

“What?” Luka snickered. “You’ve been monopolizing him this whole time. I think it’s my turn.”

Marinette snorted. “Says the guy who’s been rubbing it in my face for a year now how cute Adrien is when he sleeps and how precious it is to be able to wake up next to him in the morning.”

Luka had the grace to look sheepish. “To be fair, I was only trying to make you jealous so that you’d talk to him and sort out whatever mysterious misunderstanding there’d been between you two and then be there for him while his life was falling apart…but it turns out that you were right and I didn’t know what I was talking about.”

Marinette paled. “…How long were you listening to us?” she asked as if afraid to know the answer.

Luka winced, averting his gaze. “Long enough to be very confused until I suddenly wasn’t anymore. And then I was just sorry to have learned something you’d obviously been working very hard to keep a secret all these years…but we can talk about that later—or not. Up to you, but I think right now we need to focus on Adrien.”

“R-Right.” Marinette nodded, pushing everything Ladybug- and Guardian-related going through her head to the back corner of her mind.

She looked to Adrien with a neutral smile. “What do we need to talk about?”

Adrien bit his lip, looking from Luka to Marinette. “…I…I’m a little lost.” His gaze landed on Marinette. “You said you loved me?”

“Mmhm,” she agreed, cheeks taking on a carnelian hue.

Adrien frowned. “When did that happen? Every time I’ve ever asked you, you always told Adrien that you admired his work as a model but didn’t have those kinds of feelings for him and Chat that there was another boy…until you started dating Luka, and I thought that that kind of settled things, so…now that you’ve been dating the guy you love for four years…I’m confused. When did you fall in love with me?”

Marinette sucked in a pained breath, her cheeks starting to resemble rust.

Luka snickered, apparently enjoying his girlfriend’s suffering. “Don’t you dare hold out on him. Tell him the whole truth or I will.”

Marinette slapped Luka’s thigh with a rude comment under her breath.

Luka only grinned harder.

Marinette trained her gaze on Adrien. “I fell in love with you when I was thirteen. Not long after we first met, actually. You told me you’d never been to school, never had friends before, so everything was kind of new. It was raining, and you gave me your umbrella, so…” She shrugged, smiling in a way that begged him to have mercy. “That was it.”

Adrien shook his head. “But…you said that was just an embarrassing, ridiculous crush.” The look on his face was one of betrayal. “You said that it was stupid and didn’t mean anything.”

It was Marinette’s turn to frown in confusion. “When did I say that?”

“Remember that party I snuck out for on the Liberty that summer we were sixteen? Well, it was more of a friend gathering, but we were all sitting around in the main cabin,” Adrien recounted, gesturing with his hands, “and Alix accidentally said something about back when you had that ridiculous crush on me, and I was like, ‘…Wait…. What?’, but you said that it was forever ago and that we should all just forget about it because it was stupid and embarrassing and didn’t matter and you were over it anyway.”

Marinette winced, reaching up to rub at the side of her neck. “Oh. Well. I was embarrassed, so I lied. It did matter. Adrien was the guy I always turned down Chat Noir for, so…it wasn’t a stupid, meaningless crush.”

“You okay?” Luka called softly, gently rubbing at Adrien’s arm with his thumb. “You look stricken.”

Adrien shook his head, turning to Luka. “She lied to me. I can’t believe she lied to me.”

Luka gave Adrien a sympathetic smile, squeezing Adrien’s shoulder. “Yeah, I know, P5. That sucks,” he gently consoled, a note in his voice telling Adrien that Luka could relate intimately.

Adrien briefly wondered how upset Luka actually was about finding out his girlfriend was Ladybug. He was doing an exceptional job of hiding it.

“Is it really such a big deal four years later?” Marinette broke into the moment, laughing nervously, trying to play it off as less serious than it seemingly was in hopes that someone would agree with her.

“Yes!” Adrien insisted with unexpected vehemence. “You were dating Luka at that point—like, you were sitting in his lap as you told me that you were embarrassed that you had ever liked me and, even though you had liked me, it wasn’t a big deal, and it was stupid for you to like me—so I just believed you. Unquestioningly. Because you were dating the perfect guy, and of course you were so over me and it was stupid for someone as amazing as you to have ever liked me in the first place because people don’t ever actually like the real me. Ladybug didn’t. Kagami didn’t. Marinette didn’t.”

“Adrien,” Luka called softly, trying to pull Adrien out of the downward spiral.

Adrien wasn’t having it. “And I was in love with you then. Marinette-you. For a second, when Alix said that you had liked me before, I thought I had a sliver of a chance, but…you kind of pulverized it. So, I said. ‘Oh. Okay. Sorry.’, and the party just kind of went on, but I felt horrible, so I made up an excuse about getting back before someone realized I was gone, and I went home and cried a little bit until I started getting worried about being akumatized.”

“Oh, Adrien,” Luka sighed, pulling Adrien into a side hug to more easily nuzzle.

“Adrien, I’m sorry,” Marinette responded in a small, meek tone.

“You should be,” Adrien snorted. “You stole the guy I had a crush on, publicly humiliated me, and broke my heart.”

“We can make two of those things better for you,” Luka offered.

Adrien hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe in a minute. I’m busy being a drama queen.”

Luka nodded, familiar with the drill. “Just let us know when you’re done and ready to be placated.”

“Will do,” Adrien assured, but then paused, a realization dawning upon him. “Wait.” He pulled back from Luka to stare at Marinette. “But that was when you fell in love with me when we were little. You said that you loved me now, in the present tense. When did you fall for me again?” Adrien demanded, even more confused than before.

“I didn’t,” Marinette replied simply with a shrug. “I never got over you.”

Adrien’s mouth fell open. “You didn’t?”

She shook her head, an adoring smile gracing her lips. “Earlier, you told me that your feelings for Marinette and Ladybug had never changed. Mine didn’t either. Even while I’ve been with Luka, I’ve loved you this whole time.”

“…Oh.” Adrien gulped. “I…So that’s why Luka was talking before about something romantic possibly happening in the future between us?” He looked back and forth between Marinette and Luka.

Marinette nodded. “I’ve always been honest with Luka about my feelings, and he’s always been honest with me.”

“Is a romantic relationship with Marinette something you think you’d want?” Luka inquired gingerly, aware of the fragile nature of the situation.

Adrien bit his lip but forced himself to look both of them in the eyes. “Eventually? Yes…but not right now. I’m…” He looked away. “I’ve got a lot of healing still left to do, and a big chunk of it has to do with you, Marinette. Besides, I’m not the person you knew. I’m not—” He choked back tears. “I’m not the guy you think you’re in love with.”

“Adrien?” She inched closer, concern coating her voice.

He shook his head. “I’ve changed a lot this past year. I’ve been through the shredder, and I’m not the same guy I was when you knew me. Maybe we’ll start getting to know one another again, and you’ll find out that you don’t really love me after all. I honestly don’t think you will.”

“Don’t say that.” Luka pulled Adrien back in, squeezing his shoulder.

Adrien shook his head. “Marinette, I don’t want to get my hopes up only to be crushed again. The point is, I need some time for us to get to know one another again because I don’t believe that the person I am right now is loveable.”

“You’re wrong,” Luka insisted. “You’re dead wrong, Adrien.”

“Still,” Adrien protested. “She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know firsthand what I’m like, how bad I am.”

He turned back to Marinette. “I am a pale, sick shadow of my former self, and I don’t think it’s possible to love me as I am. I’m not sure what Nino and Luka have told you, but…”

He trailed off, giving her the opportunity to fill in the gap.

Marinette exhaled slowly. “Luka is of the opinion that, if I truly cared, I’d go check on you myself. He tells me vague, generic details mostly. I get some specifics sometimes, I mean, we do talk about you quite a bit, but he’s very diligent about protecting your privacy.”

Adrien nodded diplomatically.

Marinette took a deep breath. “Nino…Nino and I don’t exactly talk much anymore.”

Adrien blinked as he tried to process her words. “What? But… You guys always got along so well.”

She shook her head, averting her eyes. “He’s mad at me for not being there for you. He’s tried to get me to talk things out with you a couple times, but it’s only ended in me clamming up and shutting him out and him losing his temper. I probably should have just told him what my deal was, and he would have told me that you didn’t hate me or blame me for your father’s death, but…”

She looked up, out the windows over the kitchen sink. “Sorry. Being Ladybug is a heavy responsibility. Being the Guardian and Ladybug can feel like being stuck in a pit with the ceiling pressing down on you sometimes, and that wasn’t a burden I could share with anyone.”

“Marinette,” Luka cooed, slipping his arm from Adrien’s shoulders to wrap around Marinette, pulling her into him, encircling her in safety and warmth. He squeezed her tight, nuzzling her hair, pressing delicate kisses to the top and sides of her head.

“Paris depends on me,” Marinette whispered, letting herself relax into Luka’s hold. “The safety of everyone depends on me. I had to keep my identity secret at any cost…even if that meant dealing with everything on my own. It was suffocating having to keep all of that to myself, but I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t risk being weak and opening up to anyone. It would put everyone in danger. I just had to suck it up and figure things out without help. There was no option to ask for help…. I just learned not to, so…it didn’t feel like telling Nino and asking for help was an option.”

“Okay,” Luka sighed, pulling back to look her in the eye and make sure she was paying attention. “Okay. No more of that. All right? No more dealing with everything yourself. No more not asking for help when you’re drowning. Em, we are a team. Teammates lean on one another. Teammates have each other’s backs. Please know that, whatever it is you’re going through, I will be there to support you. All you have to do is ask. Tell me what you need done, and I will make it happen for you. Until I take my last breath, I will be there for you every step of the way.”

“Luka,” Marinette breathed, eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

“Me too,” Adrien added softly, face set in determination. “We’re still partners, aren’t we? Partners stay by each other’s side and support one another. Marinette was always the one who would fight anyone who called Chat Noir Ladybug’s sidekick, wasn’t she? So…treat me like a partner and depend on me in the future.”

His eyes went soft with a mix of affection for her and regret. “I’m so sorry that you felt like you had to deal with everything alone all these years, My Lady. I’m sorry I never saw you were struggling.”

Marinette reached out across Luka and took Adrien’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay, Chaton. It’s not your fault…. Thanks.” She lifted her head to meet both of their gazes. “Thank you both. I can’t promise that I’m overnight going to start reaching out for help, but…I’ll try to keep in mind the next time I feel overwhelmed that it’s okay to say something.”

“Please do, Chanson,” Luka whispered, hugging her closer.

Adrien tightened his grip on her hand, silently letting her know he was there for her too.

They stayed like that for a comfortable minute, Marinette in Luka’s arms, Marinette and Adrien holding hands, Adrien snuggled up at Luka’s side.

Adrien noted that it was nice, natural. It felt like he fit there with them, and that was a wonderful feeling.

It was over too soon as Marinette slowly disengaged, getting up and going over to the table where Sabine had left the pastries she’d been trying to foist upon Adrien.

“Okay,” Marinette sighed as she picked out a pain au chocolat and threw it on a plate with a banana. “So…I need to rely on people more…and Adrien doesn’t think he’s loveable as is.”

“That sounds like an accurate summary,” Luka agreed.

Marinette motioned for Adrien to join her at the table.

Tentatively, he did, taking a seat across from her.

She set the plate she had prepared in front of him with a command of, “Eat. I promised my mother I’d get you to eat.”

Luka came over and exchanged the banana on Adrien’s plate with an orange from the dish.

Adrien cast Luka a look of gratitude before digging into the pain au chocolat.

“So,” Luka announced, carefully moving the Fox Miraculous box out of the way before putting his elbows down and leaning on the end of the counter. “You two are going to work on being friends again so Marinette will be able to say for sure that she loves the person Adrien is now and not just the person he was a year ago?”

Marinette nodded, grabbing the discarded banana and thoughtfully peeling it. “That’s the plan.”

“It’s okay if you don’t end up loving me,” Adrien remarked, trying to be realistic. “I don’t expect you to. If we could just be friends again, even that would be—”

“—Perfect Fifth, why don’t you just eat your pastry and not worry so much about the future,” Luka suggested gently. “The future will take care of itself, so let’s just let what happens happen.”

Adrien bit his lip and looked like he was about to protest, but then he decided to concentrate his efforts on the pain au chocolat.

“We can start with study sessions,” Marinette jumped in through a mouthful of banana. She swallowed and continued, “There’s still a week before exams. We can still get you up to speed enough to pass Business.”

“And you could come over and have dinner with the Dupain-Chengs,” Luka added, stealing a lavender honey macaron from the pastry box. “Marinette told me she invited you over to cook and have dinner whenever you wanted.”

Adrien nodded. “Maybe we could do that on Wednesday.”

“Would you want to stay after to play video games?” Marinette inquired tentatively. “I guess it depends on how you’re feeling that day, but…My mom and dad would probably appreciate someone a little more on their level to go up against.”

Adrien turned to Luka. “I think your girlfriend just insulted my video game skills.”

Luka shrugged. “She’s kind of a beast. You’re either nicer than she is or not as good because, when I play against you, I don’t feel as badly beaten. I’m a total noob, and her parents both trounce me.”

Adrien’s eyebrows pinched together as he grabbed a napkin and wiped the chocolate smears from his mouth. “Let’s just say that I’m nicer.” He picked up his orange and bit into it, creating a foothold from which he could remove the rest of the peel.

