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2020-11-05
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2021-11-18
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Maybe You're My Love

,

Summary:

It's time for the Japan Expo. His friends are tagging along. His cosplay is perfect. Today's going to be sugoi! But when Adrien, dressed as Tamaki Suoh, chances upon a certain bug's secret identity, he flexes his flirting muscles in true Tamaki fashion, and it seems she's not prepared. "Adrien, did - did you just call yourself Daddy?" "Now you listen here, Marinette—"

Chapter 1

Notes:

Hello! This is your Captain speaking, along with co-pilot Good Faith. We love to write and we love to write together and we’re absolute geeks, who love Ouran High School Host Club—thus this concoction was born! You don’t have to have seen Ouran to enjoy this, but if you enjoy Sunshine Boy being ridiculous, we think you’ll like him cosplaying as Tamaki Suoh. The chapters will alternate between Marinette's and Adrien's POV, starting with Marinette's, and each one will begin with a gif or image to summarise the chapter. This is a fun side project to our solo stuff and we really hope you all enjoy it. :D

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Marinette scampered down a quiet sidewalk, watching the way sunlight tumbled over timeworn buildings, bathing cobbled streets with its warmth.

It was early.

Too early for a weekend.

Like, just before seven on a Sunday morning.

Alya had roped her into attending some anime convention; though, to be fair, there hadn’t been much roping involved once she’d learnt Adrien was going.

And cosplaying, supposedly.

As some dramatic, princely dude that runs a club to please women.

Nino’s words, not hers.

(She may or may not have been drinking at the time. And she may or may not have sprayed Coke down Nino’s shirt.)

According to him, Adrien had been practicing this character’s mannerisms all weekend.

By God, she had to witness this.

Whatever “this” was.

Marinette stepped beneath a yellow sign, the word “Metropolitain” outlined upon it in dated, dark green font. A set of stairs dove beneath the city, scuffed from years of use, and she tiptoed down them with narrowed eyes.

For once, she was on time.

A miracle, honestly.

And a very suspicious one at that…

Mechanical screeches echoed through the concrete tunnels, trains weaving their way beneath Paris. She’d almost mistaken the sounds for screams.

After all, akumas always always always seemed to thwart her attempts at spending time with Adrien. She was already an expert in the ways of self-sabotage. Did Hawk Moth really need to come at her with his impeccable timing?

Marinette scanned her surroundings, eyes peeled for a fiery redhead, a familiar cap, or a beautiful blond head of hair. No one yet.

Wow. She was almost proud of herself.

Marinette “Punctual” Dupain-Cheng.

That was her name now.

She sauntered toward a nearby bench, slipped into it with an eager smile, and commenced one of her favourite pastimes: people-watching.

A group of teens stood in wait, most clad in costumes she didn’t recognise. One girl, however, had donned a Ladybug suit, her arm entwined with – oh God. Had the girl convinced her boyfriend to dress up as Chat Noir?

The guy sure didn’t look thrilled.

Thank God the real Chat wasn’t here. And that she wasn’t sporting red and black right this second. He’d probably crack some joke about everyone knowing they’re “made fur each other”.

A train soon rumbled out of a nearby tunnel, screeching to a halt at the platform. The teens vanished inside it, along with about a dozen other individuals.

For the next few minutes, she observed the steady stream of people that flowed in and out of the metro. Most were teens or young adults. Some were cosplaying. She spied some supervillains, a few more Ladybugs, two other Chats – the first was very convincing – and a bunch of costumes that were foreign to her.

Marinette was half-way done typing a text to Alya when an aggravated shriek had her looking up from her iPhone.

“Seriously, Dion,” barked a girl in a blue eskimo ensemble, her hands thrashing through the air. “You agreed to be Aang! I made your outfit and everything.”

Dion’s red and gold robe creased as he twisted his arms across his chest. “Well, I don’t ship Kataang,” he growled, the fake scar on his face wrinkling as he spoke. “I did say I prefer Zutara.”

“But you didn’t say you were cosplaying Zuko,” the girl squawked, throwing her nose in the air. “How dare you waste my time and money like this! It took me three weeks to make this costume. Three whole weeks! I painted an arrow on the bald cap and everything . And now you just expect me to carry it around at the convention all day!?”

Marinette winced, wondering who she sympathised with more: the girl for all that time wasted or the guy for being chewed out so publicly. Even from roughly eight metres away, his cheeks were clearly red.

