Work Text:
The sun is hot, the water is cool, and Adrien is just grateful for the chance to enjoy both together with his friends. It’s rare for him to be allowed out with his father’s permission, let alone for something as scandalous as a pool party, but here he is, in a rooftop pool, enjoying the warmth of the day, the company of his friends, and the sight of the girls, lying out on the pool chairs as they chat and sun themselves in their swimsuits.
Or, if he’s being honest with himself, the sight of one girl in particular.
Try as he might, his eyes are drawn over and over again to her.
To Marinette.
To his Lady.
To be fair, it isn't exactly an unusual occurrence. He's always liked to look at Marinette. She’s always made him feel warm and safe and happy, even if she hadn’t seemed quite as comfortable with him as he feels with her.
The reveal, realizing he’d been in love with her for years, made that sense of warmth he’s always felt around her grow warmer.
Of course, hanging out by the pool in their swimsuits... Well, it isn't only her face he keeps looking at.
It's not his fault. He's seventeen years old with a seventeen year old’s thoughts and a seventeen year old’s desires and a seventeen year old’s libido.
And he’s in love with her.
Of course he’s looking.
She’s irresistible.
That’s okay though, isn’t it? A little look here and there? It's not like her looks are the only thing—or even the primary thing—he cares about. It’s not like he’s objectifying her. It’s not like he's staring.
From his place in the pool with some of the boys, Adrien glances Marinette’s way again, only to find her looking back at him. He gives her a friendly smile, but instead of smiling back, she turns away.
(He hasn't been staring, right? He'd never want to make her uncomfortable.)
He diverts his anxious thoughts into movement, diving under the water to retrieve one of several brightly coloured rings from the bottom of the pool. When he breaks the surface, sucking in air and shaking the water from his hair, he feels like he’s being watched. He swims to the edge and uses a hand to lift himself half out of the pool as he tosses the ring into a pile.
Adrien chances another glance at Marinette. She's looking at him again. Her cheeks are pink. Did she get too much sun? Or... does she like what she sees?
He swallows.
He's being stupid, right? It's stupid to get his hopes up when he knows she doesn't feel that way about him.
But...what if she could?
What if she's noticing that he's grown up and filled out. That he's not just her dorky kitty anymore?
He's surely being stupid, but he'd never forgive himself if it turns out he had a chance and he missed it.
Just...how does one even go about trying to look sexy?
Adrien hasn't done any mature type of shoots yet. No underwear shoots, no swimwear, not so much as an unbuttoned shirt. Although he’s only a few months away from legal adulthood, his father has still kept him relegated to a safe, family-friendly image. So he doesn't have any modelling experience with trying to appear sexually attractive really.
And his experiences with the opposite sex are not even worth talking about. Hard to get much in the way of experience when you’ve been painfully in love with the same girl for four years, and she’s not remotely interested.
Except... (He glances at her out of the corner of his eye. She’s still watching him.) It kind of looks like she might be?
Okay, he can do this. Just because he hasn’t tried this before doesn’t mean he can’t make it work. He’ll just use what he’s learned from all these years of shoots—angles and lighting and being conscious of his body—and adapt it. It can't be that different, right?
Adrien lifts himself fully out of the pool with a little more effort than necessary in order to show off his arms. He stands, tightening his abdominals and stretching his arms over his head, making a show of squeezing pool water out of his hair.
Is there water dripping down his chest? He hopes so. That’d be sexy, right?
Okay, what now? Don’t panic, Agreste. It’s just like a photo shoot. Just move from pose to pose without trying to look like you’re posing. Easy. Just give her something to look at and hope you don’t look like an idiot.
He shifts his body subtly, letting his muscles move, highlighting the hard planes of his body.
There, just like that. That stupid boy she loves probably doesn’t have a body like this. He probably isn’t a model; he hasn’t done years of fencing and basketball and superheroics to get fit and have muscles like these.
Not that Marinette’s ever seemed to care about shallow things like that.
He swallows, gut sinking at the reminder.
Of course Marinette isn’t so shallow as to fall for someone just because they’re good looking or have a nice body.
Still...
He chances another little look Marinette’s way, and can’t help the little thrill that courses through him when he sees her looking in his direction.
Please let her be looking at him.
If he has her attention right now, Adrien’s going to do everything he can to keep it.
Maybe she just likes how he looks. (Please let her like how he looks.) Maybe there’s nothing more to it than a small physical attraction. He can work with this. (He’ll work with any scrap she gives him.)
