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So this was a bit of a predicament.
Alya and Nino were standing in Marinette’s bedroom, gaping at her as she blushed cherry-red and tried desperately to think of a good excuse for why Adrien was in her bed, and – ahem – shirtless to boot. But she had nothing.
“Hi, Alya,” Adrien said weakly.
Marinette was mortified. She let out a tiny squeak of terror, and in one big swoop, yanked the covers over her head and Adrien’s, hiding them at least momentarily.
How did she end up here?
Well, logically speaking, it started with last night’s akuma battle. That poor kid, who was probably about eight years old, had his “pet” plant smashed while he played with his friends in the street outside his house, and proceeded to turn into a large angry Venus flytrap as a result. Marinette had never fought anything like that before.
And the thing was strong. It threw her around like a ragdoll as she tried to get the terra cotta pot that housed the akuma off its head.
That’s when Chat Noir jumped in, like always.
“Leaf it to me, my lady,” he had winked at her.
He leapt at the plant-boy, and immediately a tendril of vine wrapped around his ankle. Chat Noir went whipping through the air, and slammed into the asphalt street with a sickening crack that made Marinette wince under her Ladybug mask.
“Adrien!” she cried, instinctually using his real name, glad that the melee of the akuma attack was drowning out all other noise.
Her crime-fighting partner slash love of her high school life was lying in a long trench of plowed-up asphalt. But he sat up blearily as she came closer. Oh, God, yes. Not dead.
“Bugaboo, I might have to sit this one out,” he said, one black leather cat ear crumpled, “I’m not feline so good.”
Only he would make puns at a time like this.
It was child’s play to defeat the akumatized kid when she was all hopped up on rage. She hadn’t been that angry since the time Chat had sacrificed himself for her during the fight with Chronogirl. And once the plant pot was smashed and the akuma was purified and the city was peaceful again, Marinette was right back at Chat’s side.
“Are you alright?” she asked.
He had been sitting gingerly on the ground since as she fought, but now that her Miraculous had turned everything right again, he looked better.
Better, except for a big scraped-off patch of leather on the back of his catsuit. The exposed skin was burning red with road-rash. Marinette reached out and touched the torn fabric with one gloved finger.
“Does this hurt?”
“Does what hurt?”
Chat was confused, until he tried to stand up, and then his face tinged over with pain.
Marinette sighed, “I’m sure once Plagg recharges, the suit will be fine, but since my Miraculous didn’t heal you, you need first aid.”
“What, do you want me to go to the ER? I’m supposed be asleep right now, I can’t exactly pretend I got hurt skateboarding,” he grumbled, groping at the wound.
That was true. It was late, but he needed medical attention. Or at least a hot shower and a thorough coat of antibiotic ointment.
“I have an idea,” said Marinette finally, “Go somewhere and de-transform, and meet me back here.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he saluted her, and slunk off.
When they reconvened out of costume, Marinette was struck, not for the first or second or even millionth time, how pretty Adrien was. Even now, uncomfortable and hurt, his big green Disney Princess eyes were boring into her and his stupid fluffy blond hair was bouncing in a way that mesmerized her.
“The plan?” he asked, jolting her out of her thoughts.
“Oh, right. Follow me,” Marinette said.
She led him down twisting streets and through the big park in the center of the city, right past the coppery statue of the two of them. Ladybug and Chat Noir, immortalized in sculpture. It was pretty ridiculous, seeing her own face like that.
Adrien spoke up again, “Where are we going?”
“Don’t you trust me?” she teased.
“More than anyone,” he said immediately, tone serious and earnest.
Marinette swore she could feel her heart melting as she replied, “Good.”
“So where are we going?”
She stopped short outside her own front door and answered, “My house.”
The spare key was still in her pants pocket, so she unlocked the door as quietly as possible and pushed it open.
“Something tells me your parents aren’t going to be thrilled if they find us sneaking in like this,” he said.
“If we don’t wake them up, it won’t be an issue, will it?” Marinette whispered, beckoning him inside after her.