“Ella, calm down—”

“No!” Ella bawled, with a decisive flick of her arm. “I’m sick of wasting my time on you!”

Marinette glimpsed a flutter of purple—and barely registered what that meant.

“From now on, you’re on your own—”

Ella stilled, red sweeping from her temples to her cheeks.

Marinette’s insides churned.

Dion waved a hand across her eyes. “Uhh – Ella?”

“Yes, Hawk Moth.”

Dion stumbled two steps back, a gasp spiraling from his lips, as purple swarmed across Ella’s body. When it dispersed, her eskimo outfit remained, but her skin was pale blue, her brown hair dyed navy, and her eyes colder than ice.

“There is no Ella.” Her lips, as blue as her hair, curled into a sneer. “There is only Water Queen!” With a graceful flick of her hands, water gushed from a leather pouch around her waist. “Let’s see how YOU like it when YOUR time is wasted!” The water swayed with every flourish of her hands, and in one sweeping movement, she encased a wide-eyed Dion in a thick block of ice.

Screams echoed through the tunnels as people darted for the stairwells. 

Bluebell eyes zipped around the platform, honing in on a neon sign above a corridor to her left. She made a mad dash for it, while Water Queen sang out behind her, “Ladybug! Chat Noir! I’m coming for youuu!”

Marinette skidded around the corner, down the corridor, and glimpsed a blond guy in a pale blue get-up leaving the restroom. She struggled to weave around him, her shoulder knocking his. “Sorry,” she squeaked, before slamming through the restroom door.

The pungent scent of urine and budget soap choked her nose. She noted six stalls, all empty, and a row of three urinals on the far wall. A groan tumbled from her lips. “Tikki, please don’t tell me I’ve done it again.”

Tikki zipped out of her pink purse. “Marinette, this isn’t the time to fret over boy’s bathrooms! Paris needs you!”

Marinette nodded, determination filling her face. “You’re right.” She dashed into the closest cubicle. “Tikki, spots on!”

Notes:

I wonder who that mysterious boy in blue was. HMMMM. One of life’s great mysteries. Oh? Did we say this features Ouran High School Host Club things? Well, we decided to throw in some cheeky Avatar too. You’re meowst welcome!

Chapter 2

Notes:

Bonjour, mes amis! This instalment is written from our boy, Tamadrien’s POV. Honestly, this fic is just us geeking out over our favourite fandoms. We hope you enjoy! :D

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Adrien Agreste was on a mission. He’d snuck out the usual way, with a flash of green light through his second-story bedroom window. His catsuit, however, would not take him to his final destination.

No, this time said destination involved friends, a train ride, and another costume entirely.

He was heading to an anime convention. The Japan Expo, in fact. It was the place to be for fans of Japanese culture, from manga to martial arts, anime to video games, all sorts of stuff. And it was only a thirty-minute train ride away!

Last year, he’d snuck out to his first convention—the Paris’ Manga and Sci-Fi Show—dressed up as Mr Banana, courtesy of a sneaky expedition to a costume store. Adrien had worried he’d stand out as an oversized banana with legs, but such concerns had been squashed the moment he’d boarded the metro, just a speck of yellow amid the throngs of other cosplayers. He’d still turned heads, but no one had asked Adrien Agreste for a photo. No, they’d asked Mr Banana, and that anonymity had been incredible.

He’d wandered from stall to stall, purchased a bunch of manga, and met people who not only knew what Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood was, but agreed that it was one of the greatest animes ever.

Today, for the Japan Expo, he’d prepped another costume.

Adrien was cosplaying as Tamaki Suoh from Ouran High School Host Club.

And it was going to be perfect.

Sadly, he hadn’t been able to convince Nino to dress up as Kyoya – in fact, he hadn’t been able to convince Nino to dress up at all – but Nino was bringing Alya, and Alya was bringing Marinette, so the four of them would be a merry party nonetheless.

When Adrien bounded down the Metro Station stairs, his tail swinging with his every stride, it was just before seven on a Sunday morning. That left just enough time to make the magic happen! He snuck down a narrow corridor and into the men’s restroom. The space was grungy and silent, the stalls empty. Ducking into the cleanest cubicle, he dropped his transformation.

The moment Plagg emerged, his nose wrinkled. “Couldn’t you have found an empty cheese shop to do this? It’d smell way better than this dump.”

Adrien snorted with amusement. “Plagg, it’d smell exactly the same. Maybe worse.”

