Work Text:
It started small.
Nino would go to his studio to find that Marinette had sent a bouquet of blue roses with baby’s breath. Or he’d wake up on his day off, and he’d be alone in the bed which was fine because Marinette and Adrien often had to sneak away for the most recent emergency to deal with and Alya would follow them, only when he emerged from the bedroom, Alya had stayed behind to make breakfast. Adrien was the most over the top, as always, going for an interview with Nadia Chamack where he spent the entire time talking up Carapace, but compared to his past romantic gestures, that wasn’t even all that out there.
It escalated quickly.
None of them would talk to him about just how much they were dreading the gala, but he'd seen Adrien and Alya's faces when they'd first gotten the invitation, and based on the way Mari was dragging her feet to make her dress, she wasn't that pleased either.
Of course Nino would go with them.
...except that they were all to be seated at separate tables, and he couldn't go as all of their plus one's.
“So,” Alya asked, absentmindedly picking up a cantaloupe and examining it for bruises. “Do you want Marinette to make you a tux, or do you want to rent one? Because if Marinette’s making you one, you really need to ask her to do that soon.”
Nino looked up from where he’d been checking items off the grocery list, and marking down all of Alya’s deviations from said list. He stopped, partially in the middle of the aisle, but he wasn’t even thinking about it.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
Alya looked up from the melon, putting it down and picking up another to examine. “Aren’t you coming to the Heroes Day Gala with me?”
He blinked a few times and stuffed his hands in his pockets, even though he’d need to start pushing the cart again in just a moment. “I figured... Well, Adrien and Mari want me to go with them too, don’t they?”
Alya finally met his eyes for a moment, her face unreadable as always. “I assumed you were going with me since you always go with me to work events, but... You’re right. You should take time to choose who to go with, since you can’t go with all three of us.”
Nino nodded and took his hands out of his pocket as Alya finally decided on a melon and put it in the cart. They continued on in the store in gentle silence, like they did every Saturday morning.
“I don’t want to leave Mari and Adrien hanging, is all,” he said as they reached the next aisle. “But you obviously want me to go with you, too, and I do usually go with you to these types of things...”
“And you know all my coworkers, which means you’ll probably enjoy my table the most,” she said, still absentmindedly looking through the shelves. “Oh! Should I get dino nuggets?”
“I mean, if you want to. Adrien will probably be thrilled.” He went over her words in his mind. “I don’t want to leave them hanging just because I’d have the most fun with you.”
Alya shrugged. “Yeah, but you shouldn’t be miserable there. You don’t have to go with any of us.”
Nino thought about it.... Ladybug had been invited to the mayor’s table, and Adrien to the table of the charity throwing the gala, who had also helped him navigate all the legal issues when Gabriel had been arrested. Nino knew no one from either of their tables, except maybe Mayor Bourgeois (though that was hardly a draw), but he knew the people at Alya’s work, who had bought the table she’d been invited to.
They reached the end of the aisle, and Nino was hardly aware enough to say, “Oh, yeah, Adrien asked us to pick up bread crumbs.”
“What for?”
“He didn’t say.”
Alya grabbed them anyway, and they turned into the next aisle.
“Yeah,” he said. “I think I’ll go with you.”
And though Nino wasn’t great at reading faces, he knew what Alya’s smile meant when she turned to face him. “Perfect,” she said.
"Yo, LB, whaddya need me for?" Carapace asked as soon as he pulled himself over the edge of the Arc de Triomphe by his sheer strength. She sat on the opposite edge, feet hanging toward the ground, twirling her hair over her shoulder, curling it around her fingers. She'd redone it as a braid instead of her normal pigtails while she was waiting for him.
"Well," she said as he sat down next to her, releasing her hair and entwining her fingers with his, raising their hands between them. "I was hoping to ask you a question."
"If you want to propose, I think all of us should be here. I also think Adrien wanted to be the one to do it, but since we all know that, there's no better way to surprise him, right?"
Ladybug let out a chuckle. "No, I — I actually wanted to talk to just you. I was hoping that maybe... You'd want to be my plus one for the Heroes Day gala?" She raised his hand to her mouth, kissing the knuckles gently.
"Bug..." His face heated and with his free hand, he pulled his hood down, but he didn't pull his hand away from her lips.
"Please," she whispered against his gloved hand. "Nothing would make me happier."
"You know as well as I do that there are two other people who want me to be their plus one, too," he said, finally tearing away from her.