“You are nicer,” Marinette confirmed, “but you’re also not as good at video games.”

Adrien flicked a piece of orange peel at her. “Why do I like you again?”

“She’s worth liking,” Luka snickered, picking up the peel that had glanced off of Marinette’s arm and landed on the table and setting it back down on Adrien’s plate with the rest of the orange detritus.

Adrien shrugged, dropping the pouty act.

“You know, we never finished watching that one anime you were showing me,” Marinette changed the subject. “We should go back to Saturday anime and Chinese food night.”

Adrien paused with an orange slice halfway to his mouth. “Which anime was it?”

Marinette pursed her lips, trying to think of what it had been called. “The one with the English title pronounced the Japanese way.”

“You just described a quarter of all anime,” Luka snorted, stealing the banana from Marinette and taking a bite.

Marinette swatted at her boyfriend. “The one with the zodiac.”

Luka raised an eyebrow. “Starry Sky?”

Adrien’s face went red. “I wouldn’t show her a reverse harem anime.”

Marinette frowned. “You showed me Ouran High School Host Club. Isn’t that a reverse harem?”

“Technically, but it’s not just a reverse harem. There’s an actual compelling plot,” Adrien explained.

Luka hummed, wracking his brain for all of the anime Adrien had showed him pertaining to the zodiac. “It wouldn’t be Etotama. …Was it Furuba?”

“Fruits Basket!” Marinette exclaimed, stealing back the banana from Luka. “That’s it. We should finish Fruits Basket…start hanging out more like we used to.”

“I’d like that. If things could go back to normal.” Adrien nodded, holding out the last slice of orange to Luka.

Luka leaned in, taking it between his teeth.

Adrien chuckled, picking up his plate and taking it over to the sink. He deposited the orange peel in the compost bin and the plate in the dishwasher before washing the sticky juice off of his hands.

Marinette swung around on her stool to face him. “The three of us should hang out more often too,” she proposed tentatively.

Adrien looked up. “Yeah?”

Luka grinned, turning his body towards Adrien. “Yeah.”

Adrien nodded again, a cautiously hopeful smile pulling at his lips. “I’d like that.”

“Maybe we could all hang out at your apartment sometime,” Marinette suggested. “I mean, if you feel okay with that. I’d love to see it.”

Adrien frowned, not yet sure how he felt about having Marinette in his space where he couldn’t escape if he needed to.

“Or we could start out here or on the Liberty.” Luka intervened, seeing Adrien’s hesitation.

Adrien finished drying his hands and turned to look at Luka with gratitude. “That sounds good. Maybe we can hang out at my place in a few weeks.”

“Okay,” Marinette hastily agreed. “Sure. Of course. Yeah. We could start out here…maybe make dinner together…watch a movie while snuggling on the couch…go for a walk by the Seine afterwards…stop by a park and just sit and talk…watch the stars.” She bit her lip, casting her boyfriend a sidelong look. “Maybe Luka could bring his guitar and serenade us.”

“Sure,” Luka consented, reaching out to twist a lock of Marinette’s hair around his finger before looking to Adrien. “If that’s something Adrien would be interested in?”

Adrien gulped, trying to restore moisture to his suddenly parched throat. “I…Yeah. Yes. I…That sounds great. I’d like that sometime. Um…When…When exactly would you be wanting to do that?”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Marinette assured. “If that’s in two weeks or two months… Whenever you’re ready.”

Adrien inhaled slowly, starting to nod. “O-Okay.”

“Maybe we can start with something less stressful,” Luka was quick to suggest. “Maybe the three of us just have dinner with my family sometimes or just get together to watch a movie or play board games or go through the pile of instruments my family has in storage. Just fun, low-pressure stuff. I think the Liberty is fairly neutral ground, if we want to start there.”

Marinette nodded enthusiastically, eager to be accommodating. “Sure. Okay. Whatever you two think is best.”

Adrien cast Luka another grateful grin.

Luka winked, returning the smile. “We’ll figure it out. Play it by ear and see what feels right. It’ll all work out.”

Marinette leaned in to press a quick kiss to her boyfriend’s cheek. “Thanks.”

“Sure thing.” He returned her kiss with a peck on the temple and then turned back to the box of leftover pastries. “P5, there are a couple cheesecake and passionfruit macarons left if you want to take those home for you and Plagg to snack on later. I will be laying claim to the lemon poppyseed one. Chanson, are you feeling more like pink champagne or salted caramel? One of each?” He pushed the box towards her.

Marinette blushed, looking away, ashamed. “I actually prefer the salted caramel. Pink champagne is okay, but I usually only take them so that I can sneak them into my purse for my kwami.”

Luka’s eyes widened, and his eyebrows raised. “Oh. Well. I guess I’m going to have some work to do relearning your favourite foods and flavours. Off the top of your head, is there anything else that I think you love that you’re not all that enthusiastic about?” he inquired patiently, trying to take it all in stride.

Marinette’s cheeks darkened. “The chocolate chip cookies are also a Tikki thing.”

Luka nodded, slowly processing. “Good to know.”

“Sorry,” Marinette whispered, peeking anxiously at him. Her heart sank when she saw the hurt that he wasn’t entirely able to hide.

Luka forced a smile, thinking it was ridiculous to feel personally betrayed over something as inconsequential as food preferences. “It’s okay,” he lied as he wondered what else he didn’t know about her, what else she’d been keeping from him.

“Sorry,” she repeated before turning her attention back to Adrien. “Hey, would you want to hang out now? Luka mentioned you’re on a Frozen kick lately. Would you want to watch Frozen II? I haven’t seen it yet.”

Adrien was tempted to say yes. He wanted nothing more than to cuddle with Marinette and Luka on the couch and savor that sense of rightless and belonging he’d felt not fifteen minutes before when they’d been loving on Marinette…but he got the feeling that he needed to go.

Luka was obviously not feeling too great about discovering that his girlfriend had been leading a double life of sorts, and he and Marinette probably needed to talk about that and get things sorted out.

Adrien needed to go for his own sake too. This was all overwhelming. Too much had happened in the hour he’d been there, and he knew he should take a step back and process. It was liable to all hit him at once and reduce him to a puddle of snot and tears. It would be better to go home and mentally sort through it, acclimate, and then come back another day to spend more time with Marinette, with Luka and Marinette both. He should be taking baby steps, not plunging right in.

“Could I get a raincheck to do that another day?” Adrien asked sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I really need to get home and do laundry and…you know, process. Today was a lot—a lot of good things,” he hastened to add, “…but still a lot. If that’s okay?”

Marinette nodded, hopping down off of her stool to come give him a crushing hug. “Of course,” she assured into his shoulder. “Always do what’s best for you. I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.”

“Dinner with your parents on Wednesday,” Adrien blurted out. “What time?”

She pulled back with a wide grin. “Cooking starts at five. Dinner at six. I’ll make sure it’s vegetarian in case your stomach isn’t feeling strong that day, so just come whenever. Stay as long or as short of a time as you want. We’ll be thrilled to have you for any length of time at all.”

“Thanks.” Adrien let out a relieved sigh. “But the whole meal doesn’t have to be vegetarian. I know your dad loves his coq au vin and beef bourguignon. I’ll be okay.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, giving his arm a pat. “Papa will be okay eating vegetarian at least one meal a week. His cholesterol levels will thank you. Besides, he adores you, so it’ll be easier to get him to try ‘weird’ vegetables if he thinks he’s doing it for your benefit.”

Adrien broke out in a laugh. “My Lady is sly and shrewd as ever.”

Marinette waggled her eyebrows playfully.

“I’ll walk Adrien down,” Luka volunteered with an easygoing smile, coming over to Adrien’s side. “Ready?”

Adrien nodded.

“Don’t be a stranger, Chaton.” Marinette gave his arm a squeeze before stepping back and letting him go. “I’ll see you on Wednesday?”

“I’ll be there,” Adrien promised as he turned to go.

Luka and Adrien were quiet as they descended the stairs to the ground level.

Adrien reached the bottom first and looked back up at Luka, a worried frown causing a dip in his brow. “Are you okay?”

Luka stopped two steps from the bottom to blink in confusion. “Am…I okay?” He laughed, coming down to Adrien’s level to give Adrien’s hair a tussle. “P5, I feel like I should be the one asking you. That was really intense up there.”

“Yeah, and I’m probably going to have a meltdown once I stop and think about everything like how Marinette said she loves me, but she really doesn’t, and she’s not going to be able to once we get to know each other again, so…” The creases in Adrien’s brow deepened. “Where was I going with this? There was supposed to be a ‘but’ somewhere. This was supposed to be a positive sentence.”

“Hey.” Luka stepped in, hands going to Adrien’s back and pulling him into a hug. “You’re okay.”

Adrien sighed, letting his eyes slip closed as he melted into Luka’s arms, his familiar pine scent sending a rush of chemicals to Adrien’s brain, promoting a sense of calm and wellbeing.

“Yeah,” Adrien agreed.

“And you’re going to be okay,” Luka continued, running a hand up and down Adrien’s back. “You know, as much as you’re different now than you were a year ago, you haven’t actually changed at all.”

Adrien lifted his head to blink uncomprehendingly up at Luka. “Wha-What?”

“Not the important bits,” Luka clarified. “Not the things that actually make you you, Adrien. You’re different, but none of the things Marinette loved about the old you have changed.”

All Adrien could do was stare.

“I know her,” Luka insisted softly, “and I know you…and she is going to fall in love with you all over again.”

Adrien ducked his head, pulling Luka back to him, hiding his face in Luka’s shoulder.

“You’ll see,” Luka promised, pressing a kiss to the side of Adrien’s head. “Like Rose would say, it’s not going to be all unicorns and rainbows, but it’s going to work out. You’re going to be fine.”

It was nearly two minutes before Adrien could get himself together enough to respond.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

He didn’t have to ask if Luka was sure. Luka had been right the entire time. Adrien was through doubting just because he was scared to believe. If Luka said that things with Marinette would work out, everything was going to be fine.

“Do you need me to take you home? It’d be no trouble,” Luka offered, giving Adrien a squeeze as he trembled. “If you want to be alone to process, I wouldn’t have to stay…just get you home and leave?”

Adrien pushed back, shaking his head and pulling himself together. “No. Thank you, but no. I’ll be okay. I need you to go back upstairs and talk things out with your girlfriend. Things won’t be okay between her and me, if things aren’t okay between her and you…plus, I want you to be okay, and you don’t look okay right now,” Adrien added, worry clear in his eyes as he gazed up, studying Luka’s expression.

Luka sighed. “That obvious, huh?”

Adrien nodded, smiling in consolation. “You’re doing that thing where you’re not okay, but you think people you care about need you to be strong, so you push your own needs and feelings down to deal with later because the other person’s needs are more important to you.”

“Ah,” Luka chuckled ironically, mentally kicking himself for causing Adrien to worry. “You noticed.”

“Of course I noticed,” Adrien sighed, reaching up to cup Luka’s cheek and play absentmindedly with his hair. “I’ve only been watching you do it up close and personal for a year now. I saw you do it before too. With Marinette. With your family. Maybe it seemed like I didn’t notice because I’ve been a wreck, but I know how close I came to breaking you at times, and I’m sorry.”

Adrien went up on his tiptoes to press a kiss to Luka’s forehead.

He pulled back and smiled as Luka looked down at him, stunned.

“Sorry,” Adrien repeated. “But don’t neglect yourself anymore, okay? I care about you, so stop putting yourself last. You and I are a team too, so lean on me a little sometimes, okay? I know in the past you haven’t felt like that was an option, but…on my good days, I want to be there to support you like you’ve supported me on my bad days.”

Luka dropped his head to Adrien’s shoulder, pulling Adrien in tight.

“Shhh,” Adrien shushed as Luka began to tremble.

“It’s okay.” Adrien started to purr as he moved his hand up and down Luka’s back just like Luka had done for him hundreds of times.

“It doesn’t feel okay,” Luka admitted into Adrien’s neck. “I thought she trusted me. I thought we didn’t have any secrets. I told her everything. All the ugly stuff I didn’t want anyone to know. The things I struggled with in the past, the things going on in my life now, the things I wanted for my future. Everything,” Luka hissed.

Adrien gave him a squeeze to let Luka know that Adrien was there with him.

“I told her about Viperion because I couldn’t lie to her like that, but…” He shook his head. “I thought she was my other half. I thought I knew her as well as I knew myself, but…I was wrong…and now I’m wondering who she really is and what else she isn’t telling me.”

“You understand why she did it, though?” Adrien prompted gently.

He could feel Luka nod against his neck. “I understand. She had a lot of pressure on her. That’s a big responsibility, everyone’s lives depending on you, but…a part of me wants her to have made an exception for me. Like…does she not trust me? Doesn’t she love me enough?”

“I felt the same way when she wouldn’t let us tell each other our identities,” Adrien hummed sympathetically. “I was really surprised last week when I found out for sure she hadn’t told you. She said you were safer if no one knew they could get to Ladybug through you. In a way, it makes sense, but…I would have told you, if I were in her place.”

“You did tell me,” Luka chuckled softly, pulling back and straightening up.

Adrien shrugged, caressing Luka’s cheek. “I told you I would have.”