“Your sense of smell offends me deeply,” his kwami muttered with criss-crossed arms.

Rolling his eyes, Adrien strode out of the stall and over to the mirror, dried splatters of water speckling its reflective surface. His ensemble involved a white button-up, a snug, light blue blazer, a pair of well-fitted, charcoal pants, and some polished dress shoes. He adjusted the grey tie, weaved into an effortless Windsor knot that he’d done while half asleep this morning. It still looked good. 

For the finishing touches, the violet contact lenses were already in place—after a lot of practice and a little apprehension—and a vibrant, red rose was tucked away in his blazer pocket. That just left his hair.

Referencing an image on his phone, Adrien used a little tap water to weigh down his locks, and flicked his bangs between his eyes. Honestly, it was like a less gravity-defying rendition of his alter ego's hair.

Plagg chose that moment to pipe up from inside his blazer. “What’s the point of dressing up as a high school student when you already are a high school student?”

“Immersion.” Adrien plucked the rose from his blazer pocket and with a princely bow, he presented it to his reflection. “Though this rose is lovely, it could never compare to thee, M’Ladybug.” He brandished his most dashing smile—and winked for good measure.

Plagg faked a retch.

“Oh hush, you!”

The kwami flashed a sugary smile. “I can’t help it if you’re so lovesick that it makes me sick.”

Adrien rolled his eyes and returned the rose to his blazer pocket, stem first. He strolled towards the restroom exit, trying to embody the princely type in his gait, and Plagg took that as his cue to zip inside the jacket. As the door swung shut behind him, his phone let out a ping. Rummaging through his shoulder bag to find it, a girl barged into him, hurtling past without a second glance in a flash of pink and a squeaky “sorry” that sounded terribly familiar. 

Was that… Marinette? Racing into the men’s restroom?

Huh, she must’ve really needed to go to the toilet.

At least she was here and on time.

Early, in fact.

When Adrien finally found and withdrew his phone, his stomach dropped like lead. An Akuma attack was at the Metro Station. Well, at least he was already here. Hopefully it’d be a quick and easy battle, so his plans with his friends wouldn’t be… derailed.

Adrien turned on his heel, ready to retrace his steps into the restroom to transform—

Wait.

Marinette was in there! 

Adrien spied a vending machine at the other end of the corridor and ducked to hide in its shadow.

It was only because he was watching so closely that he noticed what happened next. An oh-so-familiar face, half-hidden by a dotted red mask, poked out from the men's restroom to scan the corridor.

Adrien's heart thundered in his chest, echoing in his ears.

He blinked.

In a flash of red and black, she hurtled toward the far exit, away from him. Those brilliantly blue eyes seemed to spot something on the platform - was that a water trail? Whatever it was, she followed it out of sight, in the direction of a stairway to the city above.

His mind hurtled back to Kwamibuster. Of the suspicions he’d had. The way they’d been crushed.

But – But he’d just seen Marinette race into the men’s restroom.

The empty men’s restroom.

And just twenty seconds later, Ladybug had darted out from that very same corridor!

Could…

Could Ladybug really be… Marinette?

His racing thoughts muffled Plagg’s muttering. His eyes twinkled like Daddy Suoh’s, his hands cupping his cheeks as a smile spilled across his face. “M—M’Lady?”

Plagg only groaned.

Notes:

We’re so down for Tamadrien in the rest of this fic. Flirty Chat is a favourite of ours and sharing him in future chapters is gonna be so much fun!

Chapter 3

Notes:

We're back with instalment number three! It's got action. It's got puns. And it's got dramatic irony hitting so heavy it's a wonder nobody's been knocked out yet. But YOU LOVE IT! That's why we're all here hehehehe.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Thanks to not only Water Queen, but the water balloon that'd been her Lucky Charm, Marinette was drenched and more in need of a tumble with a dryer than an akuma.

Then, her silly kitty slid onto the scene.

Literally.

Courtesy of a fresh puddle he greeted face first.

Really, that was to be expected against a water-based akuma.

Marinette watched as Chat Noir shook out his hair, his chaotic blond locks twice as wild and fluffier still.

"Aren't cats afraid of water?"

With a spin of his baton, Chat blocked a water whip attack. "A little water never hurt anyone." He flashed a cheeky smirk. "Besides, people always say I'm dripping with good looks—"

Clang!

A second water whip sent his baton skidding across the street and into a worn brick wall.

