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It was a hot, airless night in Paris. Flags wilted against their poles. Flowers drooped. The atmosphere was thicker than a down comforter. The streets were all but deserted as Chat Noir leapt from rooftop to rooftop, enjoying the kiss of wind on his face. Everyone who could had fled indoors for what cool respite their overworked electric fans could provide.
Chat Noir let the breeze stirred up by his motion sweep his sweat-soaked bangs out of his eyes. As hot and oppressive as the night was, he was thrilled to be out, thrilled to be free. There was only one thing missing.
Landing on Marinette’s balcony, he rapped on her skylight. “Princess?”
Marinette took longer than usual to open the skylight. “Get in here before the cold air escapes,” she ordered, looking even sweatier than Chat Noir felt. “I don’t know how you survive swooping around in black leather all summer.”
“It’s magic leather,” Chat Noir explained, alighting on the end of Marinette’s bed. “Don’t you think I look purrty in it?”
“Purrty ridiculous, maybe,” said Marinette, but she softened at his expression. “You look fine, Chat Noir.”
Chat Noir raised an eyebrow. “Fine?”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay. You’re pretty. Happy?”
“Very.” Chat Noir flopped onto his back. His suit might have been magic, but in that moment the breeze from Marinette’s fan felt even more magical. His eyes settled on the collection of pictures on Marinette’s bulletin board. “…Am I prettier than him?” he asked, tapping his own face.
Marinette followed his gaze, then flushed. “I’ve been meaning to take most of those down,” she said.
“Really? I thought you were a fan.”
“I was, I guess.” Marinette joined Chat Noir on the bed. “But now I’m a friend.”
Chat Noir couldn’t hide his smile. “Okay,” he said. “So I am prettier?”
She shoved him. “Sure, if it makes you happy.”
“Are you kitten me? It makes me pawsitively delighted!”
Marinette threw a pillow at Chat Noir, but he dodged. “What do you want?” she asked. “It’s too hot for video games. It’s too hot to move.”
Chat Noir folded his arms behind his head, making a show of perfect comfort. “How would you feeline about a swim, princess?”
“A swim?” Marinette raised her eyebrows. “All the public pools are closed at this hour.”
Chat Noir couldn’t hold back a smirk. Thank goodness for Chloé. He owed her a favor now, but it would all be worth it if Marinette said yes. “I’m talking about a private pool. We’ll be undisturbed, with a great view of the city skyline.”
“And you’re going to swim in that?” Marinette asked, gesturing to Chat Noir’s outfit.
“Not exactly,” he said, pulling a black mask out of his pocket. The fabric was breathable enough that he wouldn’t suffer while wearing it, and it should cover enough of his face that his identity would be safe. He hoped.
Marinette hesitated, but her desire to cool off won out over her cautious instincts. “Okay,” she said. “But turn around while I change into my swimsuit.”
Chat Noir did as he was told. As he listened to the rustle of fabric behind him, he tried not to think too hard about Marinette changing. After his years of modeling, Chat Noir would have expected himself to be thoroughly desensitized to nakedness of all sorts. No, it turned out. When it came to Marinette, he was very… sensitized.
He took a very deep breath, forcing himself to think about football, politics, public radio, anything but her. They were friends. Good friends. That was all, and that was okay. He was honored to be Marinette’s friend.
“Okay,” said Marinette, and Chat Noir turned around.
His jaw dropped.
Marinette wore a short pink and grey sundress embroidered with cherry blossoms. She looked stunning, and Chat Noir’s heart couldn’t take it.
Marinette tugged the hem of her dress lower. “Is it too much? I’ve been meaning to see how this design holds up to real use.”
“Not too much!” Chat Noir managed. “You look good—uh—beautiful.”
Marinette giggled. “Thanks,” she said. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Chat Noir pulled himself together as he and Marinette climbed out onto her balcony. The trip to Le Grand Paris’s rooftop pool with his arm around her waist was awkward, but not unpleasant. Every time Chat Noir looked over at Marinette, she smiled at him in a way that made him wonder if she knew what she was doing to his heart just by existing in that dress. The way her hair blew in the wind and the soft pink glow lighting her cheeks gave Marinette the look of a fairytale heroine.
