Chapter Text
Luka didn't consider himself particularly stupid, but he probably could've caught on earlier to what was going on. In his (weak) defense, Marinette had always been generous with her gifts.
Their friend group wasn't very large: it was him, Marinette, his sister Juleka, Ivan, and Rose. It was also common for them to give each other gifts even if it wasn't their birthday, just to show they cared.
Ivan, for example, gave him a CD one day. It was from a band he didn't recognize, but he was always open to hearing something new. Ivan had that exact thought, knowing he probably hadn't heard it but figuring he might like it. Luka appreciated it.
Then, only a couple days later, Marinette brought him a set of CDs, all from relatively new bands who'd yet to make a name for themselves. Perhaps that should've been suspicious to him, but they'd initially bonded over music in the first place and she was the designer for his band.
Still, he couldn't help commenting, "You didn't have to spend this much on me, Marinette."
"Oh, this?" She shook her head. "This is nothing! I had extra money from some commissions I did!"
There wasn't any sign of a lie. He smiled, thinking how it would be rude to reject the gift in that case. "Okay. Thanks for thinking about me."
She beamed with pride, and something else he couldn't quite place.
The next gift was from Rose. She'd called his name in a sing-song voice and presented him with a thick, fluffy scarf. It was going to get cold soon and the insulation of the houseboat was only so-so.
She didn't hesitate to point out the absurd length either, which Luka had noticed but thought it polite not to comment on. Pointing at it from end to end when he held it stretched out, she didn't bother hiding the fact that it could be used as a "scarf for two."
Gently, he'd reminded her that he and Marinette were not together, nor was he interested in any sort of scheming to make it so. He was perfectly happy being friends and didn't want to push anything on her that she might not want.
It was that same train of logic making him believe that Marinette giving him a handmade scarf, less than a week later, was probably a coincidence.
Probably.
Juleka made plushies of the five of them during art club: soft, carefully stitched together, and absurdly cute. She handed each friend's matching plush when they were all together and blushed when Rose insisted they trade because she wanted the Juleka plush. Luka, meanwhile, placed his atop the speaker next to his bed, impressed when it sat upright all by itself.
It felt like no time at all before Marinette brought along her own handmade plush to show him: himself in his Kitty Section costume.
"It's merchandise!" she explained excitedly, flipping the mask a few times and wiggling the guitar to show that they weren't stuck on the plush itself. "It's just a prototype, but I wanted you to have the first."
Using him as the prototype made sense. He was the oldest, even if only minutes older than his sister, and there was an unspoken agreement that he was the "leader." Decisions about the band tended to go through him as the final, most important voice, and he often spoke for all of them when in public.
The thing that tipped him off, however, was that Marinette was thorough. He would've expected her to drop a full set in front of him, a plan for how to market them, and a sketch of what the best place to sell them would be whenever they played somewhere, just for good measure.
Of course, he wasn't going to say any of that out loud and he loved it anyway, but something felt strange.
"...Marinette," Luka said patiently.
She was all smiles and innocence, practically hopping in place as she held out the tiny jewelry box to him. "I just thought it'd be nice to have another set of earrings to wear!"
That sounded fine enough on its own. He supposed it'd be boring to play the same song over and over again, but this was her first attempt at making jewelry and she was giving it to him. There was something so obviously special about that, yet she was playing it off casually.
Taking the box and looking at the earrings themselves only made it more apparent. It wasn't just some jewelry she'd done up as a test and barely thought about the design of.
The earrings were simple, but clearly themed: a flower on each, but crotchet rests for leaves and a whole note as the center. There was no reasoning of merchandise or just trying something out this time; these were made with him in mind.
And, going off of the flower design, a little bit of herself too.
"This is a lot," he pointed out, and even that felt like an understatement.
She softened, sympathetic. Raising her hands up, she assured, "You don't have to wear them if you don't want to! I already thought that your earrings might mean something to you, so—"
"No," he cut in immediately, catching the misunderstanding. "I meant that you've been giving me so many gifts. You don't have to."
"Huh? But I do," she began as she straightened her back, glaring with determination and clenching her hands tightly into fists, "if I want to get that best friend spot!"
"What?"
He blinked at her, wide-eyed at the sudden declaration. Marinette herself only realized what she said a second later, her posture turning to a slump as she groaned into her hands.
Part of him thought about letting it go, but he was too invested in how important this was to her. He leaned in, asking softly, "Best friend spot?"
She lowered her hands just enough to look at him, then sighed and dropped them at her sides. "Juleka and Rose are already best friends, and Ivan has Mylene, so..." She flicked her wrist in his direction as if to say, 'well, you know.'
Luka did know now, but it hit him like a truck. He flashed back to times of the group playing video games together and the way Marinette's competitive spirit came out, quite literally, to play.
That expression he couldn't quite place all this time and her giving him so many gifts suddenly made sense: she'd been "competing" to take the role of his best friend. There wasn't even anyone to compete with, and she'd known that, yet something so basic held value to her to the point of seeing it as something to "win."