She sighed in frustration, tearing her beautiful eyes from him and looking down at the ground below them. "Yeah, but they can bring a plus one who isn't you. I can only bring another superhero, and of my three superpartners, two of them will be there out of suit!"
"I know," he said, putting his arm around her shoulder. "But you know that Adrien will probably spend a lot of time thinking about Hawk Moth, and someone will have to keep Al from getting in a fight with another journalist, and —"
"If you go with me," Ladybug interrupted, turning her head toward his so he could feel her breath on his cheek, "I'll make you a tux. A Carapace themed tux. And you'll look absolutely dashing in it, I'm sure."
His face heated again. Nino was used to being showered with compliments, and if he melted into a useless puddle every time someone said something flattering he wouldn't make it out the bed each day. But that word — Marinette had figured it out a few years ago, that word absolutely did it for him. As soon as she called him that, he lost functionality in most of his brain, and he could only stutter through a Marinette-re-2015-esque "Al-Alright. But... Alya assumed I would go with her."
"I'll tell her, if you want."
"No," he said. "I should tell her."
Ladybug smiled and reached her arm around his waist, pulling them together until they leaned their heads on each other.
They watched the sunset together.
Adrien next.
He was the only one of them left in school and without a job, though he spent enough time as Chat Noir that he was one of the busiest of them all. Maybe that's why Nino didn't expect he'd be home, making dinner, when he got back from his studio.
“Hey,” Nino said as he walked in, taking off his coat. “Where’s everyone else?”
Adrien was alone at the stove. “Ah, Mari was making herself a dress for the gala after work, and Alya was helping her get her measurements. I told them to head out for dinner after.”
Nino pulled his boots off and walked to the fridge, asking, “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No, go sit down, I have everything covered.”
When he closed the door and walked over to the stove to try to get a good look at things, Adrien shooed him away, chasing him out of the kitchen. Eventually, Nino had no choice but to sit down in the living room, where Plagg was resting on the coffee table.
“Do you know what he’s making me?”
Plagg only shrugged. “I’m sure he mentioned it.”
“Dude, you’re no help at all.”
They sat in silence. Nino didn’t want to turn the TV on in case he missed any sounds coming from the kitchen that could clue him into what was happening, so he just sat there in his own living room scrolling through his phone.
Eventually, the air filled with the scent of tangy sweetness, and Nino really had no choice but to stand up and turn around.
And when he did —
Well, Adrien was standing there like a deer in the headlights, clearly caught off guard. His mouth hung open and his arm dropped slightly from where he’d been raising it to light a candle.
“Hey!” he said. “I didn’t say you could come in yet.”
Nino’s mouth hung open. “I — Dude. Don’t tell me —”
Adrien finished lighting the candle and walked over to the light switch, turning the overhead lights off until the entire area was dim. He smiled and beckoned Nino over.
Which is exactly when Nino saw what he had on the table. A plate of wings, coated in barbeque sauce, several types of dipping sauce around, and onion rings on the side all sat together on the table, looking as good as they smelled.
Nino’s mouth hung open once again. “You didn’t have to do this.”
They sat across from each other, Nino in Marinette’s spot, which felt almost wrong, but.... He couldn’t not sit there, not after everything Adrien did to set this up.
“It’s nothing,” Adrien said. “I just — I know that of all of us, you can sometimes get sidelined. And I wanted to do something special for you.”
Before he could protest, Adrien was putting wings on Nino’s plate. His stomach grumbled right on time, and he met Adrien’s eyes, yellow in the candle light.
“Is this about the gala? Because... I gotta be honest, I already told Mari I’d go with her.”
“I know. She mentioned it to me this morning.”
Nino let out a sigh, partially in relief and partially in guilt. They hadn’t all had a discussion about it together, which was unusual, to say the least, and he had really jumped the gun on making the decision — twice now.
When he met Adrien’s eyes again, though, they were twinkling, slanted at the bottom edge in a smile. “Come on. Let’s eat.”
Nino grabbed a wing and ripped into it, the meat perfectly tender, the skin crispy but not chewy. This, Nino thought, was the biggest benefit of having all four of them living in the house together — between Adrien’s world class cooking (courtesy of Tom and Marlena both) and Marinette’s tailoring and sewing, even basic amenities were superb.
“How was work?” Adrien asked, tearing into one of the wings himself. “Anything eventful?”
Nino only shrugged, taking a bite of the onion ring. This, too, was perfectly cooked — he had his own secret recipe for batter that he would never share with anyone else, not even his partners.
