Work Text:
It happened on a Tuesday morning that a clear glass bottle with a cork stopper was discovered on the coffee table under the covered area of the Liberty’s deck.
A little tag around the bottle’s neck read, “For the Fairest” in a curling, looping script.
Juleka snorted. “Because that never started any fights.”
She showed the bottle to Rose. “It looks like you’ve got a secret admirer.”
Rose rolled her eyes and pushed the bottle back at her girlfriend. “Juju, don’t be silly. It’s obviously for you.”
“Well, it’s definitely not for me,” Anarka snorted in amusement. “Any man interested would know to cut the coy crap and just ask me out for a drink.”
Luka quirked an eyebrow, wondering what he had walked in on. “What are we talking about?”
Juleka held up the bottle. “I found this on the table in the upstairs living room. There’s a note attached that says it’s ‘For the Fairest’.”
Luka choked on a laugh. “Because it’s not like that phrase ever started, say, the Trojan War or anything.”
“That’s what I said,” Juleka snickered.
“I’m trying to convince Juju that I’m Athena, the Capitaine is Hera, and Juju is Aphrodite, so the bottle is for her,” Rose explained.
“What does the message on the inside of the bottle say?” Luka inquired as he made his way to the fridge to get out some yogurt.
Rose looked to Juleka.
Juleka shrugged. “Hadn’t gotten that far.”
“That’s where I would have started,” Luka chuckled.
Juleka removed the stopper and fished out the folded note. “‘I love your smile. It’s so serene and encouraging that it calms my fears and doubts. It’s so kind and forgiving that it makes me feel like it’s okay not to be perfect. You’ve seen me during some low points, and you still seem to like me anyway. Thank you for smiling at me.’”
The room was silent for a moment, surprised by the contents.
Juleka refolded the note and slipped it back into the bottle.
“Well,” Anarka remarked, a bit at a loss for words. “That was…”
“Romantic!” Rose sighed, clasping her hands and beginning to bounce.
“Personal,” Luka corrected, voice a bit on edge from guilt. “We shouldn’t have read that out loud. Whoever it is, this person is showing vulnerability, most likely only meaning their notes to be read by one person. They obviously suffer from insecurity, and they’d probably be mortified if they knew we’d all read what they wrote.”
“But how were we supposed to know who the message was for?” Rose whined. “I thought it was for Juleka from the label.”
Juleka shook her head. “There’s no way someone would write those kinds of things about my smile, Honey. The note’s obviously for you.”
Rose frowned. “But…that doesn’t really sound like me.”
“Trust me,” Juleka scoffed. “I would know. It sounds like you.”
“Where was the bottle found?” Luka inquired, interest piqued and curious to get to the bottom of this.
After breakfast, Juleka showed her brother where exactly she’d discovered the bottle: on top of Luka’s Russian language version of Dostoyevsky’s The Idiot.
Luka frowned. “I thought that maybe there’d be a clue, but…”
The girls shrugged in tandem.
“Let’s…take out the note and leave a reply,” Luka suggested. “Just a ‘thank you’ or something. See what happens.”
The thank you note disappeared, and Wednesday morning found a new message in the bottle.
“I don’t see why we can’t just read it aloud,” Juleka grumbled. “Rose is going to show it to me later, so the only one missing out is you.”
Luka pursed his lips. “No. It’s wrong for us to invade the author’s privacy like that.”
Juleka shrugged.
Rose frowned, staring at the words on the little slip of paper. “I don’t know, guys. I don’t think they’re talking to me.” She held out the scrap to Juleka.
Juleka frowned at it, mouthing the words as she silently read. “Well,” she declared when she was done, “I don’t have blue eyes, so…maybe it’s for Maman? What do you think, Luc?” She held out the note, shoving it into his face.
With a disapproving look that clearly said, “I don’t like this”, Luka took the little rectangle and read, “‘I love your eyes. They’re so clear and blue that it’s almost like I could fall into them. You’re sort of soft-spoken. You conserve your words, letting others speak and share their ideas. Your eyes speak volumes, though, volumes of poetry. I love watching you when we’re in a group. You don’t say much out loud, but your eyes dance with emotion. Thank you for always looking at me with fondness and understanding.’”
“See?” Rose remarked. “I don’t think that’s about me.”
On Thursday, all four Couffaines gathered in the upstairs living room to analyze the contents of the latest epistle.
“‘You’re such a talented musician’,” Anarka read.