Luka forced a brave smile. “Thanks.”

Adrien bit his lip, hating the pain still lingering in Luka’s watery eyes. “Hey.”

“Hm?” Luka inclined his head, placing his hand on top of Adrien’s trapping it against his cheek.

“She’s still the same person. Trust me. I’ve had a year to lose sleep over this,” Adrien assured, laughing self-deprecatingly, “and I’ve come to understand that there was a reason why I fell so silly in love with the both of them. Ladybug is just Marinette in focus mode,” he explained.

Luka frowned, puzzling over the words.

Adrien shook his head. “She’s not a totally different person who you don’t know with some secret life you know nothing about. She’s still Marinette…she just saves Paris thrice weekly in her spare time. Don’t think too hard about this,” he entreated.

His voice and eyes softened as he smiled up at Luka. “She’s still your other half. There’s just a little bit more to learn about her now, a few more ways in which she’s the most amazing girl you’ve ever met. Don’t let this ruin what you have,” he begged. “You two are so beautiful together.”

Adrien’s smile turned bittersweet. “I’d kill to have that with someone.”

“Oh, Adrien,” Luka sighed.

Adrien shook his head, stepping back, pulling away. “Go up there and let her know that she hurt you. Let her know that if she hurts you again, she’s going to have to deal with me.”

Adrien winked, and Luka burst out laughing.

“My hero,” Luka snickered, but then his voice softened into a more genuine tone. “What would I do without you, Perfect Fifth?”

Adrien shrugged. “Be miserable, Orpheus. We both know I give your life joy and meaning.”

Luka snorted in laughter. “That you do.” He leaned in, giving Adrien’s cheek a kiss. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

Adrien nodded, turning toward the front door. “I’m just going home and doing laundry. Plagg will call if I need you. You know that.”

“Good old Plagg,” Luka sighed. “I’ll check up on you later, okay?”

“I know you will,” Adrien sang, waving back over his shoulder as he went. “Go make up with your girlfriend.”

Nino was in Adrien’s kitchen microwaving calzones when he arrived home.

“Luka called you,” Adrien accused, setting the little takeaway box of day-old Tom and Sabine’s passionfruit and cheesecake macarons down on the counter.

“Luka texted me.” Nino shrugged, setting the plate with the calzones on the island before heading back to the fridge to fetch the marinara sauce for dipping.

“What did he say?” Adrien hummed, picking up a calzone and beginning to tear off the corner. He dropped it when the steam from inside the pizza pocket burned his fingers. “Youch!”

Nino whipped around. “Dude,” he chastised, glaring as he shooed Adrien away. “Did you not just see me take those out of the microwave?”

Adrien shrugged, giving Nino a winning, “how could you blame me for anything?” smile.

Nino glared harder, not affected by Adrien’s tricks.

Adrien shrugged again, conveying that it had been worth a shot.

Shaking his head, Nino turned back to the fridge. “He just said to please check on you and that you’d probably be home in fifteen minutes.” He turned and placed the plastic cups of marinara next to the plate, gingerly popping their tops off. “What’s up?”

Adrien groaned, reaching for the calzone once more.

Nino smacked his hand. “Dude.”

Adrien shot his best friend a wounded expression.

Nino wagged a finger pointedly in Adrien’s face. “Mec, use a fork and knife.”

“Alya says only pretentious, elitist snobs eat pizza with a fork and knife,” Adrien parroted, getting even Alya’s inflection perfect.

Nino rolled his eyes. “Calzones aren’t pizza. They’re pizza-adjacent.”

“Right.” Adrien grabbed the piece he’d already torn off and dipped it into the sauce.

Nino let loose a longsuffering sigh, going to get a fork and knife for himself. “So why did Luka text me to come check on you?”

Adrien paused mid-chew to stare distractedly down at his food as if it were suddenly the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.

“Adrien? Come on. Don’t freeze me out. You okay?” Nino prompted.

Adrien shook his head, swallowing. “Marinette kissed me and told me she loved me, and I’m pretty sure Luka and Marinette asked me on a date—like, both of them. Like, I think they want me to be their boyfriend, and how the hell did I get so lucky? but at the same time that’s kind of terrifying? so I’m kind of trying not to implode right now.”

Nino stared wide-eyed at Adrien for a minute before he could formulate a response.

Adrien looked up to his friend for guidance, eyes begging for reassurance and answers.

Nino took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “Shit,” he replied.

Adrien sighed, disappointed in Nino’s sage advice. “Yeah. I got that far on my own, thanks,” he snorted.

Nino clicked his tongue. “None of your sass, Child. But I’m going to smack Luka. How could he possibly think springing all this on you was a good idea?”

Adrien shrugged, carefully tearing off another piece of calzone. “I don’t think he did. Marinette kind of had the reigns of the conversation. Luka was just trying to mitigate the damage.”

Nino sighed, shaking his head as he studied Adrien intently. “You okay, Mec? Anything you want to talk about?”

Adrien looked back down at his food, considering. “No. I think I’ve done enough talking for today. I can’t handle any more feelings or emotions right now. Can we just hang out and maybe play Smash Brothers or something? I need to turn my brain off and not deal with anything serious for a couple hours.”

“Gotcha. Can do,” Nino assured, reaching out and giving Adrien’s hair a tussle.

Chapter Text

Luka took a deep breath as he reached out for the doorknob. Then he stood there, out in the hallway, for a solid minute, mentally preparing himself to renter the apartment and face Marinette.

He was tempted to just go home, just leave his guitar, leave his wallet, leave his phone, and come back later when he wasn’t feeling so raw. He didn’t want to deal with this. He didn’t want to fix things. He just wanted to be upset for a little while, languish in his feelings for once…but if he didn’t have his phone, he might miss a call from Adrien—or worse: a call from Plagg because Adrien was too catatonic or stubborn to call himself.

Luka’s grip on the doorknob tightened reflexively as he shuddered at the thought.

And then there was the way Adrien had begged Luka to sort things out with Marinette.

Luka breathed a heavy sigh, sucked it up, and opened the door.

Marinette wasn’t in the living/dining/kitchen area, so Luka began his slow trudge up the steps to her room, knocking at the trapdoor and waiting to the count of three before pushing it open.

Marinette spun her desk chair around to face him. “How’s Adrien?”

Her eyes were a little red and damp.

His heart ached at the sight. He wanted to go to her, to wrap her in his arms and make everything okay for her.

But he didn’t. He went over to the chaise where he’d left his guitar and his phone.

“Is he okay? I overwhelmed him, didn’t I?” she started splutter. “I’m sorry. You were right. I shouldn’t have kissed him like that. It was too much. I rushed everything and messed it all up. I—”

“—Marinette?” Luka cut her off gently. “Could you give me just a second? I’m texting Nino to go over there and check on him.”

“Oh.” Marinette tucked her hands underneath her thighs and pressed her lips together, suddenly going silent.

Luka dashed off a quick message and then smiled at the immediate, affirmative reply. “Okay. Nino said he’s on it.”

Luka sank to the chaise, setting down the phone beside him so that Marinette would know that she had his undivided attention. “Adrien’s…freaking out a little. He just needs to process. He’ll be all right. You didn’t break him or anything.”

Marinette breathed a huge sigh of relief.

“He does this. He gets overwhelmed easily nowadays, and then he needs to go freak out and have a bit of a meltdown, but then he’s okay again. He’s going to be okay,” Luka assured, attempting to explain the process.

Marinette began to nod, but her eyes were a little glassy. She looked like she was going to cry again at the slightest encouragement.

Luka mentally sighed, seeing that there wasn’t space for his hurt feelings over the Ladybug thing to be addressed. So he did what he always did: he pushed it all down and focused on her.

“Are you okay, Chanson?”

Because what right did he actually have to be upset with her? She literally rebuilt Paris and brought people back from the dead a couple times a week. Who was he to get pouty that his girlfriend hadn’t seen fit to inform him that she was a superhero?

He understood why she hadn’t, what she had said about feeling trapped and silenced, like she didn’t have the option to ask for help. He understood. He really did.

It still hurt.

Marinette shook her head, replying in a tiny, brittle voice, “No.”

He was supposed to get up and go to her. He was supposed to hold her, be there for her, make it okay.

He didn’t. He didn’t feel like it. He didn’t have the energy.

“No,” she repeated. “I’m not okay.”

Neither was he.

“Luka, I screwed everything up.” Tears slowly did begin to fall. “I should have listened to you. I should have talked to him.”

Luka remained silent. What could he do but agree with her?

“I wasn’t thinking. I just assumed.” Her voice pitched up almost into a whine, and she began to speak faster. “I just assumed that he blamed me as much as I blamed myself. It seemed so obvious that he would hate me and never want to see me again after that. But I was so, so wrong. He needed me, and I wasn’t there. I never thought he’d feel like I abandoned him. I didn’t…think.”

“Oh, Chanson,” Luka sighed, opening his arms to her.

She pushed off out of the chair and was at his side in an instant, sinking onto the chaise beside him, curling up against him, wrapping her arms around his torso and tucking her head under his chin.

“I messed up so badly, Luka. There’s no way I can ever make this up to him.” Her voice and body shook.

He gave her a bolstering squeeze, running a hand up and down her arm. “Maybe not immediately, maybe not all at once…but maybe over days and weeks and months and years you could. Maybe you could eventually if you stuck it out and made it up to him in installments.”

She pulled back slightly to study his face. “Installments?”

Luka nodded. “Be there for him from now on, and maybe each day that you are will help to make up, in some small part, for the days that you weren’t. Maybe if you keep being there for him consistently, after a couple years, it will start to feel a little more okay.”

A small smile gradually rolled across her face like a cloud passing to reveal the sun.

“You’re so wonderful, Bluebird. You always know what to say.” She leaned in, pressing her lips to his in a closed-mouth kiss of gratitude and affection.

He started to kiss back, to just let everything be fine and return to normal, but then a stray thought hit him: “I don’t know her as well as I thought I did”, and he pulled away.

Marinette’s eyelashes fluttered open, and she gazed at her boyfriend in confusion.

“Sorry,” Luka mumbled, dropping his arms to his sides and scooting back, putting some space between them. “I…” He shook his head. “Sorry. A lot on my mind. Do you mind if I…?” He indicated his guitar with a tip of his head.

Marinette put on a cheery smile and took the liberty of retreating a little on her end. “Not at all. Go ahead,” she encouraged and listened as Luka began to play a confused, twisted melody in the Phrygian mode that occasionally seemed to wonder off and, at other times, to chase its own tail.

Marinette could hear how troubled Luka was in the brooding tune. She listened for a minute or two as he worked out his thoughts and feelings in the song.

Then she took a deep breath. “You know…I didn’t just mean Adrien when I said I’d messed everything up earlier.”

Luka’s fingers paused on the strings, and a poignant G sharp echoed with a twang.

Tentatively, he looked up to meet her contrite gaze.

“I screwed up with you too, Luka. I’m sorry.”

He licked his lips and swallowed, buying time with which to wrangle his thoughts.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you…. I couldn’t,” she added more softly.

With a deep sigh, Luka set down the guitar and angled his body towards hers. “You know, I understand. I can practically see you having one of your out-of-control spirals, thinking something like, ‘Everyone’s depending on me. I can’t mess up. If I mess up, the whole world could end, and it would be all my fault’. Logically, my brain understands why you made the choices you did. Rationally, I can see why you felt like you didn’t have any other choice.”

She winced. “But…?”

“Being able to look at things logically doesn’t make them hurt any less,” he muttered.

She reached out, tentatively slipping her hand into his. She didn’t apologize again, knowing that it would only feel cheap and insincere in light of her actions.

She knew that actions were what really counted with Luka, and her actions would drown out any meek apology she managed.

“…It still feels like you didn’t trust me,” he continued softly, staring down at her thumb as it traced his knuckles back and forth. “I know that trust had nothing to do with it in your mind, but, to me, it feels like you didn’t trust me with your secret…even though I trusted you with every single one of mine.”

She nodded, accepting his sedate accusations without protest or attempt at defense or excusal.

“That feels pretty crumby, when you trust someone with everything, think you know them and they know you completely, only to find out how in the dark you were.” Luka pulled his hand away, grabbing his guitar and beginning to strum aimlessly in an agitated G sharp minor.

“I feel pretty stupid now that I realize how often you’ve lied to me,” he snickered, a wounded grin ripping his lips apart. “Your excuses were so ludicrous at times, but I believed you because I just took it for granted that you would never lie to me. I thought we didn’t have any secrets. I thought we told each other everything. Part of me still wants to believe that Ladybug was the only secret, that you only lied because you felt that you had to, but…now I’m wondering if I’m just naïve and gullible. What else have I been willfully blind to?”

Just as the song seemed to be coming to an end, Luka’s melody moved into a deceptive cadence, shifting suddenly in an unexpected direction, away from resolution.

Marinette’s gaze dropped to her hands, guilt throbbing in her chest, welling up into her throat.

“I mean…” Luka chuckled ironically. “I’ve always known that I’m more in love with you than you are with me, but—”

“—Luka,” Marinette gasped softly, hands flying to grasp his.

He looked up, eyes boring through her, searching desperately. “Do you love me?” he wondered. “Really?”

“You know I do,” she insisted.