Yet, her partner was nonplussed, and as he bounded after his staff, he even had the time—and audacity?!—to throw her a wink. How this cheeky cat managed to flirt, pun and fight in the same breath was beyond her.

She flung her yoyo at Water Queen, distracting her with a series of quick attacks, while Chat snatched his baton off the sidewalk.

"Thanks, Mar— Ma— M'Lady!"

Chat was struck by a sudden coughing fit.

"Chat Noir! Look out!"

He backflipped onto a lamppost, just as an onslaught of ice swarmed his former spot on the sidewalk. Then, the ice sloshed her way, and she too escaped onto the lamppost.

Or more precisely, into Chat's arms.

Lampposts weren't exactly known for their standing room.

Chat's words echoed the grin on his face. "I sea you couldn't resist me." His eyebrow waggle absolved any doubt as to whether or not he knew he'd just cracked another water pun.

Through an eye roll, Marinette's nose twitched. He smelt distinctly floral today. Like roses. She did not lean closer to breathe him in. Definitely not.

Nope.

Definitely not in the middle of an akuma battle.

But with a flourish of her yoyo, Marinette did spring from his arms and onto a slated rooftop, seeking shelter behind a wide, soaring chimney.

Chat's light footsteps followed and seconds later, he dropped to his haunches beside her, his cat ears twitching with every incensed shriek and swish of water that pierced the morning air.

Marinette's gloved finger tapped her yoyo. "I don't understand. My Lucky Charm was a water balloon"—she gestured to her hair, where bits of red and black rubber still clung—"and I still can't figure out her M.O. She's mad at her boyfriend for dressing up in red instead of as some bald guy with an arrow on his head? And suddenly, she's shooting water everywhere. Water that turns to ICE!"

Chat snapped his fingers. "I know water problem is!"

Okay, that pun was admittedly good. "What?"

"Tie up her arms and legs." He criss-crossed his wrists, a silent demonstration. "That way, she can't bend—"

Crack!

She sprung clear of another water whip, finding her footing atop a roof two buildings down.

"Stay still, you mangy cat!"

"No need to kick up a storm, Snow Queen!"

Marinette spotted Chat on a chimney cap across the street, flipping and cartwheeling around a flurry of attacks.

She launched off the roof, lobbing her yoyo Water Queen's way.

In a flash of ice, her yoyo ricocheted, and the akuma's attention was on her. That was her cue to start bouncing around the rooftops like a pinball. "Chat," she called out, zipping her yoyo into her awaiting palm, "what do you mean 'she can't bend'?"

Water gushed from Water Queen's pouch—aha, the pouch!—as she hurled an icy javelin toward her.

Marinette ducked as if doing the limbo. "She looks plenty flexible to ME!"

He split his baton and hurled one half at Water Queen.

It struck her torso. Threw her off balance. Panicked, she flung a wave of water in the air, leaving Chat diving free of its reach.

Conveniently, that brought him to the very rooftop on which Marinette stood. She pulled him to his feet, and could've sworn his ears flushed red.

"You—" Chat's voice cracked. He coughed into a gloved hand. "You know? Waterbend!" He waved his hands about—"Wshhh! Fwshhh! Wfffff! Water slice!"—and cut his forearm through the air.

Marinette blinked.

He heaved a sigh, his shoulders slumping. "Never mind—"

Water Queen swooped up from the street, riding a heightening swell.

Curling an arm around Marinette, Chat stretched his baton and launched them three rooftops down. "You obviously haven't seen Avatar," he said as they touched down.

Only then did the penny drop. "Ohhh! The blue people?" She smacked her forehead. "That explains her blue skin!"

"Not THAT Avatar!" Chat and Water Queen squawked in unison.

The water was a crumbling dam, descending upon them, and this time Marinette held Chat, droplets licking their feet as she swung them free from the onslaught.

"I really ought to school you on pop culture, M'Lady," he declared in her ear.

They dropped to a puddle-ridden street, with Water Queen close behind. Her watery assaults had them leaping about like fleas.

"Is it so wrong," she called, her yoyo cutting through a water whip, "for me to not watch anime?"

Water Queen rained icicles upon them.

"Avatar is NOT an anime!"

Marinette pulled Chat close and spun her yoyo into a shield. "Are you SURE about that, Water Queen?" she called over the cacophony, a smirk coating her every word. "Seems pretty anime, if you ask ME."