“Well, that could be any of us,” Rose surmised. “I mean…I’m not the greatest musician, but I do sing and play some percussion.”
“‘I love your music. It’s so heartfelt and inspired and free’,” Anarka continued. “‘I wish I could make music as freely as you do. You make me feel like I could. When we play together…’” She trailed off, frowning, and then looked up at her children. “Juleka and Rose, you don’t play with anyone other than Kitty Section, right?”
The girls nodded.
“And Ivan is still dating Mylène, right? And he knows you two are together?” she clarified.
“Yep,” Juleka confirmed, side-eying her brother. “Luka plays with other groups, though.”
Luka gulped. “…What does the rest of the note say?”
“‘When we play together,’” Anarka resumed, “‘I’m able to lose myself in the music. I forget about my problems at home. It’s okay if I fumble a note or make a mistake. You smile and encourage me. You let me know that it’s okay, it’s not the end of the world, I’m not deficient just because I messed up. You put things into perspective for me and always make me feel like I’m good enough the way I am. So often I have to hide who I am, but you hear the song in my heart, and you seem to like it anyway, even when the notes clash and the dissonances don’t resolve. Thank you for helping me to love music again.’”
Anarka folded up the note and put it back into the jar, setting it down on the table without a word.
Silently, Rose pushed the jar toward Luka.
Juleka clapped her brother on the shoulder. “For the Fairest.”
Luka read and reread the notes, trying to guess at the identity of his secret admirer. There was one name that kept coming to mind, but Luka didn’t want to get his hopes up.
In all actuality, what were the odds that Adrien Agreste had developed a crush on Luka of all people? That was just…ridiculous. Impossible.
…And yet…who else could it be?
Particularly the third note. Who else was there whom Luka played with with whom he had that kind of intimacy? Ivan and Luka were close, but Ivan was definitely straight and all about Mylène. The other people Luka played in bands with…he was friends with most of them, but they didn’t have a lot of deep conversations or solo jam sessions.
Adrien was the only one with whom Luka regularly played one-on-one. Adrien was the only bandmate with whom Luka had that kind of connection.
Maybe Luka was only kidding himself, but…it had to be Adrien…right?
Thursday night, Luka did a stakeout, holing himself up in the bridge of the Liberty, keeping a lookout for his secret admirer coming to deliver the next day’s note.
Part of him felt silly. What assurance did he have that there would even be another note? Maybe the three he’d already received were it.
Just after one in the morning, when Luka was getting ready to despair and call it a night, a black-clad figure dropped out of the sky, down onto the walkway along the Seine, and hopped onto the deck of the Liberty.
Luka’s jaw fell to the floorboards as he recognized Chat Noir.
Maybe it was a fluke. Maybe Chat had touched down on the Couffaines’ ship purely by coincidence.
No. Chat Noir made his way into the covered area and headed straight for the coffee table where the bottle rested on top of Luka’s Dostoyevsky novel. He took out Luka’s thank you note and replaced it with a new message for Luka.
He unfolded Luka’s response and gave a hushed trill of victory. His tail flicked, and he pressed the note to his heart, giving a little spin in his joy.
It was adorable…and surreal, really, that a quick “thank you” scrawled on a scrap of paper could actually make anyone that happy. And yet, it did.
That little gesture of appreciation obviously made Chat Noir very, very happy.
As the superhero bounded off into the night, a thought struck Luka. He had been so caught up in discovering his admirer’s identity that he hadn’t stopped to think.
Chat Noir and Luka made music together. Luka knew Chat Noir as a civilian. Chat Noir had to be Adrien.
He sat there in the bridge of the ship, contemplating this for a while.
He’d suspected before, but…this was proof, wasn’t it?
Friday night, Luka lay in wait, camped out on the bridge again. When he saw Chat Noir land, he snuck down to the main deck, tiptoeing into the upstairs living room from around back.
He found Chat Noir frowning at the spot on the coffee table where the bottle should have been.
“Adrien,” Luka called quietly.
Chat Noir looked up, still frowning in confusion. “Yes?”
Too late he realized his error.
His eyes went wide in horror, and he began to wave his hands wildly. “I didn’t—! I mean, I’m not—!”
“Shhh,” Luka whispered, putting his hands up placatingly at chest level as he slowly approached. “Adrien, it’s okay.”
“I’m not Adrien,” Chat Noir insisted.
Luka gave him a pitying smile, and Chat’s ears and tail drooped.
“I’m not,” Chat pouted.