Reflexively, he began to shake his head.

“You know I do,” she repeated with more force.

“I couldn’t keep a secret like that from the woman I loved,” he whispered, lips flattening into a sad smile. “I couldn’t. I couldn’t, so I didn’t. I trusted you…and it feels like you didn’t trust me. It feels like you didn’t love me enough.”

“Luka, I couldn’t tell anyone,” Marinette finally began to argue, gripping at his right hand tightly. “This has nothing to do with our relationship. I have never told anyone. This isn’t about you.”

He laughed, and icy blue eyes starting to shimmer with tears he wouldn’t let fall. Ironically, his mouth smiled. “I know. I’m probably the least egotistical person in this city, Marinette. I know this has nothing to do with me and everything to do with the greater good and the rules and the safety of Paris. I know that I was never even a factor under consideration. I know how silly I’m being right now, but…can’t it be about me? Can’t I make it about me just this once?”

She stared at him in surprise as if he were a string that had suddenly snapped on her.

He pulled his hands back, turning his body away from her as he changed keys and started on a new theme. “I spend so much time being there for others—not that I mind. I do it because I care for those people, but…I spend so much time being there for others…and I am rarely there for myself. Aren’t I allowed to be selfish and ridiculous this once and make this about me and how I’m feeling? Because I know I’m dating Paris’s savior and that she has a job to do and a lot of people who depend on her, but…I don’t have the energy today to pretend that I’m fine when I’m not. I don’t want to push my own feelings aside right now. I don’t feel like being the mature, rational adult I’ve felt like I’ve had to be since I was ten.”

Marinette’s mouth dropped open. “…Why is this the first time that I’m hearing about this? Why haven’t you said anything before?” Her voice hitched and took on a panicked tone. “Are you telling me that there have been times before when you’ve just pretended to be okay even though you weren’t? Is this a common occurrence?”

With a long sigh, Luka shrugged. “Other more important things were going on. There wasn’t really time for me not to be fine. This isn’t a weekly thing, but…this isn’t a rare thing either.”

“What could possibly be more important than you not being okay?” she demanded in a bit of a whine.

“Juleka, my mom, Adrien…you,” he listed. “Usually it’s someone needing me to be strong and be their support, and I can’t not take care of the people I love…. And people just assume that I’ve got my stuff together. It’s not usually a big deal. It’s usually fine…just, right now, it’s really, really not fine.”

Marinette blew out a sigh, letting her head drop into her hands.

Luka continued to strum sulkily in the background as Marinette tried to get her frantically whirling thoughts together.

“I’ve screwed up worse than I thought,” she finally mumbled, raising her head to smile in resignation at her defeat. “Is there any way that I could make it up to you in installments too? I want us to be okay…or are you breaking up with me?”

Luka’s fingers faltered, wringing a sour C natural out of the strings. His gaze snapped up to meet hers. “W-What? No. Of course I’m not breaking up with you. Chanson, you are it. Frankly, you being Ladybug only makes you even more perfect and astounding and wonderful…irrespective of me being upset that you kept such a big secret from me. I-I love you. …I want things to be okay between us again too.”

Marinette let out a relieved breath, nodding. “Okay. Okay. Good. So…talk to me. What do I need to do? What needs to happen?”

Luka set aside the guitar and swung around to face her on the chaise, one leg tucked underneath him. “I think I just need to be allowed to be hurt for a while.”

Marinette’s forehead creased as her eyebrows drew together. Her lips puckered slightly, but she nodded. “Okay. Yeah. That’s fair. So…?”

“I think it’s just going to take some time, Marinette,” he answered honestly. “Adrien told me that Ladybug is just Marinette in focus mode…but he knows Ladybug a lot better than I do. I can see the similarities from the times I worked with Ladybug—I did notice them when we were working together—but… It’s hard reconciling all of this. I feel like…I thought I knew Marinette. I thought we were a team. I thought we were so in sync, but I was wrong, so now I feel like everything is off between us…. I don’t feel close to you right now.”

She scooted in, hesitantly taking his hands in hers. “I’m sorry. Luka, you do know me. Nothing has changed. You still know who I am…maybe…you even understand me a little better now that you’ve got all of the puzzle pieces. You’ll see. Give it time. You’ll see I’m still me…we’re still us.”

He gave her hands a light squeeze. “You promise?”

She nodded vehemently. “You’ll see…and I’m going to start doing better. I’m going to listen to you. I’m going to listen to you when it comes to Adrien. I’m going to start asking for help when I feel overwhelmed. I’m going to talk to you when things are bothering me instead of trying to deal with everything myself.”

“Will you actually think about talking to a therapist like I’ve been suggesting for the past five years?” Luka tested.

Marinette pulled a face, grimacing at the prospect. “…I…I told Adrien I would go with him to see his. We’ll see how that goes.”

Luka nodded, satisfied. “All right. Thank you, Marinette.”

She stared into his eyes for a beat, searching them. “…Do you really think I don’t love you as much as you love me?”

He averted his eyes with a cool shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just left over from the first two years we knew each other, but I know I wasn’t your first choice. It’s not as if I think you don’t care about me—I know you do. I know you love me. I just…I’ve always felt like maybe you’d be okay without me, but I couldn’t live without you.”

“Luka,” she scolded gently in exasperation. “Oh, Luka…no…. There was a reason why I didn’t ask you out until I was sixteen. I knew I was a mess and my heart was conflicted. It’s true that I never got over my feelings for Adrien, but I waited to start something with you until I was sure I wouldn’t be using you as a rebound. I waited until I knew that I wanted you just because you were you. You have never been someone I’ve just settled for. Luka, I’m sorry if I don’t express it in ways that mean something to you, but I promise that I do love you…so, so much,” she swore insistently, inching closer as she squeezed his hands.

He blinked at her, gobsmacked. “You…You really mean all that?”

“Of course I do,” she breathed.

Luka found himself leaning in, gravitating towards her as their eyes locked.

“I promise you, I am going to actively work on showing you just how much I adore you, just how loved and cared for you really are. I’m going to spoil you,” she vowed, already making plans.

“I could do with a little pampering,” he confessed, letting his eyes slip closed as his mouth met hers.

She kissed him gently yet meaningfully, not wasting a single moment as she matched her actions to her words.

Marinette pulled back a minute or so later, giggling and smiling at the blissful expression on Luka’s face. “Come on. Bed,” she insisted, pulling him to his feet and tugging him over to the ladder up to her loft. “Let’s snuggle and kiss. Earlier, you said you didn’t feel close to me right now. Let’s fix that. Let’s get back in sync.”

Luka paused, looking up at her as she turned back to him. For a moment, he debated whether he wanted to fix things just yet or whether he wanted to wallow a bit more.

She smiled patiently, mindful of not being too pushy. “If you’re ready,” she offered him the opportunity to say no.

He didn’t want to say no.

“Okay,” he breathed. “But you should know that Adrien said if you hurt me again, you’ll have to deal with him.”

Marinette burst out laughing. “Oh my gosh! Oh, and I bet you loved that, didn’t you? I bet you went a little weak in the knees.”

Luka shrugged, motioning her up the ladder so that he could climb up after her. “Not going to lie; Adrien acting all heroic and chivalrous? So hot, and incredibly touching. I want him to feel protective of me all the time.”

Marinette flopped down on her bed, shaking her head, a wide, wide grin stretching across her entire face.

She opened her arms.

Luka readily accepted the invitation, lying down beside her and scooting in close.

Despite the big revelation, she still smelled and tasted and felt the same. Maybe Marinette really was still Marinette. Maybe they really could still be them.

Luka wanted Marinette to be right. He wanted them to be okay.

Chapter Text

“Plagg?” Adrien called, lacking the strength necessary to move his arm from where it was currently flung over his eyes.

Plagg paused, balancing on top of the tennis ball which he had been rolling around the coffee table. “Yeah?”

“I feel hungover,” Adrien announced.

Adrien had been hungover exactly once. For the sixth-month anniversary of his father’s death, Nino had let Adrien get blackout drunk, and it was an experience that Adrien was not keen to repeat.

He didn’t remember much besides the fact that he had ugly-cried about Marinette and Ladybug and decided that he needed a complete wardrobe makeover because he simply could not wear anything he owned ever again.

He was afraid that he might have thrown himself at Luka who had arrived two hours too late to stop Nino from enabling Adrien to make bad decisions.

All Adrien knew for sure was that he’d woken up naked in bed with Nino, feeling like someone had Cataclysmed his head. Luka, who had slept out on the couch, forced Nino to clean up the vomit while Luka made Adrien avocado toast and scrambled eggs, made sure Adrien drank plenty of water, and ran out to the store for painkillers.

Nino was not allowed to supervise Adrien unsupervised for a month afterwards.

“Is it possible to get an emotional hangover?” Adrien wondered.

Plagg gave a tired sigh. “If anyone could do it, it would be you.”

“I have an emotional hangover,” Adrien decided. “Too many emotions in one day.”

“…Are we done crying now?” Plagg wondered without a hint of sarcasm, genuinely curious.

Adrien found the strength to drop the arm over his face to his side. “Yeah. I think so. I think I’m done freaking out for now.”

Plagg nodded. “That’s good. Are you hungry? It’s been a couple hours since you had that calzone Nino made you.”

Adrien stopped to think about it, really concentrating on what he was feeling.

His stomach gurgled, saving him time and effort.

Plagg snickered. “It sounds like that’s a yes. Do you want me to heat something up for you?” he inquired as he flew over to the fridge and phased through it. A second later he phased back out to report, “It looks like you’ve got some of that pumpkin chili Luka made you, some takeaway pad thai, the rest of the curry Alya sent over with Nino the other day, and half a box of veggie pizza that you probably need to think about throwing out. …Any of that sounding good?”

Slowly, Adrien pushed himself up to sitting and forced himself off of the couch to join his friend. “Thanks, Plagg, but I can get it. I know it’s hard for you to carry things that much bigger than you.”

“Kid, I am a deity of chaos and destruction. I can manage Tupperware,” Plagg protested flatly, eliciting a fond smile from Adrien.

“I don’t know, Plagg,” Adrien chuckled, reaching out a finger to scratch under his kwami’s chin. “I—”

There was a knock at the apartment door, cutting him off.

Plagg whizzed over to the peephole and looked out.

“Luka?” Adrien asked hopefully, his heart leaping up into his throat in anticipation.

Plagg shook his head. “Alya. I’ll go make myself scarce. Don’t keep her waiting; she’s got her arms full.”

Adrien hurried around the island, out of the kitchen, and to the door where, on the other side, Alya was, indeed, waiting with a large sack of groceries.

“Hey, Alya,” Adrien greeted awkwardly, wondering if she’d stopped by on her way home from doing the shopping. Alya and Nino’s apartment was only a few blocks away…but usually Nino did the groceries.

“Hey,” she replied and then seemed to get distracted as she really looked at him, studying him.

Adrien shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry. Nino’s not here,” he rushed to explain. “He left a little over an hour ago. I don’t know where he is. Sorry.”

Alya laughed, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. “Well, it’s a good thing I came to see you, then, isn’t it? Can I come in?”

“Oh! Sorry. Sure.” He stepped back out of the way and nearly tripped over his own feet doing so.

“Smooth,” she snickered, making her way over to the kitchen counter to set down the grocery bag.

“It’s my innate skill as a former model,” he responded straight-faced. “We’re all graceful and nimble. Like gazelles.”

“I can see that.” She rolled her eyes once more for good measure, but then, as she turned to face him, her expression became serious.

Adrien instinctively tensed, back on his guard.

“Hey. Sunshine? We need to talk.”

The bottom dropped out of Adrien’s stomach, and his body went cold. “Is this about Nino?”

Alya’s features began to shift into a frown of confusion.

“I’m sorry,” Adrien launched right into an apology, not waiting for her accusations. “I know it’s not right to hog your boyfriend like I do. I’ll talk to him about spending less time over here. I won’t call him as often. I’ll stop—”

“—Whoa, whoa. Hang on a sec,” Alya interrupted, putting up her hands. “Adrien, that is not what this is about.”

Adrien blinked. It felt like he’d missed a step going down stairs. “It’s not?’

Alya shook her head, brow furrowed deeply. “No. But since you mentioned it, Sunflower, the you-and-Nino-thing isn’t a big deal.”

“It’s not?” Adrien repeated, not really registering. The conversation was moving too fast in unexpected ways, and his brain couldn’t keep up after the workout it’d already had that day.

“No,” Alya insisted firmly. “Like, at all. Okay, yeah,” she admitted with a roll of her eyes. “Are there times I’d rather have my boyfriend in my bed than in yours? Yes. Absolutely, but it’s not like I’m mad at you about it. It’s not like…” She winced, remembering what Luka had said. “…like I resent you or anything.”

“You don’t?” Adrien asked in a small voice, still struggling to process.

“Oh my God, no,” Alya sighed, closing the distance between them in three strides and pulling him into a crushing hug. “No, Snowflake. No…. Man have I ever screwed up with you. Adrien…”

She pulled back so that he could see her face. “Adrien, I adore you. I want you to be happy and healthy. I want you to be okay. I want you to not need Nino and Luka anymore, but I want you to know that whenever you do need Nino, he’s yours. Like, that is one hundred percent okay with me, all right? I want you to have whatever you need to be okay. I care about you, Adrien. I’m sorry. Like, really, really sorry because I thought you already knew that.”