"And Kataang?" Chat added, a gleam in his eyes. "The worst ship in the show! Paws down."

Water Queen unleashed a roar, swapping the icicles in favour of a thunderous tsunami.

The superheroes sprung apart.

Water slammed the street.

Marinette hopped from one abandoned car to the next, just out of reach of the climbing water. Bind her limbs, Chat had said. She just needed an opening.

"Hey, Ice Witch," Chat called, from atop his new perch on a lamppost. "Your water pouch has an endless supply of water. That's not very canon, y'know!"

What did cannons have to do with any of this?

"I'm BETTER than canon, you filthy stray!"

Chat's arms flailed as his body curled around an inbound icicle.

"I'm REAL!"

"Well, I'm all for submersion." He fired her a wink.

Of course. Now, he was flirting with the akuma victim.

"But you've gotta stay within the parameters of your world, right, Bugaboo?"

Water Queen gnashed her teeth. "Give me your Miraculous, you stupid cat!" She lunged for Chat with her bare hands, his taunts apparently evaporating her watery talents from her mind.

Marinette knew this was the time. Like a practiced baseballer, she threw her yoyo at Water Queen, binding her limbs together in a few short seconds.

The villain fell to the sidewalk, a flopping fish out of water.

"Cataclysm!"

Without prompting, Chat's claw tapped the pouch around Water Queen's waist, and it crumbled to ash. Her squirming stopped as a familiar butterfly fluttered toward the azure sky overhead.

The water pouch. As suspected! And as Chat had clearly deduced. Maybe being an anime nerd could come in handy from time to time, especially when Hawk Moth bestowed an unsuspecting cosplayer with real life superpowers—

Wait.

Cosplayer—

THE CONVENTION!

"Bye bye, little butterfly!"

Picking bits of water balloon from her hair, Marinette summoned her Miraculous Cure and for once, didn't wait to watch the magic happen. Instead, she raced up to Chat, who'd knelt between the now de-akumatized Ella and a newly defrosted guy in an orange jumpsuit, a metal headband wrapped around his blond head. Was that a wig?

Chat looked up, his cat-eyes twinkling and his smile soft as he held up a hand. "Pound it?"

"Pound it!"

The fist bump was rushed.

"In a hurry, LB?"

"Yeah! I've, uh, gotta jet!" She threw a thumb over her shoulder. "Sorry, kitty! Thanks for today. I might just take you up on those anime lessons, after all!"

With a swing of her yoyo, Marinette swooped around the nearest corner—

"Avatar's not an anime, Bugaboo!"

—and wondered if Chat would also be at the Japan Expo. She'd arrived on the scene first, but he'd been there soon after. Plus, he seemed to be a huge anime fan. What if she bumped into him and didn't even know it? What would he even dress up as? Or would he not dress up at all? The thought of running into civilian Chat gave her pause, but Marinette shook her head. Superhero time was over.

Being Ladybug was one thing.

Now, it was time for something even scarier.

To convince Adrien Agreste over the course of their not-double date that she was his One True Love.

Marinette made sure to duck into the women's restroom this time.

It wouldn't do to reveal her identity, now, would it?

Notes:

Next up, we find out what's going on in Adrien-senpai's head! PS. Did you spot the reference to another anime? ;D

Chapter 4

Notes:

If you aren't cackling like the wicked witch of the west or wheezing like koffing's evolution in this chapter, then we've failed. Utterly failed.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Marinette was Ladybug.

Ladybug was Marinette.

And Adrien?

Somebody call an ambulance 'cause he was in cardiac Agreste.

That, and desperately hoping he hadn't missed the train—and by extension, valuable time spent with his lady.

The newly de-evilized Ella had been heartbroken by the delay and destruction she'd caused, and of course, Adrien felt it his princely duty to aid a damsel in distress. A recipe for tardiness, he knew, but why be early if he didn't spare the time to help someone out?

Chat Noir joined a distraught Ella on the sidewalk and placed a paw on her sob-shaken shoulder.

"I'm— I'm so sorry!" She buried her palms in her eyes, smearing mascara along with her tears. "Thi-This is— I-I shouldn't have— If Dion di-didn't want to be Aang, who am I to— I shouldn't force him t-t-to be something he's not!" Not the most coherent of phrasing, but he was something of an expert at deciphering word vomit.

"Maybe if you look a little closer—beyond the mask—you'll see the guy of your dreams is already there."