Okay. So maybe he was in love with Marinette, just a little. It didn’t have to ruin their pool date. Hangout. Pool hangout. Chat Noir was smooth. He was suave. He was fine.
“Watch out!” Marinette cried, fear creeping into her voice.
Chat Noir swerved just in time to avoid a chimney. “I’m so sorry, princess! Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” said Marinette serenely. “Are you?”
“Of course,” said Chat Noir, hoping she would mistake any trace of a blush on his cheeks for the redness of exertion.
What was he doing?
As Chloé had promised, the pool area on the roof of Le Grand Paris was deserted. A pair of fluffy, white towels waited by the side of the pool, along with a picnic basket. Strings of fairy lights suspended overhead made the water glow gold.
“It looks like apple juice,” said Marinette.
“Or beer,” said Chat Noir, yelping when she shoved him. “Now it’s your turn to turn around, princess.”
Marinette complied, looking nervous.
Not for the first time, it occurred to Chat Noir that detransforming with Marinette so near felt as intimate as her nakedness had when she changed into her swimsuit. He couldn’t help but close his eyes. “Claws in,” he whispered, feeling his detransformation wash over him.
Adrien Agreste stood behind Marinette in his swim trunks, feeling like a peeled shrimp. He felt like a boiled shrimp, too. Without the protection of his magical suit, it felt even hotter. He pulled on his mask, wishing he could stop his heart from trying to beat out of his chest.
“Okay,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “I’m ready.”
Marinette turned around.
For a moment, they stood as still as statues, gazing at each other. Adrien had touched Marinette before, of course—they were friends, after all. He had even been swimming with her before. But there was something raw and new and tentative about this. He stepped forward, reaching without reaching.
And Marinette took his hand, closing the gap between them. Her skin was soft.
“Shall we?” she asked. “Before I melt?”
Adrien smiled until his cheeks ached, knowing he looked ridiculous. “Yeah,” he said. “We shall.”
Marinette let go of his hand and pulled her sundress over her head, revealing a red bikini with white spots.
Adrien was normal about this. He was fine.
…His face was as red as the bikini.
To distract both of them from the extreme awkwardness of his expression, he jumped into the deep end, keeping one hand on his mask to hold it in place. The water was freezing. Adrien’s skin prickled as tiny bubbles swirled around him on their way to the surface.
When he came up, sneezing water out of his nose, Marinette was laughing at him from the edge of the pool. “Your—your face!” she snorted.
Adrien hissed, splashing her. This only made Marinette laugh harder.
“It’s colder than I expected,” she said.
Adrien wiped his sodden bangs out of his eyes with the back of his hand. “It’s easier if you jump in,” he said wheedlingly.
Marinette splashed him back. “I like to take my time,” she said, and suddenly Adrien wasn’t completely sure they were just talking about getting into the pool. “I’ll jump in when I’m ready, I promise.”
“I’m glad you want to,” said Adrien, straightening his mask. “To… to be here with me, I mean.”
Marinette leaned forward, wobbling slightly. “I do,” she said. “You’re so special to me.”
Adrien was grateful that Plagg was distracted by the picnic basket full of Camembert. He could only imagine what this conversation would be like with commentary. He reached for Marinette’s hand again. Marinette steadied herself on Adrien’s arm. Then, still clinging to him, she plunged into the cold water.
“Whoo!” she laughed when her head broke the surface again. “This is perfect.”
“You’re perfect,” said Adrien.
The words slipped out of his mouth unbidden, but they felt right. Marinette was standing so close to him that he could smell her shampoo, and she was looking at him like that. He could do this.
“Marinette, I want…”
Marinette’s eyes sparkled as she looked up at him. She was so lovely that Adrien’s heart ached as it strove to beat out of his chest. He loved her. When had that happened? It felt as natural as breathing now.
“I know,” she said. “And I think—I think I’m finally ready to take that leap.”
And just like that, Adrien was floating.