“…Oh.” It took Adrien a minute to think of more to say. “I mean…I know we used to be friends, but…I kind of thought that was a before-the-accident thing and now you just kind of tolerated me and helped keep me alive because you’re dating my best friend.”

She stared at him blankly for a beat before she determined that, no, he wasn’t kidding, and then a vaguely horrified expression formed. She dropped her head to his shoulder and groaned.

“No. Adrien, no. This is what we need to talk about, Sunshine.” She took a deep breath and lifted her head. “Can we go sit down in the kitchen and talk? I need to talk about some stuff that’s hard, and I’d feel better in the kitchen. Maybe it’s because of my mom, but I always feel better in the kitchen.”

“Uh…sure,” Adrien agreed, motioning for Alya to lead the way.

Adrien, remembering his manners, offered to get Alya a drink, and, once they both had glasses of Evian, they settled down on stools around the island.

Alya took a deep breath. “Okay. So…you remember when my dad was diagnosed with cancer a couple years ago?”

Adrien nodded. He’d had to fight with his own father to be allowed to attend the funeral.

“That was really hard for me,” she sighed, circling her finger around the rim of her glass. “Things were crazy and stressful…and just awful, really. Watching him waste away…”

She rolled her lips back over her teeth and bit down as she tried to organize her thoughts. “…It was like he was already gone while he was still here sometimes. Near the end, it was like I’d already lost my dad because he wasn’t the person he used to be. I don’t know if that makes any sense, but…it was months of grieving but not feeling like I was allowed to grieve yet. Losing him slowly was torture…and at the same time, I wasn’t able to really deal with my grief because I had to be there for my little sisters and for my mom.”

She looked up and smiled wanly. “Sorry. This probably sounds like a total non sequitur, but I promise there’s a point.”

Adrien only nodded encouragingly.

Alya drew in another long breath. “So, I was really stressed out and upset, and after…after he passed…I really appreciated the practical things people did like bringing over food so we didn’t have to cook or offering to pick up things at the store or helping us with funeral logistics. That was really wonderful…. What wasn’t wonderful,” she snorted, “was people trying to console me, telling me he was in a better place or that at least he wasn’t suffering anymore or that they were sorry for my loss. I didn’t want to talk to anybody,” she informed with a toss of her head.

“I didn’t want to hang out with people trying to distract me and take my mind off of things. What I wanted was for people to leave me the hell alone so that I could finally just deal with how I was feeling away from all of the people that were constantly hanging around, watching me like I was one of my dad’s zoo animals.”

She locked eyes with him, holding his gaze steadily. “When my father died, what I needed more than anything was space…so, when your father died, I thought that you needed space too.”

Adrien’s eyes widened, his mouth dropping into a silent “oh”.

Alya grimaced, her eyes pleading for understanding. “I thought that I was being a good friend by making sure there was food in your fridge and that your bills were paid and you had clean laundry. I thought you were fine with Luka and Nino there with you and that you’d reach out to me if and when you wanted someone else in your space. You and I are a lot alike, and somehow I thought that that meant you’d grieve your father like I did mine, so…I thought you wouldn’t want a lot of people around because I hadn’t wanted all those people in my face. I just wanted to be alone, so I thought you would too.”

“O-Oh,” Adrien was finally able to vocalize.

Her pained smile turned sheepish. “I thought I was doing the right thing, making you food, teaching you how to do laundry, giving you space. It was only the other day that I stopped to think that maybe I was wrong.”

“So…” Adrien swallowed thickly and took a drink of water before he was able to get out, “You’re not mad at me for hogging Nino? You just…thought I didn’t want people around?”

Alya nodded. “I didn’t realize that, where I have my mom and sisters to go to anytime I want, you didn’t really have people to go to to share your grief. I didn’t realize that we, your friends, are your tribe. I didn’t stop to think that that meant me too. I’m sorry, Sunshine. I got it wrong. I meant well—I always meant well—but I got a lot of things really, really wrong.”

Adrien reached across the island, putting his hand on top of hers. “It’s okay.” He winced. “Okay. Not really, but…I appreciate that your heart was in the right place. I appreciate you giving me what you thought I needed, and I really did need someone to make sure I had electricity and hot water and food and clean clothes, so it’s not like you got everything wrong.”

She flipped her hand over so that she was holding his and smiled warmly in gratitude. “Would you be willing to let me try again to make things right?”

She nodded at the bag of groceries on the counter. “I brought over ingredients to make Colombo de Martinique. My mom’s recipe, just like you like it with fish and coconut milk. Would you want to cook dinner together and then maybe show me whatever Japanese drama you’re into now? Or maybe one with one of those guys from that boy band?”

Adrien instantly perked up. “Arashi?”

Alya nodded. “Yeah. That one. With the guy whose name is close to Nino’s.”

“Ninomiya,” Adrien agreed, getting excited. “Actually, there’s a drama with Nino in it based on a book by my favourite contemporary mystery writer that I’ve been meaning to watch. It’s called Ryuusei no Kizuna—uh…The Bond of the Shooting Star…roughly. There are ten episodes, though, so we wouldn’t be able to watch it in one sitting.”

“We’ll we could watch one or two episodes now, and I could always come back again,” Alya proposed. “Now that I realize you don’t need space, I’ll try to be physically present more—And know that you can call me whenever you need me too. I thought you knew that, but I’ve been proven wrong too many times for my own comfort lately, so I’m just making sure we’re clear: if you need me, Sunshine, you call me, okay? Even at two in the morning. Even if I’m at work. I’m here for you, okay?”

Adrien nodded, giving her hand one last squeeze before pulling away. “Thanks, Alya.”

His stomach chose that point to make its empty status known.

Adrien looked down, blinking in surprise for a moment before breaking into a laugh. “Sorry. Mind if I grab a snack before we start on dinner? I’ve had an exhaustingly emotional day, and I need some fuel.”

“Sure thing,” Alya chuckled, hopping down from her stool and going over to the sink to wash her hands. “What made today so draining?”

Adrien paused, hanging on the refrigerator door, sighing at the box of veggie pizza that he really needed to think about getting rid of. “Oh…you know…. I finally straightened out the big misunderstanding between me and Marinette, and then I think she and Luka heavily implied that they wanted to date me.”

Alya whipped around with a shriek of, “What?!”, flinging water droplets everywhere.

It was almost ten o’clock, and Adrien was sorely tempted to just call it a day. Really, he’d been through enough and didn’t actually think he could take any more excitement, but…

He picked up his phone and was disappointed for the forty-sixth time that day to see that he had no new texts from Luka.

“You should just call him,” Plagg offered helpfully through a sizeable chunk of Emmental. “You’re not going to be able to sleep for thinking about him.”

Adrien bit his lip, staring intently at the blank screen, willing it to light up with a text.

It did not oblige him.

Adrien sighed, setting the phone down on the piano bench beside him and going back to the notes on the page. He was working on Mozart’s Piano Concerto Number Twenty-Five, and the collaborative relationship between the soloist piano and the orchestra in the piece made it not so much fun to play his part without any other instruments.

He found himself wondering if Luka would be interested in playing with him. This thought segued into Adrien wondering if Luka had ever played the piece before.

Luka had only taken a real interest in the piano four years prior and had only added it to his official studies the year before last, but Luka was, unsurprisingly, a musical prodigy. In four years, Luka had achieved a command of the instrument surpassing that of Adrien’s with his life-long study.

Then again, Luka genuinely loved the piano whereas Adrien’s relationship with the instrument was still complicated.

Adrien sighed, lightly stroking the keys as a tentative smile began to form on his lips.

Despite everything, he was glad to have his piano back in his life.

He skipped ahead to the cadenza material in the score and wondered how Luka would handle it. Mozart had never actually written down the virtuosic piano solo for the piece, so it was really up to the soloist to fill in that part how they saw fit.

Whenever that happened in a piece, Adrien always used someone else’s cadenza. He’d never had the confidence to write his own, knowing that whatever he came up with would never be good enough for his father.

Adrien squinted at the page and thought, “…but my father’s not here anymore”.

He bit his lip.

Maybe…maybe he could ask Luka and they could write a cadenza together.

“You’re still thinking about him,” Plagg noted smugly.

Adrien snapped back to the present and blushed at being caught. “Am not,” he muttered sullenly.

Plagg rolled his eyes. “Just call him, for Paneer’s sake. You’re going to drive me crazy, Kid.”

“Maybe I’ll text him,” Adrien relented, picking up his phone once again.

“Don’t text him,” Plagg groaned. “You’ll be up all night waiting for him to text you back if he doesn’t respond right away.”

“I don’t want to call,” Adrien whined as he began to construct his text. “What if he’s with Marinette? I don’t want to disturb them. And what if he’s asleep? He had a tiring day too what with finding out his girlfriend is Ladybug and all of his feelings about that.”

Plagg let out a longsuffering sigh. “Fine. Whatever. What are you going to text him?”

Adrien frowned down at his phone and read, “‘I’m heading to bed. Goodnight!’ And then I’m debating about adding a little heart at the end. Is that too presumptuous? We’ve sent each other hearts before, but after today it just feels…” He held the phone out for Plagg to look at.

Plagg set down the rest of his Emmental and flew over to look. His nose immediately scrunched up. “People your age don’t text like that, you know. With all your punctuation and capitalization and complete sentences. You text like someone my age.”

“Hey,” Adrien whined, pulled the phone back. “I wanted your opinion on the content, not the form.”

“Add the heart,” Plagg advised, going back to his cheese. “He seemed a little unsure of your feelings for him today. Add the heart and give him some peace of mind.”

Adrien stared after his kwami for a minute, surprised at the legitimately helpful response. “…Thanks, Plagg.”

The kwami shrugged. “You’re welcome, Kid. I know you could use all the help you can get.”

Adrien gave an amused snort, shaking his head as he turned back to his phone. He added the heart and sent the message just as there was a knock at his door.

With a frown, Adrien got up from the piano and made his way over to the door.

There was no one there.

He poked his head out into the hallway in time to spot Luka walking back towards the stairwell.

“Luka!” he called out breathlessly as his heartbeat quickened.

Luka turned around to stare at Adrien in surprise. “Oh, hey. I just got your text.” His cheeks colored slightly as he made his way back over and stopped in front of Adrien. “I didn’t mean to disturb you while you were getting ready for bed. Sorry. Usually you stay up later.”

“You’re not disturbing me at all,” Adrien countered, waving his hands to emphasize the point. “Please, come in,” he insisted, stepping back out of the way so that Luka could enter the apartment.

 “Thanks.” Luka moved past Adrien and stood there awkwardly, a little unsure of where exactly they stood with one another after that day’s happenings.

Adrien shut the door and turned around to study the guy he was quickly accepting that he loved. “Are you okay? How did things with Marinette go? Come sit down and tell me,” Adrien instructed, leading the way over to the couch.

Luka obediently followed, sinking down into the white cushions with a sigh. He trained his gaze out the expansive windows. “I’m…going to be okay eventually, I think. Marinette and I talked.” He licked his lips reflexively, trying to get his thoughts in order. “We realized that there were things that we both needed to do better and work on, so…so we will, and it’ll be fine. Maybe it’s not exactly what I thought it was, but our relationship is solid, so…nothing to worry about,” he assured, turning to Adrien with a smile. “And how are you doing? Marinette really dumped a lot on you this morning, didn’t she?”

Adrien ran a hand through his hair, blowing out a heavy sigh. “Yeah. Yeah, she did. I had a bit of a freak-out after Nino left, but I think I’m going to be okay too. It’s going to take a while for Marinette and me to rebuild our relationship, but, today more than ever, I think it’s possible.”

“Good,” Luka let out a little breath of relief. “I’m really glad, P5.”

There was a beat, and Adrien hesitated before breaking the silence. “So…”

Luka inclined his head. “Hm?”

Adrien took a slow inhale. “Today, Marinette said that she loves me.”

Luka nodded, affirming, “She does.”

“…And, of course, you know that I love her too,” Adrien tentatively continued.

Luka kept nodding. “Yes.”

“…And…it was heavily implied that you…” Adrien bit his lip, losing his nerve. He didn’t have the courage to say “that you were in love with me too” just in case saying it out loud broke the spell and made it untrue.

“Oh.” Luka’s face fell.

“…but you never actually said that…” Adrien floundered.

Luka shook his head. “Adrien, I…”

“Do-you-love-me?” Adrien finally got out in a high-pitched squeak, running the words all together.

Luka paled, the words dying in his throat.

“Or at least have feelings for me,” Adrien quickly amended. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to presume, but…the way you and Marinette were talking…I’m sorry if I misunderstood. There was a lot going on, but I…”

He trailed off, noticing that Luka was staring at him as if Adrien was threatening him with a Cataclysm. It left Adrien feeling cold and terrified that he’d gotten it wrong.

“…Do you…not have feelings for me?”

His heart felt like it was disintegrating and blowing away in the wind.

Luka sighed, head dropping to his chest. “Adrien, I’m sorry.”

It had been a while since Adrien had last felt that awful. At least, that awful in that kind of way. He remembered the last time he’d confessed to Ladybug only to be told that she’d had a boyfriend for months at that point and that he’d completely misread her actions when he’d thought he’d had a chance with her.