His words took a moment to digest, but he knew when they hit their mark; Ella lowered her palms from her eyes and peered up at him, and from a waterfall of sorrow emerged a small, wobbly smile.

"Ella?"

A boy in a Zuko costume—the guy she'd frozen in a massive block of ice—emerged from a nearby underground stairway; the one that led to the metro.

"Dion!" she cried, springing from the sidewalk with outstretched arms.

As they reunited in an entanglement of limbs and lips like every Zutara fic he'd ever read (and written), Adrien smiled to himself and turned on his heel. They deserved a little privacy.

Flicking up his baton screen to check the time, he shot ramrod straight.

The train.

It was due in just minutes.

"Can't keep M'Lady wading!"

One de-transformation later, Plagg spoke from inside Adrien's blue blazer as he moseyed out of the very much empty men's restroom. "Your puns are outta control, kid."

"You think I was pouring it on a little thick, don't you?"

Plagg unleashed a groan. "The way to a girl's heart is cheese, not puns! Have I taught you nothing?"

"Everything I've learnt about wooing a woman, I've learnt from shoujo anime."

"Ignore my advice at your own peril."

"Plagg, just let it Brie."

He may have been cosplaying Tamaki Suoh, but he was still Adrien Agreste, and Adrien Agreste never missed an opportunity to pun when in costume. Snickering to himself, he crossed the threshold from the empty corridor to the bustling platform, forcing Plagg to end another monologue about where Brie stood in the hierarchy of cheeses. (Fourth place, according to his kwami. The hierarchy never changed, but Plagg never tired of telling him anyway.)

His eyes darted about, searching the crowd of cosplayers for his friends and One True Love.

Alya and Nino were near a vending machine.

But where was Marinette?

As he approached, Adrien had his answer. There was the love of his life, bent forward, a paper bag expanding and contracting with her every breath. She threw the bag aside and gripped Alya by the shirt. "What if there was a sudden convening of international teenage models?"

He stopped in his tracks, tilting his head to one side, and his eyes locked with Alya's as Marinette shook her like a ragdoll.

"And, of course, being the beautiful specimen that he is, he would have HAD to show his perfect face! It'd be an absolute disservice to the conference if he didn't!" In a blur of pink, she zipped to Nino, clung to his arms and shook him frantically. "Nino! Where is he? Is he okay?!"

Adrien pushed forward once more. "Marinette—"

She sprung three feet in the air. Say what you will about her coordination; Marinette had the vertical jump of a gymnast.

"Are you okay, Marinette?" He stopped beside her, pressing his palm to her forehead. A little on the warm side. "You're a little hot—"

In a flail of limbs, she teetered three steps back from him and his hand, her eyes flying up and down his costume. Did her eye just twitch? "YOU'RE a little hot—" She bolted dead straight. "I - I mean, your eyes— Woo!" Her hand flapped in front of her face. "Uh, purple. You look very purple. And handsome—"

Wait.

Did she just call him handsome?

"Dah!" Her arms blurred through the air. "Your costume. It's very handsome."

Oh...

"Not that you're NOT, of course."

Oh?

"Who would've thought wearing blue would make your eyes look so dreamy— I - I mean, steamy— no, uhh—"

The fragrance of a rose wafted through the air.

His cue.

With a fanciful flourish, Adrien plucked the redolent rose from his blazer pocket and, with a princely dip of his head, presented it to His Fair Princess. "Though this rose is lovely, it could never compare to thee, M'Ladybug."

As her mouth popped open, Marinette went, dare he think, bug-eyed. "Cha… Chat Noir?" The name rolled off her tongue like warm honey, and the ecstatic smile that parted her lips was a magical sweetness all its own. "It's you. It's always been you!"

His heart fluttered like vibrant cherry blossoms dancing in the fresh air of Japanese springtime. "Yes, Marinette," he breathed, bringing her closer; so close the warmth of her breath fanned his face as she gazed up at him with that entrancing, sky-blue stare. "It's always been you and me—"

"—against the world," she finished, drawing closer still, the delightful scent of macarons filling his senses.

"Baby"—he dipped her with a suaveness befitting of a prince—"you're my forever girl."

With Marinette in his arms, her lips full, lightly glossy, and yearning to close the distance to his own, Adrien closed his eyes in anticipation of the kiss he'd be tasting for the rest of his perfect, thrilling, gloriously blissful life—

"Dude."