“It was grueling, as always,” Nino answered, still chewing slightly. “My feet hurt, to be honest.”
“You deserve a better position than runner,” Adrien said.
“I’m not sure anyone deserves anything in the film industry, but it’d be nice.”
“Don’t talk yourself down like that. You deserve more than you get.”
Nino only shrugged. “I think someone in this relationship needs to keep us humble, and if it’s gonna be anyone then it’s gonna be me.” He took another bite of onion ring then asked, “What about your day?”
“Not much happened,” Adrien responded. “I’m thirsty. Oh!” He quickly stood up, walking back into the kitchen, and grabbed a bottle from the fridge, then over to a counter, grabbing something else off of it — a tray, evidently.
The tray had a bucket of ice for the champagne, two wine flutes, and a few strawberries cut into slices. Nino only grinned at seeing it, admiring Adrien’s golden hair flickering like the firelight as he added a few slices to both of the flutes and poured the glasses, waiting for the foam to dissolve so he could get them both full.
Nino grabbed his, waiting for Adrien to make a cheesy speech. Sure enough, he gestured for them both to raise their glasses.
“To Nino,” he said. “Not Carapace. Nino, who you are now. I... I can’t believe how long we’ve known each other. I love you, I really do. And you deserve so much more than you are ever given.”
Nino was glad that his skin tone was dark enough to prevent his face from going as red as Marinette’s, because he knew it would. He had to force his lips from breaking out into a big, cheesy grin, and even then he couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact, just kept looking at the glasses as they tapped them together with a nice clink!
Nino took a drink — and though he never had much of a sweet tooth, he thought that he’d never had something so softly sweet as that champagne.
When they were done with dessert, Adrien pulled him away from the table with the kiss, and they ended up in the living room on the couch together, Adrien nearly crawling on top of Nino, both of them hardly able to get a breath of fresh air.
They hadn’t been alone together, just the two of them, in too long. All four of them loved each other, obviously, but sometimes it was easy to forget how powerful just two of them together could be.
Nino pushed Adrien’s shoulders up, effectively separating their faces. “You sure this isn’t about the gala?” he asked.
Adrien sat up, allowing Nino to put his feet on the floor, and shrugged. “I don’t want to take this away from Mari, you know. That’s not the goal. But if you’re going to a Heroes Day gala, I want you to be there for how amazing you are, not Carapace, okay?”
Nino sighed. Part of him knew that it was all flattery, but was that not what Marinette had done, too? And Alya had enticed him with comfort, familiarity...
“Besides,” Adrien said. “You know that if you go with Marinette, you’ll be on the dance floor all night, and your feet are always killing you.”
When Nino met his eyes, he was smiling, meaning that part was at least partially a joke — partially. Probably not fully.
Though there was sense to it...
“And if you go alone,” Nino said, “you’re gonna end up getting cornered all night by whatever politician or foundation wants your seal of approval for whatever they’re doing,” he said, mostly to himself, thinking out loud.
“Hey, this should be about you. Do whatever’s best for you, okay? I know that I’m not the only one asking for your attention.”
Nino sighed and dropped his head, then looked back over at Adrien, leaning in slightly for a kiss. “I should go with you, though. It makes the most sense.”
Adrien smiled slightly and leaned in, closing the gap between them. “That sounds like a date, darling.”
The next day, Nino got out of the apartment before anyone could corner him. He didn’t really know where he was going, so he just ended up walking...
...straight to the Grand Paris hotel.
Their apartment was near the hotel, so it shouldn’t have been much of a surprise, but he still didn’t know what he was doing standing outside the doors of the restaurant, looking in. This would be where the gala is hosted; he could even see them setting up with nice chairs and tables inside.
Should he even go? He didn’t have to. Loud parties were exhausting at best, and everyone else would be exhausted too, so he could be the one to make breakfast in the morning if he didn’t go, right?
Well. Maybe not make breakfast. He’d been banned from every appliance except the microwave. But he could go out and grab them bagels, or...
“Nino Lahiffe?”
He quickly turned his head to see none other than Chloé Bourgeois walking up behind him, an iced coffee in hand and a bag around her elbow. She stepped up to where he was standing in the shade and put her sunglasses up.
“Chloé? What’re you doing here?” Just as she was about to answer, he interrupted, “Dumb question. How are you?”
Chloé worked at the charity throwing the gala as the event coordinator — she was probably the one planning the entire thing. Not to mention that last he’d heard, she was still living in one of the hotel suites.