It was happening again. Adrien was about to get rejected.

He started to mentally shut down in order to keep from reacting when the blow came. He began rehearsing how he would say, “It’s okay. I just misunderstood. Totally no big deal” with a bright, cheery smile. He thought about how he’d make a show of being tired so that Luka would go away and leave Adrien alone to cry.

Meanwhile, Luka was internally panicking, trying to find the best words to explain himself as quickly as possible. He took a deep breath and forced himself to look Adrien in the eye. “Adrien, I swear to you that I have never taken advantage of the situation.”

Adrien blinked, coming out of his thought spiral into confusion.

Luka forged ahead, not seeming to notice. “This past year, every time I held you or kissed your cheek or the top of your head or snuggled with you or shared a bed with you, I swear I was only doing it as your friend. I know this looks bad, but I promise that I would never take advantage of you. I would never use your emotional vulnerability as an opportunity to steal affection from you.”

As Luka tried to reassure Adrien, Adrien’s face gradually twisted into a befuddled frown.

At the first natural pause, Adrien finally spoke up. “I’m sorry, but what are you talking about?”

Luka stared at Adrien, taken aback. “I…I’m trying to assure you that, even though I have feelings for you, I haven’t been using your periods of shaky mental health to act romantically with you. I mean…we snuggle in bed in our boxers. I can guess how bad that looks.”

“Wait,” Adrien demanded, scooting closer to Luka on the couch. His head was reeling. “You…you do have feelings for me?”

“I…Yeah,” Luka answered haltingly. “I do. I love you, Adrien, but I promise that I won’t make things weird between us. First and foremost, I’m your friend, and I will always do what’s best for you. If anything I do ever makes you uncomfortable, please, just tell me, and I—”

“—Wait,” Adrien cut in, struggling to keep up not for the first time that day. “Stop.” He placed his fingers over Luka’s lips, holding back the tide of words waiting to spill out.

Luka searched Adrien’s face, trying to orient himself. He felt so confused.

“Could you…” Adrien gulped. “Could you please say it again? That you love me?”

“…I love you,” Luka repeated meekly against Adrien’s fingers, his cheeks taking on a feverish flush as fear and apprehension shone in his eyes.

“I love you too,” Adrien breathed, barely able to contain the vibrant grin threatening to tear his face in half. His hand moved from Luka’s lips to caress his cheek.

“W-What?” Luka choked.

“I love you,” Adrien chuckled, voice filled with awe and delight. “I love you, Luka.”

A near-hysteric laugh caught Luka by surprise. “Y-You do?”

Adrien nodded.

“Thank God,” Luka whispered, arms tentatively going out to pull Adrien into him.

“I thought I was so obvious,” Adrien snickered self-deprecatingly as he tucked his head under Luka’s chin. “I’ve had a crush on you since the day we met. I didn’t always know that that’s what it was, but…you were the one who made me realize I was bi, and by the time I was sixteen, I was ridiculously infatuated with you.

“But you said you loved me,” Luka reminded, the vibrations of his throat buzzing against Adrien’s skin. “When did that happen?”

“Slowly,” Adrien sighed. “As I spent more time with you and you became one of my best friends…as we played duets and watched musicals and went to the opera and concerts and we talked until the stars started to disappear…as it became second nature to tell you everything and I slowly stopped having secrets from you…as you stayed by my side when it felt like everyone else was deserting me and as you took care of me and never seemed to mind when I woke you up in the middle of the night or dragged you away from something you’d rather be doing. I don’t know when exactly my crush stopped being just a crush, but…I think it’s been a few years now…and I just seem to keep falling deeper and deeper.”

“You never said anything,” Luka chuckled softly. “I never suspected… Why didn’t you say anything?”

Adrien pulled back to frown disappointedly at Luka. “Orpheus, it’s kind of in bad taste to tell your friend’s boyfriend that you’re in love with them. That kind of behaviour is generally frowned upon.”

“Oh.” Luka grimaced. “Right.”

Adrien rolled his eyes, pulling back further so that he was just holding Luka’s hands. “Right. Which brings us to an important point. You still have a girlfriend. I’m a little confused.”

Luka blew out a long sigh and nodded. “Right. Sorry. I can explain.”

Adrien tipped his head to the side, listening closely.

“I suppose I should admit that I’ve kind of had a thing for you since we met too.”

“Oh?” Adrien hummed, pleased at this development.

An embarrassed smile spread across Luka’s lips as he nodded. “Yeah. And Marinette told you about her own crush earlier, so… The truth is, neither of us really got completely over you. So, we decided that we were in an exclusive relationship where we would be physically faithful to one another but that our emotional infidelity when it came to you and only you didn’t count as cheating. Even flirting with you and light physical affection was deemed okay,” Luka explained. “Honestly, we enjoyed watching each other be all cute with you. I’ve gotten jealous of other guys hitting on Marinette, and Marinette doesn’t like it when other people flirt with me, but…when it was you, Marinette and I could each be happy that the other was happy, so…throughout our relationship you have always been our ‘exception’.”

Adrien nodded as Luka paused to let his words sink in.

“With me so far?” Luka checked.

“I think so.”

Luka took another breath and continued, “Things got a little more complicated after the accident. I mean, you had always been a physically affectionate person, so, just being your friend, cuddling and hugs and other little touches were pretty normal, but…after the accident, the level of physical affection you needed to help get you through the breakdowns and the anxiety attacks and the night terrors…that definitely felt more on the level of a romantic partner, so I was honest with Marinette. I told her that I felt like I was cheating on her, like this went beyond what was covered by you being our exception. I was in love with you at that point, and she knew that. Even though I wasn’t taking advantage of the situation, it still felt wrong for me to be that intimate with you, so I told her.”

“And what did she say?” Adrien had to wonder…and wonder what that meant for things between Luka and him in the future.

Luka shook his head, still not completely believing it. “She said it was fine. She said that, as long as it was you, I had her permission to do as I liked. She just wanted me to keep being honest with her and to know that this wasn’t an ‘either/or’ type of deal but a ‘both’. I think she was a little nervous that I’d run off with you.”

“With me?” Adrien snorted. “Clearly she doesn’t know me all that well anymore. No one would run off with me. I’m a natural disaster.”

“Adrien,” Luka scolded lightly.

There was an emotion in Luka’s eyes that turned Adrien’s insides to liquid and made warmth pool in his gut.

“I know you feel like a wreck right now,” Luka sighed, voice low and caressing, “but that is not who you are. That is not what defines you…and if I weren’t with Marinette, I would definitely run off with you.”

“Oh,” Adrien gulped, mind starting to cloud over. Before he could completely lose himself and just start sucking on Luka’s tonsils, Adrien made himself ask, “So, wait. Was I just imagining things earlier, or was Marinette saying she eventually wanted the three of us to date each other?”

Luka chuckled softly, thumb gently starting to rub at the back of Adrien’s hand. “Oh, Marinette definitely wants to add you to our relationship as soon as you two sort things out and are on solid ground again.”

Adrien nodded, struggling to process as the other half of his brain thought about how much he wanted to be kissing Luka. “Like…the occasional threesome…or…?”

Luka shook his head. “No. Polyamory. A relationship as full and equal partners…all three of us…. We want you to be our boyfriend,” he clarified. “And I want to be yours…and Marinette wants to be your girlfriend whenever you’re ready for that. We understand that could be a while.”

“Yeah,” Adrien sighed. “I’m sure we’ll fall right back into place before long, but…it could still be a while before I’m ready for a romantic relationship with her. There are still a lot of issues between us…but what does that mean for you and me?” he wondered, dying to dive right in headfirst, headless of the consequences.

“You and me?” Luka repeated, his thumb on the back of Adrien’s hand stoking the flames inside Adrien with every stroke.

“I want to kiss you,” Adrien blurted out. “And you need to tell me no and stop touching me if that’s against the rules because I’m ready to be your boyfriend right this second.”

Luka’s eyes went wide, pupils dilating at Adrien’s blunt confession. “Just like Marinette and me, you and I have our own separate relationship that has nothing to do with her, and we can do whatever we mutually consent to whenever we want. I’m ready to be your boyfriend whenever you want me, Perfect Fifth. Say the word, and I’m yours.”

“Will you go out with me?” Adrien breathed, voice desperate.

Joy exploded on Luka’s face. “Ye—”

He only got the barest hint of the “s” out before his lips were sealed with Adrien’s in a firm but sweet first kiss.

It started out slow and a little unsure of how to express itself, but the kiss’s intent was clear: love and need. Gradually, Adrien began to explore and experiment. Gentle nibbles at Luka’s lips became clear entreaties for entry.

Luka obliged, meeting Adrien’s tongue with an open-ended invitation.

It was obvious at first that Adrien didn’t really know what he was doing, but he quickly figured things out and soon had Luka melting.

The kiss became passionate, and Luka was more than happy to lie back on the couch and let Adrien climb on top of him.

One hand slipped into Adrien’s hair, found The Spot, and began to rub encouragingly.

Adrien quietly began to purr into the kiss.

Luka had to laugh to himself because he’d thought that Adrien had had him melting before.

The slight rumble in Adrien’s chest and throat made Luka’s body tingle.

Luka’s other hand slowly trailed down Adrien’s back in a long, drawn-out caress ending with Luka cupping Adrien’s butt. He gave an experimental squeeze.

Adrien gasped into Luka’s mouth and pulled back wide-eyed, pushing himself onto his hands to stare down at Luka.

“S-Sorry,” Luka slurred slightly. “I’ve just always wanted to do that, but I won’t do it again if you don’t like it.”

“Do it again,” Adrien demanded, voice wrecked. He wasted no time going back down onto his forearms and reconnecting their lips.

Luka happily obliged.

This kiss ebbed and flowed over the next hour as the boys tested things out and found their rhythm.

At some point, shirts came off and Adrien’s lips wondered south to leave proud purple bruises along Luka’s collarbone.

Luka’s entire body felt like it was burning up with fever, and Adrien’s skin felt every bit as hot. He was just about to pull away and say something when Adrien beat him to it.

“I think I need to slow down a bit,” Adrien gasped.

Luka nodded, and their lips met in a tamer, closed-mouth kiss, gradually winding down.

“Will you stay the night?” Adrien whispered tentatively the next time they separated.

Luka gasped, brain bluescreening.

Adrien pulled back enough to study Luka’s face as Adrien frowned in confusion. Suddenly, it seemed to hit him, and his eyes went wide.

“O-Oh! No. No. That’s not what I—I just meant…I meant to ask if you’d sleep here. Just sleeping. Not…” Adrien gulped. “I don’t think I’m ready to do anything more than what we did just now.” He dropped his gaze. “Even…even some of that was probably a little much, honestly. I’ve never had a real romantic relationship before, and I’m kind of scared of messing this up, so… Plus, I don’t want to rush things. I want…to savor this.”

He looked back up to find Luka smiling at him in adoration.

Luka reached out and stroked Adrien’s face, nodding. “I hear you. I want to enjoy every minute of this too. I’ve been waiting a long, long time for you, so I want to enjoy this and make sure we get it right.”

“Okay,” Adrien agreed with a tentative smile. “Okay…so…will you stay for snuggling tonight and making breakfast together tomorrow morning?”

“I’d love to,” Luka chuckled, threading his fingers through Adrien’s.

Adrien bit his lip. “And…maybe not tomorrow, but sometime…you know Mozart’s Piano Concerto Number Twenty-Five in C Major, Kershel Number Five Hundred and Three?”

“Yes,” Luka purred, “and it is so attractive when you whip out Kershel numbers like that.”

Adrien burst out laughing and tipped over, slumping into Luka. “G-Good to know.”

“What about it?” Luka prompted once Adrien had righted himself.

Adrien chewed on his lip, nervous about asking. “Have you ever played it before?”

Luka shook his head. “I’ve just heard a couple different versions.”

“Well…would you want to write a cadenza together?” Adrien asked tentatively.

Luka’s eyebrows raised slightly in surprise at the request. “Sure. We could take a stab at it. It’ll either be a ton of fun and super romantic or we’ll want to kill one another by the end, so why not?”

Adrien descended into a giggle fit again.

“May I ask what made you think of that?” Luka inquired neutrally.

Adrien pursed his lips, looking out at the clouds rolling over the moon. “I was playing it before you got here, and I thought about how I always play other people’s cadenzas because my father would never approve of one I had written myself.”

Luka drew in a slow breath.

Adrien turned back to him with a smile. “But then I thought, ‘Well, he’s not here anymore to approve or disapprove, so…why not’, you know?”

Luka reached out and stroked Adrien’s cheek. “Good for you, Angel. I’m so proud of you for being brave enough to try new things.”

Adrien shrugged, sheepishly averting his eyes. “Not so brave. I’m totally copping out asking for your help because I figure that anything you help write cannot possibly be bad, whereas, if I write it by myself, I’m just going to think it’s garbage, so…”

Luka leaned in, placing a light kiss to Adrien’s forehead. “Very brave,” he assured. “And smart too to identify possible obstacles and make a plan to overcome them. You’re doing really well, Adrien.”

Tentatively, Adrien looked up to meet Luka’s eyes. “Yeah?”

Luka’s expression was one of pure sincerity and pride. “Yeah. Ready for bed, Love?”