He heads over to where he threw his towel earlier, conveniently closer to where the girls are sitting. Picking up his towel, he begins drying himself off completely impractically, starting with rubbing the towel along the back of his neck with both hands, the better to stretch out and show off his pecs.
He looks at Marinette as often as he can without her noticing, and every time he does, her eyes are on him. Forget the sun, his skin is hot from the heat of her looks alone.
He steps a foot onto the end of his chair so that he can dry his calves (that is: bring her attention to them), and when he looks up this time, their eyes meet.
He licks his lips, throat gone dry at the intensity of her eyes on his. And then she mimics the gesture and warmth pools in his belly.
Gathering his courage, Adrien makes his way over to where the girls are sunbathing, coming to stand in front of Marinette's lounge chair. A couple of the girls giggle and he's sure he's being entirely too obvious, but he can't bring himself to care when Marinette is looking at him like that.
"Having fun?" he asks.
"You're hot," Marinette murmurs then jolts, shaking her head. Her pink cheeks look even pinker up close. "No, you're not hot, I mean it's hot and you must be hot because the sun - it's so hot, right?"
Adrien blinks, unsure what to make of that. Did he imagine her watching him?
"I'm okay. The water's refreshing. But it is hot today. Are you warm? Do you want me to get you a drink?"
"That's a great idea," Alya pipes up. "Marinette's very thirsty. Isn't that right, Marinette?"
"Alya!" Marinette cries.
"It's no trouble," Adrien rushes to reassure her. "What are you drinking? Daiquiri?"
"I don't think that's what she's thirsting for," Alix chortles.
Marinette whips around to glare at her while Adrien frowns. He was sure that was his Lady's favourite summer drink. Does he not know her as well as he thought? His gut twists. What else is he wrong about? Has he been reading her wrong all afternoon as well? That would be just like him, to let his wishful thinking colour his reading of the situation.
"Oh," he says, trying to hide his disappointment. "Well, what did you want then? I'll get it for you."
One of the girls murmurs something about being sure Marinette would love him to give it to her, but it's spoken so lowly that he clearly misheard because it makes no sense.
"Actually, I'd love a daiquiri. And - and nothing else. In fact—" Marinette jumps to her feet "—I'll come with you. Right now. Let's go!"
"Okay," he agrees, unsure, but he follows after her dutifully as she makes her way to the bar, hips swinging with every step, testing his self-control as he tries not to ogle her perfect behind.
The deck is covered in puddles from all the splashing around and when Marinette steps in one, her foot slides forward and her arms fly out as she tries to catch her balance.
Adrien is quick to catch her, his hands steady on her waist.
"I've got you, Bug," he murmurs against her ear.
She shivers. His skin must be cold from his swim.
Even still, he can't quite bring himself to move away entirely, and though he straightens, he keeps a hand on Marinette's waist.
Just to keep her safe as they make their way across the slippery floor, he tells himself. It has nothing to do with how he enjoys having her close, or how good her warm, bare skin feels against his palm.
He's just concerned, that's all.
She must be concerned, too, because she doesn't move away either.
They arrive at the bar without further incident and Adrien reluctantly releases his hold on her waist, then orders their drinks.
"Two?" Marinette asks.
"One for me."
"You want a daiquiri?"
"Sure, why not? Maybe I want to see why you like them so much." He winks.
“I would’ve given you a taste.” Her eyes sparkle, and he shifts towards her, helpless to resist her pull.
“Two daiquiris,” the bartender announces, placing the drinks on the bartop between them, and they jump apart, surprised.
Unsure how to proceed, Adrien picks up his drink, and observes Marinette doing the same. He sucks on the straw, tasting icy strawberry and sugar.
“So? What do you think?” she asks. Her lips are wet and shiny from her own sip, and Adrien stares. Forget the daiquiri, he wants to taste her. “Good?”
He shakes his head. He needs to focus. “Good,” he agrees. “It’s yummy. Fruity.”
Smooth, Agreste.
She laughs lightly. “I should have guessed you’d like that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh - just, you know,” Marinette says, swirling her straw. “You never worry about how you look. Um, wait, that came out wrong! I just mean, you know, some people—not me, of course, but you know—well, they’d think a fruity drink is girly and of course you don’t care about that! And that’s cool! I mean - I’m not saying you’re cool. Or wait, no—”
Marinette’s words drop like ice into his stomach, and suddenly he doesn't want the daiquiri anymore.
Is that the problem? Is he not...manly enough for her?
He can be manly!
...how can he be manly? Maybe he should try growing a beard? He still doesn’t have much in the way of facial hair, and it’s so fair... Plus he’s not sure his father would even let him try. Actually, it’s pretty much a given that he’d be forced to shave it off. Besides, it’s not really something he can do to prove himself to her now.