Luka reached out and ruffled his hair, careful of the cat ears. “I’m sorry. Of course you’re not.”
“…Ladybug is going to kill me,” Chat groaned in misery, his whole face going red.
“She won’t kill you,” Luka assured, giving Chat a comforting pat on the shoulder. “She would never find anyone good enough to replace you. She doesn’t even have to know about this.”
Chat pursed his lips.
“I mean, I’m not planning on telling her,” Luka reasoned. “So, unless you tell her…”
“…You raise a valid point,” Chat reluctantly agreed.
“And I’m not telling anyone else either,” Luka promised. “I would never endanger you like that.”
Chat Noir rubbed at the back of his neck, chewing nervously on the inside of his cheek. “I’m honestly more concerned about your knowing my identity putting you in danger.”
Luka shook his head. “Don’t. It’ll be fine. I rarely get caught up in akuma fights.”
“Once is enough to do it,” Chat argued ruefully.
Luka shrugged. “I’ll be careful.”
“Sometimes careful isn’t enough,” Chat sighed, raking a hand through his hair in frustration. “Luka—”
“—Adrien,” Luka interrupted, placing a finger to Chat’s lips.
Chat went cross-eyed trying to look.
“I have a present for you,” Luka informed in an attempt to distract Chat. He pulled out the glass bottle and held it out for Chat to take. “I believe that this rightfully belongs to you.”
Chat blinked, obediently accepting the bottle. “But…I left this for you?”
Luka smirked. “But the label says, ‘For the Fairest’. By my count, that’s you. If you’ve got a note you want to drop off with me, I’ll gladly take it, but that bottle and the message inside are for you.”
Still nonplussed, Chat fished that day’s note out of his zipper pocket and handed it over.
“Thank you.” Luka grinned. “I’ve really appreciated these, you know. No one…no one’s ever said such nice things about me before.”
Chat blinked, and then his eyes widened in disbelief. “Really? But…you’ve had boyfriends and girlfriends before. You’ve dated a lot of people. No one’s told you…?”
Luka shrugged. “I mean, they gave me compliments, but…no one’s ever been as poetic and earnest as you, so…thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Chat replied with a sheepish smile and a cotton candy blush. “I’m glad it wasn’t…like…too much or something.”
“Not at all,” Luka assured. “It was…” romantic, heartfelt, touching, swoon-worthy, perfect “…great.”
“Good,” Chat chuckled, feeling awkward and giddy and excited and terrified. “Good…. Well. I should…I should go.”
Luka nodded. “Yeah…but, hey…listen…” Luka bit his lip. “My note…” He motioned with his chin to the bottle in Chat Noir’s hand. “I’m sorry if I’m off base. I’m sorry if I inferred something you didn’t mean.”
Chat’s eyebrows began their descent into a frown.
“Just…” Luka took a deep breath. “Read what I wrote, and let me know if we’re on the same page, okay? You’re a precious friend to me, Adrien, and, no matter what, I always want us to keep being friends.”
He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to Chat Noir’s forehead before turning and making his escape, calling back over his shoulder, “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Yeah,” Chat mumbled, head spinning. “Later.”
Adrien released his transformation with a sigh and trudged over to collapse face-first onto his bed. “I’m an idiot,” he groaned.
Plagg gave a helpful snort as he made his way to the mini fridge. “What else is new?”
“Ladybug is going to kill me?” Adrien laughed mirthlessly.
Plagg rolled his eyes, sorting through the Gouda and the Brie and the Emmental, trying to decide what sounded good. He was tempted to just eat it all. “It’ll be fine, Kid. Just do what your boyfriend said and don’t tell her.”
Adrien rolled over onto his back, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to his chest as he mumbled bitterly, “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Yet,” Plagg snickered.
“Ever,” Adrien lamented, bringing the pillow up to cover his face. “Plagg, why do I always make a fool out of myself in front of the people I love? I always embarrass myself trying to be all romantic, and no one…no one ever appreciates it.”
Plagg set down the cheese, closed the fridge door, and flew over to Adrien’s side. “Kid, what part of any of what happened tonight made you think Snake Boy didn’t appreciate your love letters? Didn’t he tell you how much they meant to him? What are you getting so worked up about?”
Adrien let the pillow fall away with a sigh. “He said…he always wanted to be friends.”
“So?” Plagg huffed. “You’re the one who’s always on about how precious friendship is to you. Why is being his friend suddenly a bad thing?”
