Work Text:
Marinette stumbled into her mathematics class five minutes after the bell rang.
The teacher, Mrs. Steeles, had her back to the class, scribbling down what Marinette assumed to be the math homework questions from last night on the whiteboard.
Marinette tried to sneak past Mrs. Steeles, heading towards her seat in the back, where Damian was already sitting and watching her with exasperation.
She kept her footsteps light, barely making any sound, but somehow, the mathematics teacher seemed to have eyes on the back of her head.
“Miss Dupain-Cheng, I wonder why you are late this time.” Mrs. Steeles said dryly, capping her marker before facing the late student.
Marinette looked like a deer caught in headlights as she whirled to face the front, the stares she was getting from her classmates making her skin prickle. “Uh, I—”
Mrs. Steeles pinned her with a look of disapproval, waving her off. “Just head to your seat.”
Marinette wasted no time rushing to her seat, setting her bag beside her desk.
Damian leaned over and spoke in a hushed tone. “Tt. Why were you late?”
She didn’t respond until Mrs. Steeles turned her focus back to the whiteboard, the blue dry-erase marker in her hand uncapped once more.
“Akuma in Paris. I had to voyage,” Marinette whispered just low enough for him to hear.
He nodded in understanding. “Did you do the math homework from yesterday?”
Her eyes widened, a look of horror taking over her face. “Oh no—”
“Miss Dupain-Cheng, do you have the homework from yesterday?” Mrs. Steeles asked, shattering Marinette’s hope that the mathematics teacher would forget.
What was the point of being the embodiment of luck when the luck didn’t manifest when she needed it?
Marinette swallowed, glancing to Damian for help, who heartlessly shrugged as if saying, ‘You’re on your own.’
“Well?” Mrs. Steeles prompted with a raised brow, giving her foot impatient taps.
Marinette panicked and blurted out the first excuse that came to mind. “My homework got torn up in a game of tug of war.”
Her classmates burst out laughing, and she played with the hem of the black skirt of her uniform.
“Really, Dupain-Cheng? Tug of war? You could not have come up with something better using that scattered brain of yours?” Damian hissed out, speaking over the loud peals of laughter from their classmates, looking unimpressed.
“I was under pressure, and I panicked!” she whispered back, a sheepish expression on her face.
“And just, who were you playing tug of war with?” Mrs. Steeles asked, looking just as unimpressed as Damian.
The gears in Marinette’s head turned as she struggled to think of a somewhat half-dignified response. “Damian’s pets! I was, um— we were doing homework together at his house, and I left my homework on the floor by accident. Titus— uh, Damian’s dog and Alfred— um, cat got ahold of it…”
She could feel Damian staring daggers at her, but he hadn’t exposed her to the lie, so she took it as a win.
“Who won? The dog or the cat?” someone called out, sounding invested in the non-existent war that had taken place between Damian’s hoard of animals.
Of course, Marinette, the queen of inventing excuses when it calls for protecting her secret identity, found it within reason to respond with something even more absurd.
“Well, uh— technically neither? Mojo- um, the ape! The ape hijacked my homework from Ti— the dog, which tore it in half. Then Goliath— the dragon bat breathed fire, and because my homework was caught in the crossfire, it disintegrated into ashes.”
The students were fascinated by the narrative and amused with her ability to spin such a tale on the spot. They spoke over one another, voicing their thoughts.
“Dragon bat? What new species is that?”
“I didn’t know Damian Wayne had an ape as a pet!”
“What happens next? Who ate the ashes?”
Meanwhile, Damian glared at her for exposing his supernatural pet. “You do realize Goliath is supposed to be kept a secret? How am I supposed to explain a dragon bat somehow ending up in my possession?”
Marinette winced, looking apologetic. “Sorry, Dami. In my defense, this wouldn’t have happened had you helped me think of a plausible excuse! Whatever happened to cover for one another?”
“I can’t believe you are blaming this on me,” he said in disbelief, crossing his arms and turning away from her with a hmph.
“Class, settle down, please.” Mrs. Steeles said, looking tired. She shot Marinette the stink eye, looking unmoved by her dramatic tale of a showdown between Damian’s pets fighting over her homework.
“Do keep disputes between pets away from your homework in the future, Miss Dupain-Cheng. I think this joke of yours, rather unique as it may be, has entertained the class enough, and it is time to return to the lesson.”
Mrs. Steeles directed one last stern look at Marinette, then turned to write more questions on the whiteboard.
Marinette at least had the decency to mutter a “Sorry” to Damian.
His lips twitched like he might smile, but he kept the act of staying mad with her. His arms still crossed, and his body angled a little away from her.
To Marinette, it seemed like he was pouting, and that caused her to giggle. Because Damian would deny and insist he doesn’t pout.
The sound softened his demeanour at once, prompting her to smile in victory.
“Whatever. You better not expose even more of my pets— supernatural species or not— to these imbeciles next time,” he grumbled, trying and failing to glare at her.
“Of course~ we wouldn’t want people to think the Ice Prince of Gotham is secretly a softie, would we now?” she teased, smiling the bright smile she knew he melted for.
She could see the tips of his ears flush pink even as he turned from her to face the front.
“Tt,” was his only response, seeming unaware she could see him sneaking glances at her through her peripheral vision.
She found his behaviour adorable.