Muscles are manly, aren’t they? He could try flexing more, maybe?
Adrien tries to cross his arms in front of his chest before remembering he’s still holding that stupid daiquiri, and pausing awkwardly with one arm across his chest and the other holding out his drink. He doesn’t need his years of experience modeling to know that this pose isn’t impressing anybody.
“You know what?” he says, interrupting Marinette’s attempt to make him feel better. He holds the drink out to her. “Why don’t you have mine too? You like daiquiris.”
Her eyebrows furrow. “I thought you said you liked it.”
He shrugs as best as he can with one arm extended and the other still in its ridiculous position half across his body. Why didn’t he move his arm? He tries now, but it’s suddenly like he’s seven years old and never moved his body before. What does he normally do with his hands??
“It’s fine. But you’re right, I should try something else.” Like beer. Beer is manly, right? It tastes terrible, but he can put up with that if it means impressing her. Not that she’s looking particularly impressed right now... Maybe just a cola?
“I didn’t mean to make you feel like you couldn’t drink it,” she says quietly, eyes downcast towards her drink rather than looking at him. (That’s one bright spot in this, he supposes. If she’s not looking at him, she’s not seeing how cloddish he looks right now as he puts his drink back on the bartop and crosses his arms.) “Sometimes my words come out wrong, but I meant it when I said that was one of the things I like about you.”
His lips pull in a sad attempt at a smile. “What, you like that I’m not manly?”
“No!” she bursts. “I mean, what are you talking about? Of course you’re manly! You’re—” Marinette breaks off abruptly, snapping her mouth shut and looking around. When she’s ascertained that no one’s paying any particular attention to them, she meets his eyes and continues in a lower voice, “You’re a hero, kitty. You’ve saved me more times than I can count.” She shakes her head. “I really did just mean that I like that you don’t care about ideas of masculinity or femininity or whatever.”
“Oh.”
Well, he’s blown it now.
Although, really, just because she looked like she was maybe looking his way earlier, doesn’t mean he actually had anything like a chance to blow anyway. That was probably all in his head to begin with. So it’s not like he’s lost anything and that uncomfortable dropping sensation in his gut can just go away because it’s not like Marinette was ever interested in him anyway!
“Chaton.” The intensity of her voice is matched by the intensity of her eyes. The small, cold hand she grabs his arm with is surprisingly strong. “You’re wonderful exactly the way you are. You don’t need to change for me - or - or for anyone! You - you’re so brave, the way you aren’t afraid to wear your heart on your sleeve and - and the things you say. You always know what to say to get me out of my head. Your sensitivity is one of my favourite things about you. How sweet and kind you are with victims, especially kids, after someone’s been akumatized. The way you’re always willing to think the best of people and give them another chance, even when they don’t deserve it, even me back when we first met. How much you care about your friends. What an unapologetic dork you are.” She laughs lightly, but her eyes are soft.
Adrien can only stare as the love of his life sings his praises. He’s melting.
“Even before we knew, I was amazed by you. How much you carry without complaint. Your positive attitude. You’re so important to me. I think you’re amazing. Please don’t think for a second that I would change a single thing about you. I wouldn’t. I’m so glad you came to my school, that fate chose you to be my partner. I’m so glad that we’re friends.”
That last word kills his hopes, even as he shares the sentiment. Her friendship has always been the most important thing to him. (It’s not her fault that he wants more.)
It's okay that she doesn't think he's sexy, he reminds himself. It's okay that she's not attracted to him. She thinks he's wonderful. She thinks he's sweet and kind. She wouldn’t change him. He's so important to her.
That's worth a lot.
That's everything.
And yes, he's disappointed. A little. Okay, a lot. But that's really his own fault for getting his hopes up when he should've known better.
After all, Marinette has always been clear that she doesn't see him that way.
He offers her a smile, as bright as he can manage in the circumstances, and says, "Thank you for saying that. It really means a lot coming from you because I think you’re wonderful too. It’s funny that you mention me giving you another chance because I’ve always been so grateful that you were willing to give me one. That you saw a socially awkward kid who was friends with someone you hated and looked like he’d done something awful to you and, even despite all that, you were willing to listen to me, to give me a chance to explain, to be my friend.”
He inhales deeply and lets it out slowly. He’s overwhelmed by his feelings, by how much he loves the amazing girl in front of him, the one whose hand is still on his arm, her eyes still intent on his.