Adrien’s breath caught at the new nickname. His heart began to swell with joy. “S-Say that again, please?”

Luka frowned but obeyed. “Ready for bed, Love?”

Adrien threw his arms around Luka as tears began to fall. “S-Sorry,” he sniffled. “I just…I never thought anyone would ever love me. I thought I was going to die alone, surrounded only by people who just tolerated me because we used to be friends. I thought…I thought I was never going to have this, so…the fact that someone does love me is…”

Adrien shook his head, pulling back to look Luka in the eye even as tears continued to fall. “…And the fact that it’s you…that Marinette loves me too…I have been pining after you two for years, so…I’m just so happy. I feel really blessed.”

“Oh, Fifth,” Luka breathed. “Trust me, Marinette and I are ecstatic to finally have you. We’ve had our eye on you too.” He leaned in for a snowflake-light kiss and pulled back with a smile. “Come on. Let’s go snuggle in bed. I’ll give you a head-rub and tell you all the things I love about you. Would you like that?”

Meekly, Adrien nodded, feeling like his heart was going to overflow.

Tuesday night, one week after the piano recital, Marinette was up to her elbows in neon blue tulle when her phone chirped, indicating that she had a new text.

“Tikki, could you check that, please?” she called to her kwami. “I am right in the middle of pinning this, and if I let go, I will never get it exactly how I want it ever again.”

Indulgently, Tikki rose from her perch and flew down to where Marinette had left her phone next to her keyboard. “It says, ‘May I please come over now?’,” Tikki announced.

Marinette frowned, taking the pin out of her mouth to ask, “Who’s it from?”

Tikki shrugged. “Unknown number.”

Just then the phone chirped again, and Tikki’s confused expression smoothed into a pleased one. “It says, ‘Sorry. This is Adrien, by the way. This is my new number’,” she snickered. “Want me to text him back?”

Marinette dropped what she was doing and stumbled across her room to her phone, nearly tripping over three different bolts of fabric as she did so.

Her fingers flew over the keys, quickly typing an affirmative response: “yes!” and “you can come over whenever you want”.

There was a beat and then the sound of someone tapping sheepishly on her skylight.

Marinette scrambled up into her loft, and, sure enough, found her partner standing on her balcony.

He smiled guiltily and waved like the giant dork that he was.

“Chat Noir,” she breathed as she undid the latch for him. “You got here awful fast.”

Chat winced. “So…I didn’t want to arrive unannounced like last time, but I didn’t want to make plans too far in advance in case I chickened out. I mean, I didn’t want to flake on you, but…so I just came over. That way, I could see how I was feeling once I got here and have the chance to either announce my presence or turn around and go home accordingly.”

Marinette nodded, tucking the usual stray bang back behind her ear. “A solid plan. Well, now that you’ve decided to announce your presence, why don’t you come on in?” She stepped back and made her way down the ladder to give him room to enter.

“Thanks.” He dropped down carefully onto her bed railing, mindful of his boots on the bedspread. He then peeked over the side with the idea of picking a place to land, but he found most of the floor littered with designing detritus and fashion debris.

“Geez,” he remarked candidly. “Do I just pick bad times, or does your room always look like Fashion Week blew up in here?”

Marinette snorted in laughter as she began to pick up some of the mess. “I’m afraid this is all on you, Minou. My room is neat enough during the day, but, on evenings I’m not expecting company, I work on mockups.”

Chat chuckled softly, leaping down onto the chaise and landing in a squat. “Duly noted. Sorry. I’ll remember to make an appointment more than five minutes in advance next time.”

“No worries. Come whenever you like…. You’re still coming tomorrow for dinner with my parents?” she verified.

He nodded, assuring, “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Good. They’re really excited to see you,” she informed as she shoved an armload of fabrics into the tiny closet on the wall by her vanity.

“I’m excited to see them too,” Chat admitted, watching her work. “Hey, do you need a hand?”

“Oh, no.” She waved him off, scooping up piles of lace trimmings she’d been using along the necklines and sleeves on the period gowns she’d been working on earlier in the evening before turning her attention to her Odile dress. “I know it looks a mess in here, but I have a system. Don’t worry. I’ve got it.”

“If you’re sure,” he replied doubtfully.

“Positive,” she insisted, stuffing the last of the floor mess into the closet that must have been deeper than Chat had originally suspected. She turned around to grin at him. “So, what brings you here tonight? Just dropping by, or did you have something specific in mind? I’m not busy, so if you want to play video games or watch a movie or whatever, I’m free as long as you want to stay.”

Chat pursed his lips, transitioning so that he was sitting on the chaise instead of crouching on top of it. “Nothing specific really. Just…I mean…kind of getting up the courage to see you and, you know…make this normal again?”

Marinette nodded slowly in understanding. “Well, I’m glad you came. Let me run down and get some snacks. I know it’s summer, but I’ll make some hot chocolate too. It’s been a while since you’ve had my hot chocolate. Would you like that?”

He nodded eagerly. “Thanks, Princess.”

“Any time,” she assured with a bright smile, her own excitement at just having him there obvious. “I’ll be just a few minutes. Feel free to make yourself at home. Go ahead and detransform if you want.” She noticed the way he tensed at the suggestion and quickly backpedaled. “But you don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s up to you.”

Chat’s shoulders scrunched up to his ears as he curled in on himself in shame. “Sorry. I know it’s silly, but I just feel…safer in the suit around you. I know it’s stupid because it’s not like I need to physically protect myself from anything, but…” His gaze dropped to the floorboards as his cat ears drooped. “I’m sorry. I know I’m ridiculous.”

Marinette slowly made her way over to him, gently taking his face in her hands and tilting it up. “Chaton? It’s okay. Whatever you need to do is fine. I know I hurt you really bad, and I realize that it’s going to take a lot of time and hard work for you to be able to trust me again. It’s okay. I get it, and I’m committed to putting in the work, so please don’t feel ridiculous. I love you, and I want you to feel comfortable and safe.”

Chat’s eyes went wide as her words sank in, and his heart swelled with appreciation and affection for her.

He leaned in, brushing his lips to hers in the lightest of kisses, and then pulled back before it could become anything more.

“I love you too,” he whispered. “Thanks for understanding, My Lady.”

Her face exploded in a scarlet blush, and she couldn’t contain the grin of delight that spread across her lips. “Sure. I mean, yeah. Of course,” she giggled, feeling giddy and lightheaded. “Anything for you.”

“Anything?” Chat Noir snickered, giving her one of his signature eyebrow waggles. “You sure have changed your tune over the years, Buginette.”

Coming back to herself, Marinette gave a light snort and whapped him on the arm. “Oh, you.” She clicked her tongue. “Make yourself at home. I’m going to get snacks.”

“Thank you, Marinette,” he replied with sincerity, voice soft and affectionate.

She returned about ten minutes later with the promised hot chocolate and leftover pastries.

“Let me get that for you,” he offered perfunctorily, not waiting for her to give an answer before he took the tray.

“Why? Afraid I’ll go full klutz and drop everything?” she snickered.

“No. Just being a gentleman,” Chat assured.

“You don’t want me to spill your hot chocolate,” she accused knowingly.

His tail gave a flick. “Can you blame me? I love this stuff, and I haven’t had any in over a year. Have mercy, Princess.”

“All right, all right,” she relented, going to the desk area ahead of him to clear a spot. “Set it here.”

She next turned her attention to unearthing her spare desk chair from the pile of supplies she’d heaped on top of it. “Take a seat and help yourself.” She motioned to the chair in front of her computer.

He settled in and carefully lifted one of the hot chocolate mugs to his lips, gingerly sipping at the still steaming liquid. He winced and set it back down, opting instead to start on the pastry selection. He went right for the pain au chocolat.

“What’s the matter? Do you have a cat’s tongue?” Marinette snickered, picking up the other mug and beginning to drink with no discernable reaction to the heat of the beverage.

“That’s funny,” Chat granted sullenly. “I don’t know whether to pout because you’re drinking hot chocolate and I’m not or confess my undying love for you because you made a cat pun. It’s a really close call.”

Marinette shrugged. “I don’t see why they have to be mutually exclusive.”

“My Lady is so smart.” Chat rolled his eyes, eagerly biting into his pastry.

“I was born this way.” Marinette leaned forward, scoping out the pastries before deciding on a chouquette. “So, what would you like to do this evening? I’m up for pretty much whatever so long as we’re not too loud. My parents will be heading to be soon to get up for the bakery.”

Chat bit his lip. “Actually…do you think we could study Business again? I’ve been going over the notes I took last time I was here, and they’ve really helped, but there are still some things I’m not quite grasping, and with the exam coming up in less than a week…” His shoulders rose up to his ears. “I just don’t want to disappoint my father. I’ve accepted the fact that I’m never going to be able to run the company like he did, but I still want to have a good working knowledge of the field so that I can understand what my advisors are telling me and make informed decisions. Sorry. I’m sure that’s exactly how you wanted to spend your evening,” he laughed sarcastically.

“Hey,” Marinette called softly, reaching out to rest her hand on his arm. “I’m more than happy to study with you. Anytime. Honestly, Minou, I’m just happy to have you here. I don’t care what we do.”

“Yeah?” He looked up through his eyelashes tentatively at her.

“Yeah,” she assured.

She held his gaze for a beat before pulling back, scooting in her desk chair over to where her notebook and text were stored.

“Let’s do this thing!” she cheered, moving her keyboard and mouse out of the way so that she could set the text down on the desk in front of him. She opened it with a flourish.

The whole display put a smile on Chat’s face.

They studied for about an hour before taking a break so that Marinette could refill their hot chocolates.

When she came back upstairs, she was surprised to find Adrien Agreste sitting in her desk chair, playing with her black cat plushie.

She stopped halfway through the trapdoor to stare at him.

Even since she’d seen him two days before on Sunday, he looked better, healthier, more rested. He was still pale and thin, but his eyes were starting to shine again.

He noticed her presence with a startled jolt. “O-Oh.” He quickly put the stuffed animal back where he had found it and turned towards her, smiling innocently. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she chuckled, bringing over the fresh mugs of hot chocolate and settling back into her seat.

She decided not to comment on the fact that he’d detransformed so as not to make him self-conscious, but she was secretly pleased at this small show of trust in her. She was overjoyed that he was starting to let his walls down again.

“Okay. What do we want to go over next?” she quickly got them back on task.

Adrien bit his lip. “Actually…”

She smiled patiently.

“I did have a sort of reason for coming tonight,” he admitted. “Or, at least, something I wanted to accomplish with this visit, so…”

She nodded for him to go on, showing that she was with him.

He gulped and pulled a keyring with two keys out of his pocket. “June sixth.”

Her eyes widened.

“I kind of missed it because I was working on getting up the courage to do the piano recital and still kind of thinking that you blamed me for my father’s death, so…but…” He held out the keyring. “Happy Belated Birthday, Marinette.”

“Oh, Adrien,” she breathed, taking the keys from him and admiring the braided chord keychain accented with different colored beads reminiscent of the lucky charms they had given one another six years before.

She looked up at him with a teary smile. “Thank you so much, Adrien. I love it.”

Adrien chuckled softly, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Marinette, you don’t even know what the keys go to yet.”

She shook her head, insisting, “But I already love it. Did you make the keychain yourself?”

He nodded sheepishly. “Can you tell? Sorry. I’m not really good at crafts, but—”

“—Shut up. I love it,” she repeated, rolling her eyes. “I can just imagine you trying your hardest to do a good job, and I appreciate that effort that you put in. And it actually turned out really well, so don’t belittle your handiwork.”

Adrien sighed, giving up the fight. “If you say so, Princess.”

“I do,” she giggled. “Now tell me what the keys go to.”

He pointed to the smaller, gold key. “This one goes to a storage container full of my father’s designing supplies. His personal stash that he had at the house to use for the prototypes,” he explained.

She stared at him wordlessly with her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide.

“I don’t know if you’d even want any of his stuff,” Adrien quickly added. “I’m sure it must have been disenchanting to learn that your fashion idol was also a domestic terrorist, and I’m sure that must sour things, but…if you don’t want to actually use any of his things personally, you could always sell it all and use the money to buy your own supplies. You can do whatever you want with the contents of the storage container. I won’t be offended,” he assured.

“I just…” He dropped his eyes to her hands, still holding the keychain. “I can’t bring myself to go through the things in storage, so it’s just sitting there. Besides, I have no use for any of it anyway. What would I do with bolts of fabric and fancy machines and lace scraps and buttons and beads? I figured…if you didn’t want to use it yourself, you could at least benefit financially.”

He peeked up just in time to see her beginning to throw her arms around him.

“Thank you,” she whispered into his shoulder, not minding the odd angle one bit. “I will definitely go through it and see what I can use versus what can be sold. I really appreciate you being so thoughtful and generous.”

Relaxing in her awkward hold, he tipped his head to nuzzle her hair and brought a hand up to rest on her arm.

“I’m glad you like it. I was debating whether it was a really good idea or a really bad idea to give that to you,” he chuckled sheepishly.

“Good idea,” she confirmed, giving him a squeeze before pulling back. “Where exactly is this storage unit?”

Adrien winced. “Luka will have to take you. I can’t go there.”