Sneaking up to her room well past midnight was exciting, but bringing Adrien up to her room past midnight was euphoric. Something in her wanted to squeal with delight at the prospect. And once they made it up to her attic bedroom, he flopped down on her chaise lounge like he had done it a hundred times.
“Let me see your back,” she said, once she had turned on the lights and settled Tikki down with a package of cookies.
Adrien obediently sat up and tugged his t-shirt over his head in one fluid motion. Marinette was sure that her jaw was actually hanging open, and she was glad that he had turned around and wasn’t witnessing her lack of composure. They were still best friends, after all.
Inseparable, actually, now that they each knew the other’s secret. It took a matter of months for first Adrien, then Marinette to figure out that there was no way two people in Paris could look as exactly identical and Ladybug and Marinette did, and Chat Noir and Adrien. And once they knew, there was a world’s worth of pressure lifted off their shoulders. They knew everything. They could be completely themselves with each other, both in costume and out. Of course, for the sake of their secret identities, not another soul knew.
At school, Marinette still stuttered and blushed around Adrien (and it wasn’t an act, most of the time), and when they fought crime together, she still rebuffed Chat Noir and groaned at his awful puns (which really were awful no matter how she spun it).
But as she wiped a damp washcloth down Adrien’s poor torn-up back, watching the muscles ripple under her hands as he twitched in pain, Marinette realized that there was still a little confusion hanging between them.
Everyone on Earth knew that Adrien and Chat Noir alike had a crush on Ladybug. But as far as Marinette knew, he had never admitted to liking her as Marinette. Even worse, she knew for a fact that Adrien had no idea that she was in love with him.
“Hey, everything alright?” Adrien asked, turning around to face her.
She had been scrubbing the washcloth over the same patch of skin for about a minute solid while she realized their complete and utter lack of communication.
“Yeah, it’s fine. The cut isn’t deep, but it’ll itch like crazy for a couple days while it heals,” she said.
He nodded, and leaned down to grab his shirt from where he had placed it on the floor.
Before she could stop herself, Marinette blurted out, “No!”
Oh, no.
Adrien cocked an eyebrow, “What? I can’t get dressed to go home? It’s cold out!”
“Um…you should probably leave the wound uncovered, air it out,” she said, “You can leave your shirt there.”
“I’m not pawsitive,” he smirked, “But I think you just told me that my shirt looks better on your floor.”
Marinette wondered if a person could actually die from embarrassment.
Adrien laughed, “Be careful, Mari, people will think that you have a crush on me.”
Nope, Marinette KNEW that a person could die from embarrassment, because she was sure she had just done it. Adrien, for his part, kept laughing until he met her eyes. She was wearing a guilty, frozen smile, she knew that much.
“You can put the shirt on if you want to, jeez,” Marinette said, forcing a little of her Ladybug sass into her voice just to keep calm.
But Adrien just stared at her, Rapunzel eyes twinkling as he said, “You have a crush on me.”
“Go home, Chat.”
“No, I don’t want to.”
Marinette stomped her foot in frustration, “This is my house!”
“Yeah, and I’m comfortable here,” Adrien said, grinning his Chat Noir grin, “In fact…”
Before Marinette could physically haul him out of the room and throw him out a window, Adrien rolled lithely from the chaise and made a mad dash for Marinette’s bed. He dove under the rumpled covers, and there he stayed, peeking up at her. Adrien was in her bed.
“Chat!” she squeaked, because this was not her shy, kind crush Adrien.
This was her irritating, pun-slinging, never-there-when-she-needed-him partner Chat Noir. But, she couldn’t deny it, it was also Adrien. In her bed.
“Come cuddle me,” he whined.
What?! Had she actually been the one who face-planted onto the concrete and was now hallucinating some kind of horrible, wonderful fantasy world where Adrien Agreste, actual human perfection Adrien Agreste, wanted to cuddle with her?
“You’re making me stay, the least you can do is let me be comfortable,” he added, the Chat Noir back in his voice.
Marinette marched over to her bed, fully intending to transform into Ladybug and drag him from her room, if for no other reason than to regain some semblance of control over the situation. But of course, that didn’t happen.