“I admire you so much,” he continues, finding it impossible to stop his gushing now that he’s started. “I’m so blown away by your creativity. The way you can design anything from a dress to a hat to a poster to an album cover to a whole complicated plan using a fork! I’m just - so amazed by the way your mind works. I wish I had even a fraction of your creativity. You’re just so, so amazing.”
He finds himself smiling at her naturally now, can feel his face softening the way it always does when he’s reminded of how lucky he is to know her, to be part of her life, to be her friend, to be her partner.
“And you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met. I’ll never forget that moment when you first told Hawkmoth off and promised all of Paris that we’d protect them, when just moments before you’d been so afraid. That’s real bravery. I’ve always admired how you always go after what you believe in, even when it’s scary."
When he finishes, she's staring at him with those beautiful bluebell eyes as wide as can be. And then those eyes are suddenly a lot closer before they disappear behind thick lashes, and Marinette's hands (they're cold from the drink, he notices inanely) settle on his chest about half a second before her lips meet his.
It's nothing like he ever imagined their first kiss to be. This isn't a soft, uncertain pressing of tentative lips. This is hot, urgent, demanding. Marinette kisses him with an intensity beyond his imaginings, her insistent tongue sliding into his mouth and laying claim. Her siege lasts 3, 4, 5 glorious seconds before she pulls away abruptly.
And clearly her kiss has shot his filters all to hell because instead of any of the romantic things he should say after being kissed by the love of his life, Adrien smirks. "I always knew one day you'd find me irresistible."
Her face reddens, but she doesn't say anything. Instead she turns and runs off.
It takes Adrien a second to realize that she's leaving. She’s leaving! What did he do, what’s wrong with him, she only just kissed him, how did he screw this up already??
And then he's chasing after her.
He catches up to her just as she slips in another puddle, and this time when he steadies her with his hands on her hip and arm, she shakes off his grip roughly.
"I don't need your help," she hisses as she marches off again, at a brisk but more appropriate pace to the slippery pool surround.
Adrien watches her go, frozen, ice in his veins, until she disappears out of sight into the stairwell.
She can't be planning on walking down twelve flights of stairs, can she? She didn't even grab her bag or coverup before leaving.
He shakes himself free of his paralysis and follows after her.
He needs to fix this. Whatever he did, he'll undo it or apologize or throw himself at her feet and beg forgiveness. Whatever it takes.
He throws open the heavy door, prepared to race down however many flights of stairs he needs to to catch up with her, but as it turns out, it's unnecessary.
He spots her right away: halfway down the first flight, sitting with her arms looped around her legs, her head buried in her knees.
Slowly, so as not to send her running again, he approaches. When she doesn't react, he tentatively sits down next to her, careful to leave a little space between them.
The concrete steps are cold against his bum through his wet trunks, but he barely feels it through the anxiety flooding his entire body.
"I'm sorry," he rasps.
She nods, her face still buried against her knees.
"Can - can we talk about this?" he tries.
She lifts her head to fix him with a look. "What's there to talk about? You wanted to prove a point and you did. Congratulations," she finishes hollowly.
What point did he prove? That he can fuck up anything?
When he voices that, she snorts, then quiets again. She stares down at her knees as she speaks, "I just didn't expect you to tease me like that."
That stupid line.
"I'm sorry," he says again, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just - I was happy and I got ahead of myself. I'm sorry. Obviously you don't think I'm irresistible." He can barely choke out the word, Marinette having driven home just how resistant she is to his charms. He's an idiot. He's spent years trying to get her attention, and when he finally manages it, he screws it up by getting cocky.
But she only turns to him with narrowed eyes. "Wasn't that the whole point? You were trying to get a reaction out of me."
Adrien can't deny it. "Well, yeah, but I didn't think it would work!" His voice lowers. "I know you don't feel that way. I just got so caught up in hoping and thinking that maybe you were finally seeing me as someone you could be interested in that I...” He shrugs a little helplessly. “I was excited and said something stupid. I’m sorry."
Her stare turns scrutinizing and he struggles not to squirm. He hopes he looks appropriately chagrined. He’s said a lot of stupid things in his life, but never has he regretted one more. It’s hard to remember that earlier he had actually wanted their relationship to change. Now he’s desperate to get them back to where they were. Anything as long as he doesn't lose her.
"You're so stupid," she chokes.
"Yeah," he agrees. He hopes this isn’t his optimism getting him into trouble again, but that almost sounded like forgiveness.
She rolls her eyes and Adrien relaxes. It's such a Ladybug look that he's sure he's forgiven now.
They’re still friends, he thinks as he exhales a relieved breath. Friendship has never sounded so wonderful.