"Is he okay?" A girl's voice who was distinctly NOT his lady's intruded on his daydream.

"Were you hit by Water Queen? You're spacing out, my man."

He was about to space right out of this WORLD! His chest burned with embarrassment, and he dearly hoped this wouldn't be like one of the times Plagg caught him in the bathroom acting out his fantasies.

And then, a softer voice.

"That's a lovely rose." The words were a symphony from her lips.

A smile without judgment dispelled any notion of awkwardness. He remembered how kind she'd always been to him.

"Red roses symbolise passion." His thoughts flicked back to their shared moment atop the Eiffel Tower. Back then, he'd presented her with a yellow rose for friendship. "But you, err, already knew that."

Marinette blinked at him, her brows steadily furling. "I - I did?" Comprehension dawned on her face. "Oh, right. I did! A good friend once told me."

"Yeah. A friend..."

A montage of Weredad zipped through his mind. He grimaced, and before he could say anything else incriminating, the train whistle flooded the platform.

Alya slapped her forehead, dragging that same hand down her face. "I'mma just slam the emergency brake and dodge this trainwreck of a conversation." Plonking a hand on each of their shoulders, she swerved them toward the opening doors.

"We've got a convention to get to, awkward turtles!" Nino offered them an encouraging grin and a double thumbs up.

When the train stopped before them, it was more jam-packed with people than his closet was with clothes. A shoulder-to-shoulder sea of cosplayers, sporting home-sewn costumes and carefully styled wigs and other such impressive feats of wondrous creativity. One cosplay of Cloud Strife, complete with a perfectly-crafted replica of his super awesome broadsword, had his eyes blowing wide. Could he order that off Amazon?

But when his wonder waned, it dawned on him that they had to actually get through this crush of people. He started to suggest that they catch the next train, when Alya brushed past him, tugging Nino along by the hand. "Sorry, Sunshine! We've gotta get this train to make our connection on time. It'll only be three stops. Come on. Squish!"

What else could he do? He clambered on in, a tangle of limbs like every other metro-goer, and Marinette was right behind him. He'd never been in such a tight squeeze before. (Not in the literal sense, anyway.) Pulling a one-eighty—and trying his best not to elbow Nino in the nose—he managed, through sheer determination and force of will, to face Marinette, who'd pressed her back to the train doors.

Even while pancaked between a looming, admittedly intimidating Ryuk and a spectacular cosplay of Alphonse Elric, Marinette flashed him a grin. He didn't know why, exactly, but was all too happy to return it. His princess was so cute.

The train accelerated.

The crowd tumbled around, one guy knocking into him.

Adrien gasped.

Stumbled forward.

Held his hands out to catch himself.

And realised that in the process, he'd put Marinette in a rather compromising position.

Kabedon.

KABEDON!

Hands on either side of the door behind her. His face, hovering so very close to hers.

The perfect pose.

For a confession.

Adrien's heart pounded in his chest, loud in his ears, even over the hum of the train and the countless conversations around them. His tongue peeked out to lightly trace along his lips. "Hi."

"Hi," she practically squeaked.

He cleared his throat. "Sorry about..." He nodded to his arms, still pressed to either side of her. Made absolutely no attempt to pull away.

"You did warn us about the drain," Marinette breathed, staring up at him with those wide doe-eyes.

(He assumed she meant "train".)

"I can move if you want?" Only if she wanted him to, though. If the decision was his alone, he'd never move again. Ever.

Her rosy pink lips parted.

"I - I..."

Even the slightest movement of her lips was utterly spellbinding. What if he smoothed his hand beneath her chin? And tilted her perfect lips a breath closer to his own? What would Tamaka-senpai do?

His hand barely lifted an inch when a monotonous, automated voice punctured the romantic tension swelling inside of him.

"The doors are opening. Please step away from the opening doors."

They slid open behind her.

There was no time for words.

Adrien pulled her close, her petite hands finding purchase on his chest.

A stream of people pushed past them.

But she was there, safe in his arms.

And turning beet red.

Only when the doors slid back to a close did Adrien bring himself to release her. In the most princely voice he could muster, he asked, "Are you alright, M'Lady?"

"Peachy." Her voice spiked in pitch. "Absolutely peachy!"

Notes:

If peachy is a code word for being very much in danger of confessing her undying love for Adrien Agreste, then yes, Marinette is indeed feeling absolutely peachy. If you're feeling peachy too, please leave us a juicy comment ;D