“Oh, you know,” she said. “Fighting with caterers and florists most days. How about you? How’s Adrikins?”
“He’s good. Dreading the gala.”
“For all the work I did to make it happen, he better be dreading it.”
They stood together, side-by-side for a moment. Nino looked down at Chloé — she’d definitely gotten better since school. Her hair was short, now — a sort of ear-length business cut, angular and styled well, but with an undercut.
“Are you coming with Adrien?” she asked, still examining the work inside.
“I’m still deciding who I’m coming with,” he answered. “Hey, you aren’t sitting at the table with your pops, are you?”
“Looking for someone to keep a Miss Ladybug entertained?” she said, finally looking up at him and waggling her eyebrows enough that his face heated. “But no. I’ll be running around, keeping everything running smooth — why?”
“All three of ‘em are asking me to be their plus one. I have no idea who to choose.”
“I’m surprised you’re going at all. You never seemed like the gala type of person.”
He shrugged. “Really, I’m not. Too many forks and small talk’s not really my speed. But I couldn’t not go with any of them.”
“Could you go for something else?” Chloé asked.
“What?”
“Say something else important cropped up that you had to do. Would you do that instead of going with one of them?”
Nino looked down at her and furrowed his eyebrows. “I guess, maybe?”
“Alright,” Chloé said, looking down at her phone, very business-like. “Get ready day-of with your tux. Oh my God, are they putting up a balloon arch?” she asked, peering into the glass doors. “Absolutely not, this is ridiculous. I have to go but I’ll see you at the gala!”
Before Nino could figure out why Chloé wanted him in a tux, she was off, and he was left speechless on the sidewalk.
Nino smiled awkwardly as Marinette tied his bowtie. She was short enough, and focused enough on what she was doing, that he didn’t have to make eye contact, at least.
“You look dashing,” she said with a smile.
"Careful using that word too much," he said, trying to ignore the tip of her finger tracing along his neck. "If you use it too much, it'll wear off."
"Whatever you say, Dashing."
He managed to maintain eye contact with her until she turned away, at which point he had to lean on a nearby table while he caught his breath.
"You'll have to be there at about seven-thirty," she said. "I'll get there early to deal with the press, alright?"
He nodded, his lungs finally full enough for him to stand by the time she turned back.
"Alright. I'm gonna go get ready with Alya."
She left the "office" (it was really more of a multi-purpose room for the four of them, with a mannequin, a craft table, an art easel, and one desk — Alya's — in the corner), leaving Nino alone.
He looked at himself in the mirror.
It was such a nice tuxedo. She hadn't built it from scratch — well, not for the gala; she'd taken another tux that she had built from scratch and vamped it up slightly, adding green patches at the shoulders and elbows and some delicate painted-turtle embroidery at the collar and cuffs.
He couldn't wear it if he went with Alya or Adrien. Not if he wanted to wear it as Carapace in the future.
When he heard a knock on the door, he quickly pulled the jacket off and rolled it into a ball, followed by a panicked, "Come in!"
Alya walked in, wearing her stunning fitted dress made of what looked like liquid bronze. She cocked an eyebrow.
"Already getting ready?" she asked.
"I was just... trying it on. In case Mari needed to make any last-minute alterations."
She nodded. "Well, it fits like a glove, I'm sure. She keeps track of all of our measurements, so she would know if something would need to change. How she does it, I couldn't say." As she stepped up, her eyebrows furrowed. "Are you wearing the green waistcoat, though?"
He shook his head. "It was, uh, with the rest of the tux, where Marinette had stored it, so I grabbed it without thinking."
Alya nodded and stepped all the way up to him, lifting herself up — on her toes, he knew instinctively — to plant a kiss on his lips.
"It'll be a good night, alright? You're just there as eye candy, remember. I gotta go help Marinette get her makeup done, but we'll leave around seven, alright?"
He nodded because he couldn't bear to choke out a word while she left.
Marinette and Alya got ready together in the boutique on the first floor, leaving Adrien and Nino in the apartment itself.
Adrien wore a classic tuxedo without too much embellishment, though Marinette had guaranteed that it was nothing less than that finest craftsmanship. His skin was a bit patchier than it had been in years past, but closer to himself — Gabriel was no longer in charge of his image for these events.
"You look good," Nino said.
"Not as good as you," Adrien responded, stepping up and fixing some fold or something Nino hadn't noticed on his own collar. "Mari might have to replace me as the model on the boutique's website."