Which is why he's caught completely off guard when she grabs his face and crashes their lips back together.
Adrien wants to enjoy the kiss (and he does), but he's too anxious, too confused, too afraid of making another mistake to get lost in it. He rests his hands on Marinette's shoulders and gently disengages.
"You don't want to kiss me?" she asks, and he can hear the strain in her voice.
"Of course I do. I always want to kiss you. Just...since when do you want to kiss me?"
Her hands are still on his cheeks and she holds him steady facing her so it's impossible to miss the familiar glint of determination shining in her eyes.
"You've been showing off all day," Marinette states. There's no question in her tone. She's got him figured out. "You wanted me to look at you. You wanted me watching, wanting you."
He figures honesty is his only option here and nods, a little nervous, a lot hopeful, and utterly captivated.
"Because you want me," she prompts.
Again he nods. He hadn't thought he’d been particularly subtle about that.
He wants to elaborate to explain that it's more than want, though of course he wants her. But this is more than that. He loves her.
He stays silent though, caught in her gaze and afraid of making another mistake. What if she doesn't want another one of his declarations? What if she only wants something physical? He wants everything with her and he's not entirely sure it wouldn't kill him to have almost everything he wants, but hell if he's turning down anything she's offering.
"You're so stupid," she repeats, but there's so much affection in her tone, it's all he can do not to melt. "I'm in love with you," she says, and his jaw drops, his belly flips, and all his nerves light up. Is he dreaming? Maybe he tripped and fell coming down the stairs to see her and this is all a fever dream. It certainly feels real though. His butt isn’t usually going numb in his dreams. "I love you and I want you and you've been teasing me all day. You’re irresistible.” She smirks. “Can we please make out now?"
He nods dumbly and this time when her lips touch his, he's swept away. Marinette doesn't waste any time, mouth insistent against his, her tongue sweeping inside of his mouth, and Adrien does his best to meet her urgency with his own.
She tastes like strawberries. He can't get enough.
Then her hands are moving. One to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair. The other moves down to his chest, and he can't hold back his moan at Marinette's hands on his bare skin, touching him with such clear desire.
She breaks the kiss to gasp for air, and Adrien struggles to catch his breath only for it all to leave him all in a whoosh as her leg presses between his as she climbs on top of him, her bare skin pressed against his, save only for their bathing suits. Then she's kissing him again and pressing him down, and the concrete is cold and the stairs are digging into his back and his neck is strained, and it's not comfortable. It's not comfortable at all and he couldn't care less because she's soft and warm and wanting above him, and this is all he's ever wanted.
His hands are splayed across her warm back, holding her close. He gasps when she releases his mouth to drag her lips along his jaw and down his neck, every touch of lips and tongue and teeth driving him higher and higher. As she works a spot on his neck (will it leave a mark? He can't suppress a too-loud gasp at the idea of her marking him), she reaches behind her for his hand. Only instead of pulling him away, she pushes his hand down until he's palming her ass.
"Marinette," he groans, mustering all his self-control to pull away.
She pulls back to look at him with dazed eyes. "Don't you want to touch me?"
He sits up, and she shifts back, sitting across his lap and doing nothing to help his resolve.
"Desperately," he answers. "Just - maybe we shouldn't be doing this here? In a stairwell where anyone could walk in on us?"
"My romantic kitty," she murmurs affectionately, stroking her thumb over his cheek.
"Yours," he agrees, heart full to bursting.
Her kiss swollen lips spread into a beatific smile. "Okay. I'm not opposed to finding somewhere more...private."
He swallows at the promise in her voice. "You go ahead. I'll catch up."
Her smile turns to a smirk, her eyes flick down and then back to his, and he knows she's caught on to his predicament. "Okay," she agrees, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. She stands. "Don't keep me waiting too long," she sings before turning to head up the stairs.
"Wait." He scrambles up and after her, and she looks back at him with open curiosity. "Just - I love you. I realized I never said it earlier, but I love you. I always have."
Her smile at that is so brilliant, it nearly blinds him.
With her a stair above him, she's almost as tall as he is, so it's easy for her to lean forward and touch her lips to his, soft as silk. This kiss is softer, gentler, more tender than the kisses that came before. This is a kiss that says I love you.
Marinette ends the kiss and skips up the stairs. She stops at the door at the top. "Hurry, my love," she coos with a wink before disappearing through the door.
Adrien watches her go with a lovesick sigh.
She’s perfect. Amazing. Completely irresistible.
He can’t wait to get her somewhere private, where neither of them will have to resist each other anymore.