Marinette nodded readily. “Of course. No big deal. Don’t worry about it.” She chewed at the inside of her cheek as she looked down at her present, studying the longer, silver key. “So…what does the other key go to?”

“That’s a gift for later,” he explained with a tentative smile. “It’s the key to my apartment.”

Her eyes widened again in surprise.

“Luka, Nino, and Chloé all have copies…the people I trust implicitly,” he clarified. “I know you and I have a lot of work to do before we get back to that level of trust, but…I’m giving you the key now as an act of hope and good faith. I know it’s only a matter of time before things click back into place between us.”

Marinette put a hand over her mouth as her emotions overwhelmed her and tears began to trickle down her face. “Adrien, you have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you.”

His smile gained strength, stretching into a full out grin. “I might have some idea.”

She laughed happily, pressing the key to her chest as she beamed at him. “…I wish I could kiss you,” she breathed.

Adrien froze, biting his lip as he considered. “Maybe…just a little kiss. A small, close-mouthed one. I don’t want to rush things.”

Marinette nodded eagerly but didn’t move, letting him set the perimeters.

He leaned in slowly and tenderly brushed his lips against hers.

She kissed back with only a slight pressure, savoring it for what it was and not pressing her luck.

There would be other opportunities to kiss Adrien Agreste. She could feel it. They had time. He was worth being patient for.

They pulled back, all smiles, and he reached out to gingerly wipe the tears from her cheeks with his thumb.

“Happy Birthday, Marinette,” he whispered. “Sorry I missed it.”

She shook her head. “You’ll be there for the one next year.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “And each and every one after.”

She placed her hand over his, giving it an affectionate squeeze.

They held the moment for a beat, and then Adrien grinned puckishly. “So…wanna kick my butt at Mecha Strike? I’m super rusty since I’ve spent the past year having to go easy on Luka. He plays to humor me, but he really sucks.”

“Tell me about it!” Marinette snorted in laughter. “But, yes, I am always happy to kick your butt at video games, Chaton.”

Chapter Text

“Come on,” Luka snickered as he guided Marinette (who still had her tongue halfway down Adrien’s throat) toward the door at the far end of the great-room, past Adrien’s couch. “The bedroom’s this way.”

Somehow, Luka managed to get the jumble of limbs that was Adrien and Marinette through the door without anyone knocking anything over or bumping an appendage on something.

As soon as the bedroom door was closed, Marinette pulled back with a heady smile.

Adrien, eyes still half-lidded, chased after her with a whimper of protest.

Marinette responded by pulling off Adrien’s shirt.

Adrien took a startled step back into Luka. He looked up uncertainly. “I thought…we were going to take it slow? I mean…since we just decided that we were all dating fifteen minutes ago and I’m—” His voice caught, and he looked down at his feet. “…damaged.”

Luka wrapped his arms around Adrien from behind and gently swayed them both from side to side. “You’re just a little emotionally banged up, not ‘damaged’, P5…. And we are going slow. Isn’t that right, Chanson?”

Luka shot Marinette a meaningful look that Adrien didn’t catch.

She put her hands up in mock surrender. “Right. It’s not like I was going to take my clothes off or your clothes off…just Adrien’s shirt. You know. So it’s easier to give him a backrub.”

“Right,” Luka snorted, knowing his girlfriend better.

“Okay,” Adrien sighed in relief, body relaxing slightly. “Okay. That’s okay, then. I just…am kind of worried I’m going to freak out or cry or something, and then you guys are going to change your minds, and I’m going to be alone forever, so…” Adrien gulped. “I’m just a little scared I’m going to feel overwhelmed.”

Luka tightened his hold on Adrien, dropping his head to give Adrien’s cheek a kiss and a nuzzle. “Shh. It’s okay, Angel. You know you’re safe with me, don’t you?”

Adrien nodded. “Yeah. Before, but…this is all really, extremely new, and new is kind of terrifying nowadays. New isn’t fun anymore.”

Marinette hesitantly stepped in. She wasn’t always sure how to approach Adrien only one month after their reunion, so she often found herself taking cues from Luka who was more familiar with post-apocalyptic-Adrien.

Marinette cupped Adrien’s cheek in her hand and ran her thumb over his cheekbone. “It’s okay to be scared, but know that Luka and I care about you so much, Adrien. We’d never let anything bad happen to you. We’d never hurt you.”

“Mm,” Adrien whimpered weakly in agreement.

“I’m sorry,” Marinette sighed. “I jumped the gun. Let’s…take it slow. Just snuggling and a little bit of making out. We go at your pace. Okay, Minou?”

Adrien’s face lit up at the nickname. He nodded, looking a little less spooked, a little less stressed.

“How about we start with cuddling on top of the covers?” Luka suggested. “I think someone deserves head pats and a backrub.”

A thrill of anticipation shot down Adrien’s spine.

He could feel his cheeks reddening as he looked back and forth between Luka and Marinette. “That…sounds really nice. But only if you guys don’t mind,” he hurriedly added, eyes flicking back to the floor. “Sorry. I don’t mean to make this all about me. I just—”

Marinette leaned in, placing her mouth over Adrien’s in a closed-lipped kiss.

She pulled back and looked him straight in the eye. “We want this to be all about you.”

“Oh,” Adrien breathed, astounded and wondering for the millionth time how he’d gotten so lucky that such a loving, selfless, generous couple like Luka and Marinette wanted to include him of all people in their relationship.

“Okay,” Adrien consented in a small voice that reflected how humble he was feeling.

Luka tugged them all gently over to the bed.

Adrien ended up half sprawled on top of Luka, using Luka’s stomach as a pillow while Luka’s hands worked their magic on Adrien’s head, fingers weaving through Adrien’s hair, finding all the spots that made Adrien go boneless.

Marinette was curled up on Adrien’s other side, her front pressed flush to him as her fingers located all the tense muscles in his back and coaxed them into releasing their grip on the stress they’d been stockpiling.

Adrien purred in bliss, his whole body vibrating as their hands turned him into a happy pile of mush.

Luka touched The Spot behind Adrien’s ear, and Adrien’s breath hitched.

He felt a familiar tension coiling in his gut, cutting through the haze of euphoria and setting off alarm bells. With Marinette’s fingers working miracles on the muscles of his back, Adrien sensed he wouldn’t be able to stand Luka touching The Spot for even half as long as normal.

Adrien had to cut things off now…but he didn’t want to.

“Guys…” Adrien moaned, voice sounding like they’d already ravaged him. “S-Sto—ah!”

His body gave an involuntary jerk as Marinette’s lips on his neck sent an electrifying jolt through his system. Unfortunately, this pressed the rapidly worsening situation up against Luka’s leg.

Adrien hissed and then gasped. “Stop. I’m gonna…”

He bit his lip, scrunching his eyes closed and trying to get ahold of his body.

Luka and Marinette’s hands went motionless, and then Luka was cupping Adrien’s face. “Shhh. It’s okay. If you say stop, we stop, but…we don’t have to stop.”

Adrien opened his eyes to stare up into Luka’s in surprise.

“Really,” Luka answered the unasked question. “Not a big deal. Clothes stay on. No expectations of anything more happening tonight. Just…either way. Whatever you want.”

Adrien’s teeth sank further into his lip. What he wanted was for Marinette and Luka to marry him and move into his apartment and cook meals with him and watch movies and snuggle and make love and have children and grow old together with him and…but that seemed like a lot of strings to attach to this one moment when the three of them had only decided in the last hour that they wanted to officially be in a relationship.

“We love you, Adrien,” Marinette whispered against the back of his neck, pressing her lips gently to his skin.

“We love you,” Luka confirmed, leaning in to place a reverent peck to Adrien’s lips.

Adrien’s eyes started to tear up.

This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t actually be happening.

He wanted it too badly for it to be attainable.

“Even if you cry afterwards, we’re still going to love you,” Luka assured. “I’ve seen you ugly cry before, and I’m still here, aren’t I?”

Adrien’s throat and sinuses started to burn. “Yeah, but she hasn’t.”

Marinette snuggled in closer, giving Adrien a squeeze from behind. “You’ve sacrificed yourself for me how many times, Chaton? You’ve proven your strength and your bravery and your valor dozens of times over. Nothing you do is ever going to make me love you less, Adrien.”

Adrien could feel himself cracking on the inside.

This couldn’t actually be reality.

She pressed another kiss to the junction of his neck and shoulder. “Do you want us to stop?”

“No,” Adrien answered, voice steady and sure. “Don’t stop, please.”

Luka exhaled audibly. “Okay. All right.”

“We’ve got you,” Marinette promised, mouth starting to mark Adrien’s neck as her hands resumed work on the knots in his shoulder blades.

Luka’s fingers started twisting their way through Adrien’s hair once more, massaging his scalp, as Luka deposited butterfly kisses on Adrien’s eyebrows and cheeks and chin and eyelids and nose.

The hot pressure in Adrien’s gut was back in an instant in full force, and he didn’t try to fight it this time. He gasped and moaned and threw his head back and sighed and panted, letting himself just be present in the moment without any kind of mental commentary as Marinette and Luka’s hands set his body on fire.

And then, in a flash of searing, blinding pleasure, the tension was gone, and Adrien slumped against Luka, breathing hard but perfectly content. His body felt heavy, but Adrien was surprised to find that that was perfectly fine because Adrien never wanted to move again. He wanted to stay in bed with Marinette and Luka for the rest of his life. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been that blissfully happy…if he’d ever been that happy.

Luka and Marinette’s pace slowed into gentle, careful, loving caresses as they waited for Adrien to come back down to Earth.

Adrien’s eyes eventually slid open and met Luka’s.

“Hey,” Luka whispered, pressing a kiss to the bridge of Adrien’s nose between his eyebrows.

Marinette added a peck to Adrien’s jaw. “Doing okay?”

Adrien opened his mouth to respond, but a choked sob came out instead.

They rolled him over and carefully propped him up, each taking a side as they wrapped their arms around him and made comforting shushing noises.

“S-Sorry,” Adrien gasped as soon as he found the breath to. “Sorry. It’s…Before, I never thought that I’d have even a taste of this, and, now, I’m terrified of screwing it up and losing you. Sorry. I’m really emotional right now.”

“I think you underestimate how much we want you,” Marinette chuckled sensuously. “How long and how much we’ve wanted you.”

Adrien felt like he was on a leash that had suddenly gone taut, yanking him backwards. “W-What?”

“You’ve been on our wish list for years,” Luka explained into Adrien’s hair. “And neither of us ever thought we’d have you…but…low and behold who we’ve managed to lure into bed with us.”

“And we’re pretty terrified of losing you too,” Marinette added with a squeeze. “You’re not the only one feeling apprehensive.”

“The only thing we’re absolutely positive about is that we want you in our lives,” Luka confessed. “No matter what.”

“No matter what,” Marinette echoed.

Adrien chuckled nervously. “It sounds like you’re both on the same page.”

“We’ve talked about this,” Luka informed. “…at length over the past few years.”

“Oh,” Adrien responded eloquently. “Well…it actually sounds like we’re all on the same page…. We all want each other, and we’re afraid of wrecking it.”

“Yep,” Marinette sighed.

“Cool,” Adrien snickered. “It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one emotionally invested in this.”

“Far from it,” Luka snorted.

There was a beat of silence where they all absorbed this revelation, and then Marinette cut in: “Anyone want to make out now?”

“Yes,” the boys answered as one and then chuckled sheepishly.

Luka pulled Adrien back so that they were flush against one another with Adrien facing Marinette.

Marinette eagerly slipped into Adrien’s arms, quickly fitting herself to the contours of his body so that the three of them were like one interlocking puzzle.

Marinette’s lips found Adrien’s while Luka busied himself with decorating Adrien’s neck and shoulders with a series of love-bites resembling music notes.

They switched after ten or so minutes so that Luka’s lips were on Adrien’s while Marinette added little hearts and curlicues to Adrien’s skin.

The make-out session soon turned languid as the participants tired, and they ended up in a knot of limbs, warm and happy.

“I want cookies,” Marinette announced.

“Is that a euphemism?” Luka snickered.

Marinette reached around Adrien to pinch her boyfriend on the nose. “No. I literally want cookies, you goof. I’m making some,” she announced, extracting herself from the puppy pile.

“May I have some, or are they just for you?” Adrien wondered.

Marinette pretended to think about it for a moment before grinning back at him. “I’ll share. Why don’t you go get cleaned up and then meet us out in the kitchen? I’ll make cookies and hot chocolate, and then we can snuggle on the couch and watch…I don’t know…Ouran High School Host Club or something?”

Adrien turned to Luka and smiled dreamily. “I love her.”

“I know, right?” Luka chuckled. “I’m willing to share if you are.”

Adrien grinned evilly. “Marinette or the cookies? Marinette, I’ll share, but she only agreed to share the cookies with me. If she gives me a cut of her cookies and then I have to subdivide with you, I’m not sure that’s something I can agree to. Marinette, I’ll definitely share, but Marinette’s cookies…”

Luka rolled his eyes, leaning in to give Adrien a sloppy kiss.

Marinette sighed and shook her head, muttering as she turned and walked away, “I’m in love with idiots.”

Luka broke the kiss to call back, “We feel the same about you!”

“By which he means we love you!” Adrien cackled, tipping over into Luka, knocking them both down.

The

       End