Nino's face heated. Why?! he thought to himself. Why was he trapped in this purgatory of not being able to take a compliment?
"What time do you want to head there?" Adrien asked. "The main event starts at eight, but I don't want to be too late — people will start showing up around seven."
"Uh, whenever you want." Chloé had seemed confident in her ability to get Nino out of his obligations, and Marinette already planned to leave before him, but he didn't know how to go with either Adrien or Alya without tipping off the other to his lie.
"Why don't we leave right around seven, then?" Adrien asked with a smile.
Which was the same time Alya was going.
Actually...
"Why don't we just go with Al?" Nino asked.
"Oh, yeah, why wouldn't we! That's an awesome idea."
Nino released a bit of a sigh of relief — one less thing to worry about.
Hours ticked by, each minute bringing its own worry for Nino. But somehow, none of them found out. Alya and Marinette got ready together on their own, spending more time than he would ever understand on their hair and makeup; Adrien mostly floated around happily; and Chloé did not answer her texts.
It got to 6:45, and Adrien and Nino were finally invited down to the boutique to see their girlfriends.
Alya wore a skintight orange mermaid dress with sequins adorning the top, bold and beautiful and every bit her. Marinette wore a red ball gown-ish dress — it had a big skirt, anyway — decorated all around with black lace. No one had seen her mask before now, but they knew she'd hand-painted it, and it was absolutely spectacular, the entire red background covered in the smallest black swirls and glitter.
"You two look... beautiful," Adrien said.
Marinette's face went red and she looked at the ground; Alya put her arm around her shoulder and struck a pose.
By the time Alya relaxed, though, the three of them were all looking at Nino, but he could only keep sweeping his eyes over them in utter awe.
"Uh, dude?" Adrien said. "You're gonna invite a fly in." He gently raised his hand and closed Nino's jaw for him, and only then did Nino realize he'd had his mouth open.
"Oh, uh.... oops. Anyway, uh, you two look really, really... uh, well, good."
The word he wanted to use was "hot" but he didn't know if it would be appropriate to say as much, so he grabbed the nearest alternative.
Adrien laughed. "They look the goodest, don't they?"
"Hey, being good with words is my thing," Alya added, and Nino's face heated further.
Adrien walked over and began examining the dresses in closer detail, then giving a kiss to both Marinette and Alya.
"We'll see each other at the after party, right?" Adrien said.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Alya added.
"I'll head out now," Marinette said, picking up her skirt. "Tikki, spots on!"
She was quickly in her supersuit, which wasn't quite as spectacular but just as much her.
With a kiss to all three of them, she was out of the door.
"We have a few minutes," Alya said. "We should probably grab a snack."
"Marinette should have too," Adrien added.
"We can send Nino over while he has nothing else to do to make sure she eats something," Alya said as they walked back upstairs, to which Adrien agreed.
How he had avoided disaster up to this point, he didn't know.
He didn't put on his jacket — or his waistcoat — for the entire ride, citing the sensory issues. (He didn't actually have any, but the excuse got the job done.) He hung back in the car after Adrien and Alya left to "get dressed," but he actually texted Chloé in a panic.
They're about to find out I lied what do I do, he asked.
Are they inside? she asked immediately.
I don't know. They might be standing outside waiting for me.
Alright. Hold tight.
Chloé walked out of the building and held her phone to her ear even though no one was on the other side.
"What do you mean you're canceling last minute? Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!" she said louder than she needed to.
Adrien and Alya were waiting near the entrance, well within earshot.
"I don't care what the contract says — for how much I'm paying you, you have to — What? No!"
She dramatically threw her phone away and huffed.
"Chloé?" Adrien asked from the sidelines. "Everything okay?"
"Well, I'm down a sound technician, so not really," she answered.
"Oh? Did they quit?"
"Yes. I don't know why I even bother."
In fact, she'd laid the technician off earlier that day with a generous bonus. Of course, Adrien and Alya couldn't know that, nor could Ladybug, who'd already been spotted inside.
"I mean, if you need a hand, then Nino could probably step in for a bit..." Alya offered.
"Oh?" Chloé asked. "I haven't seen him."
"He's still in the car," Adrien said. "But I'm sure he'd be happy to help out."
"Perfect, go get him — he needs to be caught up ASAP."
Alya and Adrien shared a look, but ultimately walked back out together with just a shrug from Adrien.
Chloé smiled.
Chloé lingered behind him as Nino got acquainted with the sound mixing booth.