Adrien gazed miserably at his kwami and answered in a small voice, “…Because I’m in love with him, and I don’t think I can take being friend-zoned again. I put my all into being in love, so…I’m just kind of exhausted and ready for someone to put some energy into me for a change.”
“I think you need to read what he wrote you,” Plagg advised, flying to grab the bottle from the end of the bed and bring it to Adrien.
Adrien sat up, staring down at the sheet of notebook paper that had been neatly folded and placed inside.
“Read it,” Plagg urged and then went back to the mini fridge to scope out the cheese situation and give Adrien some privacy.
Adrien took a deep breath and pulled out the stopper.
He eased the note out with two shaking fingers and carefully smoothed it.
“Dear Adrien, I’m sorry”
Adrien gasped, fearing the worst. His heart was beating in his ears, and he felt dizzy, but he forced himself to read on.
“to take the ‘secret’ out of the ‘secret admirer’, but I had to know whom I had to thank for these gorgeous messages that I know I’ll treasure forever.”
With a giddy giggle, Adrien pressed the letter to his chest. “He says he’ll treasure my notes forever, Plagg.”
“I figured he might,” Plagg replied coolly through a mouth of Emmental.
“I saw you put Friday morning’s message into the bottle. I had already guessed that it was probably you—at least, I hoped it was you—so when I saw you, I was a little confused at first, but the pieces quickly slid into place.”
“He’s so smart,” Adrien sighed dreamily.
“Uh-huh,” Plagg added in a monotone, trying to be supportive but, honestly, he had been through so much drama with this kitten over the years, and he was ready for the soap opera to be over. “Get to the part where he confesses his love already.”
“Plagg,” Adrien hissed. “Don’t tease me like that.”
Plagg suppressed another eye roll and munched into a wheel of Edam instead.
“I’m honestly much better with music than I am with words, so I’m not as eloquent as you. Still, I wanted to try to express how I feel about you in writing so that you’d have something concrete to hold onto just like the beautiful notes you’ve given me. I have a feeling that my words won’t be enough, but I want to try. If my message falls flat, come on over, and I’ll play you a selection of the songs I’ve written about you over the years.”
“Plagg, he’s written songs about me!” Adrien gasped.
“Imagine that,” Plagg hummed, trying to sound genuine but failing deplorably. “Go on and read his mushy note already.”
“Adrien, your smile is radiant. Not the one you wear for photoshoots or public appearances. I mean the smile that you don’t have to think about. The one that comes up like a sunrise and warms the space around you. You make the people who come in contact with you’s days a little brighter for having existed. Thank you for bringing warmth and joy everywhere you go.”
Adrien bit his lip. “He must have a selective memory. Some days I’ve been a total mess around him.”
“Apparently, more often than not, you’ve made a positive impression,” Plagg put it in perspective. “What else?”
“Adrien, I admire your resilience. You’ve had it tough, but, somehow, you always manage to look on the bright side of things. You keep fighting even when life doesn’t give you a reason to expect that things will get better. I love your faith in tomorrow. I love your indominable spirit. You inspire me to pull myself together and keep going on the difficult days as well.”
“See?” Plagg chuckled. “He sees you as you are. He realizes that you struggle sometimes…. Hey. Why are you crying?”
Adrien looked up from the letter, holding it away so that he wouldn’t get tears on it. He smiled wretchedly. “I really love him, Plagg…and if he doesn’t feel the same way…I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“He does. I know what I’m talking about. Keep reading, Kid,” Plagg urged tenderly, wishing he could make life easier for his charge.
“You’re one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met,” Adrien continued through a sniffle, “and after learning your secret last night, I’m even more amazed by your bravery, selflessness, and time management skills.”
Adrien let out a snort of laughter. “He has no idea.”
“But even before I knew, I always thought you were brave and selfless and incredibly organized. Everything about you is good, Adrien. You’re kind and thoughtful, sensitive, giving…a talented musician, crazy smart, funny”
“Finally, someone thinks I’m funny,” Adrien chuckled.
“…and one of my favourite people to be around. I’d like to have you around more often. If your notes mean what I think they mean, I’m guessing that you’d like that too. Please consider this an open invitation to sneak out and see me whenever you’d like.”
Adrien gasped at the next line, reading it in a reverent whisper: “I like you, Adrien.”
“Told ya,” Plagg snorted, shaking his head fondly as Adrien burst into tears and covered his mouth with one hand in his shock.