What did happen was Adrien reaching out and grabbing her arm, and yanking her onto the bed.
What did happen was Adrien lifting the covers and tucking her under them.
What did happen was Adrien turning Marinette ever so gently until her back was pressed up against his front, and looping his arm around her waist, holding her close.
She was spooning with Adrien Agreste.
The shock over what had just occurred was too much for Marinette, so she just lay there, letting Adrien snuggle up against her. It wasn’t that she was uncomfortable, or unhappy, because sweet Jesus Christ in heaven, she was cuddling in her bed with the boy that she loved. And it was all his idea. So she just squeezed her eyes shut and hoped with everything she had that this wasn’t just the result of some traumatic head injury.
“Do you ever get the feeling that if you weren’t Ladybug, you would be terrified to even cross the street?” Adrien asked her quietly, breath tickling her ear.
She considered that. She knew what he meant. Ladybug was every strength that regular Marinette wasn’t good at having.
“Yeah.”
“Well, right now I’m Chat Noir, because if I was Adrien, I wouldn’t have the courage to be here with you,” he said, matter-of-factly.
He voice was so quiet, she wasn’t even sure he could hear when she replied, “I’m glad you are.”
“Me too.”
Marinette was surprised to hear him answer.
“Mari, I don’t know if you know this, but this entire secret identity reveal has been really hard for me,” he continued.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
Adrien laughed softly, “I always knew that I loved Ladybug. But it took me forever realize that everything I loved about Ladybug was something I loved about you.”
“Oh,” she said, emotions bubbling.
“I had no idea you liked me,” he said, “You turned me down as Chat Noir so many times…I didn’t think it would be any different if…if I tried as Adrien.”
That feeling of courage he had mentioned before, that difference that came with being Ladybug was coursing through Marinette as she rolled over to face Adrien. They were so close, their noses were almost touching.
“I’ve always loved you as Adrien,” she whispered.
To say that Adrien’s face went through a rainbow of emotions was an understatement. Marinette saw every feeling there was flash over those beautiful features, from obvious surprise to the tiniest pang of fear to the biggest smile that Marinette had seen in her life.
“You know what, my lady? I think I love Marinette, too.”
And her first kiss with Adrien was in her own bed, cuddling together, his arms wrapped around her like there was nobody else in the world.
That is, until the next morning. When Alya and Nino showed up. And stood there staring at them like a museum exhibit on idiot lovebirds who couldn’t even hide a whirlwind romance properly.
Marinette clutched her sheets desperately as Alya yanked them off, uncovering her and Adrien.
“Girl, you have some explaining to do!” Alya said, eyes full of mirth.
Marinette leapt out of bed, desperate to do anything to get her nosy best friend to leave them alone and end this most embarrassing twenty four hours of her life.
“No no no! Um, you see…well…we...” Marinette was stuttering, glancing back at Adrien for help.
Adrien was lounging back on Marinette’s headboard, arms folded under his head, having some kind of silent communication with Nino that Marinette didn’t even want to comprehend. Casual as anything, he looked at Alya, and let that Chat Noir smile spread over his face.
“Okay, Alya, you caught us.”
Alya stared at him, “What?!”
“You caught us. We’ve been hooking up for months in secret,” he said, looking dramatically at Marinette, who was horror-struck.
“Oh my God,” Alya was glancing back and forth between Marinette and Adrien like she was watching a tennis match.
“You were bound to find out sooner or later,” Adrien sighed.
“This is incredible,” Alya said, and then rounded on Marinette, “How could you keep this a secret from me?!”
“I’m sorry!” she apologized.
And then she saw what Adrien was doing. Alya didn’t have to know any real details of their Ladybug and Chat Noir secrets. But the opportunity was too good to waste.
“But I have to admit,” Marinette continued quickly, as Alya’s eyes grew round with anticipation, “He’s a really great partner.”
The shriek that Alya let out was probably some kind of homing signal for dolphins, and it made Nino yank his headphones over his ears and yell at her to stop. Marinette and Adrien shared a secret smile over the chaos.
Totally worth it.