"Thanks for doing this, Chlo," he said. He felt less anxious being up here — it was no different from any emceeing gig. Easier, really, since there was a string quartet playing music for a solid chunk of the night, so he mostly needed to pay attention when people had to speak with microphones.
"Don't thank me. This is a job. Nothing more, nothing less."
When he looked over his shoulder and made eye contact, though, she smiled.
"Now," she said, clearing her throat and turning her face neutral, "get to work."
Nino had to stay the longest of any of them, so by the time Carapace got to the top of the Eiffel Tower, they were already eating McDonald's and laughing while clinging to each other's shoulders.
They didn't notice him lingering in the background at first. He leaned on the tallest spire of the tower and took them in, sitting together, enjoying the night now that they were free from the Heroes' Day Gala.
He loved them so much, and they'd proven that they all loved him, too, so many times over.
When he finally stepped up and joined them, they immediately parted for him and shoved a ten piece chicken nuggets in his hands.
"You're here!" Ladybug cheered. "We missed you. It wasn't the same without you."
"I'm not dead," he answered, then took a bite of chicken nugget. He wasn't dead, but he was starving.
Before he could chew and swallow, though, Ladybug received a call on her bug phone. All four of them made confused noises, but quieted as she answered on speaker phone.
"Hello?" she asked.
"Marinette! Where are you?"
That voice —
"Chloé?" Chat asked.
"No, Queen Elizabeth II," she answered. "Yes Chloé. Where are you?"
"How did you call this phone?"
"How do I do anything with all the dumb questions I get? You can't even answer a basic one. Where are you?"
"On top of the Eiffel Tower," Chat answered.
"Perfect. I'll be right below you in fifteen minutes, have my Miraculous ready."
And then she hung up.
The white eyebrows on Rena's mask were furrowed deeply, visible even in the dark night. "What does she want?"
"How did she even call the bug phone?" Ladybug asked. "That shouldn't be possible."
"Err, I think we should just listen to her," Nino said, and all looked at him.
"...why?" Chat asked.
"Well, I — I just think it would be nice."
Ladybug's eyebrows furrowed, but she stood and unhooked her yoyo from her hips. "Bug out, I guess," she said, and then she was flying toward the ground.
Chat and Rena, on either side of Nino, looked at him expectantly, and once again he felt his face heat.
He owed Chloé this much, he knew, but he couldn't explain why without giving away his secret.
So he ate another chicken nugget. He was still starving, anyway.
Rena started on about an interaction she'd had with one of the gala's wealthy sponsors, who she described as "a mummified physical embodiment of the ghost of capitalism past," but she still got his business card because "networking is networking."
Before she'd even finished, though, Ladybug and Queen Bee joined them at the top of the Eiffel Tower.
Chloé's suit had changed, though she was still recognizably herself. Instead of the same angular business cut she'd worn all night, her hair was completely buzzed around the sides and pulled up into a small bun. The stripes over her suit were no longer so angular and jagged, but soft and flowy.
Her face was pulled into a smirk, not a scowl.
Carapace stood to greet her, offering her a hug because he didn't know what else to do.
When he let go, her eyebrows were furrowed in confusion.
"So," she said, quite loudly, "have they figured out that you lied yet?"
"Chlo — Queen Bee!" he exclaimed.
"Lied?" Ladybug asked.
He turned toward the other three, who now all curiously looked at him.
"I — uh, well —"
"Nino didn't know how to say no to any of you," she said. "So he agreed to go with all of you to the gala, which wasn't possible, so I stepped in and saved him."
Their mouths all hung open, until finally, Ladybug stopped up and laid her hands on his shoulders, looking up at him.
"You said yes to all of us?" she asked, her eyebrows deeply furrowed.
He loosed a breath. "Yes," he said. "I did."
She somehow smiled and pouted at the same time. "That's so sweet," she said, lifting a hand to his face and cupping his cheek.
"I just... didn't wanna disappoint."
"You can never disappoint us," Chat said.
"Next time just tell us," Rena added. "But it is very cute that you couldn't make a decision."
Carapace's face heated and he attempted to make like a turtle and bury his head into his hood, but Ladybug made sure he kept his chin up.
"Thank you for helping him out, Chlo," Chat said.
"Whatever. He was a better sound technician than anyone I could have hired, anyway."
"We have an extra Big Mac," Rena said. "Wanna have one?"
"Of course," Queen Bee answered, walking up to all of them. "I'm surprised it took you so long to offer."