“I really like you, and your messages make me think that you like me too. I’m sorry if you were only writing to me as a friend and I’ve somehow misunderstood. If all you want from me is friendship, that’s fine. Your friendship is precious to me. It’s more than enough. However, if you do have feelings for me and would be interested in exploring the possibility of a romantic relationship, I have been dying to take you on a date for two years now, so just say the word, and I’m all in,” Adrien read with an excited edge to his voice that made it pitch up almost into a shriek of joy.
“Told ya,” Plagg repeated, internally ecstatic that the torture was over for the both of them.
“Devotedly yours, LC,” Adrien sighed, turning to Plagg with a goofy grin. “He likes me, Plagg.”
“Uh-huh. I heard.” The kwami nodded encouragingly. “So? What are you going to do? Write him a reply? Go see him tomorrow with roses? Write him a song?”
“Go see him now,” Adrien laughed as if the answer should have been obvious.
Plagg groaned because he really should have guessed.
There was a knocking at Luka’s porthole at half past two in the morning, dragging Luka out of his fitful slumber.
He blinked, going over to the window to find Chat Noir hanging off the side of the ship, waving sheepishly at him.
Luka yanked open the porthole. “Adrien, what are you doing?”
Chat slipped into the room, smiled, and shrugged. “I’m so sorry. I realize it’s late, but I couldn’t possibly sleep after reading your letter. I had to talk to you.”
Luka’s eyes went wide, and he suddenly found himself less sleepy. “Oh. Yeah. I…I’m sorry. I…Did I ruin our friendship?”
Chat Noir looked abashed. “What? No! No! Not at all, Luka. I—You very accurately interpreted what I meant in my messages. I’m crazy about you!”
Luka laughed in relief, reaching out and pulling Chat into a tight hug. “Thank goodness. I mean, I meant what I said about being okay just being friends because having you in my life is really important, but…”
“Having you return my feelings is definitely preferable,” Chat Noir chuckled, squeezing Luka tighter as he nuzzled Luka’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” Luka sighed.
Chat raised his head, smirking. “So…I hear you’ve written songs about me. I know you said that you were better at music than words, but your words made me cry, they were so sweet and perfect. I’m wondering what your music will do to me.”
Luka blushed, averting his eyes. “I suppose we’ll have to see…but that might have to wait until tomorrow. I’m not sure my family would appreciate my serenading you in the middle of the night.”
Chat nodded his agreement. “I’ll look forward to it, then…but…I guess I should get going,” he added regretfully. “…Do you think…” He gulped, cheeks beginning to colour. “…I could get a goodnight kiss?”
His own cheeks glowing red, Luka stepped in, caressing Chat’s face, running a thumb over the edge of the mask.
Chat’s breath hitched, and his eyes slowly drifted closed.
Luka’s lips met his gently, hesitantly at first, but the kiss quickly caught fire, using all the pent-up feelings the two had been suppressing for one another as fuel.
“I should really go,” Adrien remarked thoughtfully twenty minutes later between languid kisses.
“You should really stay,” Luka hummed, arching up to draw another kiss from Adrien’s lips.
“I’m not transforming a third time tonight,” Plagg grumbled from where he had gotten cozy in Luka’s sock drawer.
A concerned expression wavered across Adrien’s eyebrows.
Luka reached up and smoothed them with his thumb. “Stay. Just snuggling and kissing. I promise.”
Adrien bit his lip. “It’s just…I know you’re…more…experienced than I am, so…”
Luka shook his head. “We don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. Just because I’ve done things with other people, that doesn’t mean I expect anything from you. We’re just starting out. We go at our own pace and only do something once we’re both ready. No pressure, okay?”
Adrien breathed a sigh of relief and sank down into Luka’s arms. “Okay. Good…. Thank you.”
“No thanks needed,” Luka assured, pressing a kiss to Adrien’s forehead and gently stroking his hair. “Do you think you can stay for breakfast tomorrow? Do you think they’ll miss you?”
Adrien shrugged. “No one ever misses me, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”
Luka hummed thoughtfully. “I miss you every second you’re not by my side.”
Adrien broke out in a laugh, snuggling in closer and nuzzling Luka’s collarbone. “Glad to know it’s not just me who gets like that.”
“Not at all,” Luka assured.
Adrien relaxed, letting himself slip off into slumber. “I’m so glad I found you.”
“I’m the lucky one,” Luka insisted, pressing his lips to Adrien’s forehead once more for good measure.
The
End