Luka turned his head away and covered his mouth with a hand. He wanted to laugh, but didn't want to give her the idea that he found her efforts something to laugh at. No, it was simply that it was the cutest thing he'd ever heard and it was taking actual effort not to say that out loud.
"A-ah? Luka!" Marinette called, leaning to try and catch a glimpse of his expression.
He went to speak, but remembered the hand covering his mouth and lowered it. Grinning at her, he replied, "You've already got the part."
"The part?" she repeated, then grew excited when what he meant hit her. "Really?"
Cute. So cute. The absolute cutest. How'd she been friendless for so long before meeting him and the others was beyond his understanding.
"What did it?" she pressed. "The CDs? The scarf? The plush? The earrings? It was the earrings, right?"
He shook his head, unable to stop smiling, and didn't elaborate beyond, "It's you." Then, staring down adoringly at the earrings in their little jewelry box, he added, "But I do want to wear these. Can you put them in for me?"
She was still in shock, but shook herself out of it to answer him. "O-oh, sure..."
She took the jewelry box back and he turned around to take out his earrings. He knew it wasn't like he was getting undressed in front of her or anything, but he was learning quickly that even he had limits for how long he could deal with her pretty face saying pretty things.
He removed both earrings, then heard a tiny pecking noise from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Marinette, turned away from him but not enough that he couldn't see the kiss she gave one of the earrings.
He could hear a pounding in his ears, clutching his earrings tight in his hands to feel them poking into his skin, just to make sure this was real.
Luka honestly - perhaps foolishly - thought things would remain like that: with them being "officially" (whatever that meant) best friends and Marinette not feeling like she had to compete with it. She did take the hints that the gifts weren't necessary, and thus gift giving had returned to their usual back and forth.
He hadn't considered anything further than that.
One day, Juleka and Rose were preparing to go on a long walk together, off to a place they hadn't been before. Luka knew they'd be alright, but gave his sister a cheek kiss in a silent wish for luck and safety.
He felt a pair of eyes on him at that moment, but Rose was busy excitedly putting semi-random objects in her bag for the "trip." Also, what was the sudden sense of foreboding going up his spine?
Juleka and Rose waved goodbye and departed the Liberty, Ivan having already left a while ago to see Mylene. Knowing that left only one possibility, Luka glanced over his shoulder to see Marinette, sitting on an instrument case and looking his way.
Immediately, she dropped her gaze to her lap, pouting.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, walking over to her. "We're best friends. You can tell me anything if you want to."
"I-it's nothing," she insisted when it was clearly not nothing. "It makes sense. She's your sister, so it works differently."
Utterly lost, he merely blinked at her, mind racing to understand what had her sulking like she was. It was only when she brought a hand up, her fingertips idly skimming her cheek, that it registered.
"...You want me to kiss you on the cheek?" He sat down next to her, turning towards her as much as possible without their legs brushing.
She blushed, but answered noncommittally, "If you want?" Her voice lowered as she mumbled more to herself than him. "My skin probably isn't as nice anyway. I bet Juleka uses a lot of moisturizer."
Evasive as it was, her position was clear: he was doing something with Juleka that he wasn't doing with her, and thus she was "losing." She wanted him to do things with her that he'd do with anyone else, and maybe even more than that. In his personal opinion, that wasn't being best friends, but—
Well, point being, he was happy to "prove" that they were best friends if these were the standards to hold to.
He leaned over, pressing a light kiss to her cheek that was slightly longer than the one he'd given Juleka, just to be safe. Marinette still smelled faintly of strawberries and coconut, a scent he'd long grown fond of whenever she'd press herself against him in her eagerness to show him something.
He could also confirm that her skin was actually very nice.
She stiffened, mouth dropping open in surprise that he'd actually done it, then delight. A little giggle-hum came out of her as she rested her hands in her lap, looking absurdly pleased with herself.
Luka wasn't sure how she always did that. She was unpredictable, even when he felt he knew her, and was practically preening from a little kiss on the cheek. It was such an easy thing for him to do, but it meant something to her.
His role in the band as "leader" hadn't been self-designated, as he'd always been fine playing in the background if need be. He had no need for attention, fame, and the like. Marinette was different though, and not at all in a bad way.
She was making him center stage, showing him again how much impact his presence had. He didn't know how he'd gotten so lucky.
"Ah," Marinette began even though that wasn't really a word, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She was trying to be "cool" about all this, but that was hard to do when she swayed from side to side, her prior pouting swallowed up in her bliss. "You don't have to worry about the earrings, by the way."
"Hm?"
She pointed at one of his earrings - the ones she made for him - and clarified, "I'll make you another pair if you ever get bored of them."
He'd done such a good job at not chuckling at how cute she was, but that finally made him snort. She raised a brow at the reaction and he grinned, pointing out, "That won't work."
"Why not?" She leaned in, genuinely curious.
He reached up to the earrings, affectionately stroking the delicate lines of the flower she designed. "I won't get bored of them. If you make me another pair, I'll just get my ears pierced again."
"Wh—" She shook her head in disbelief, having expected a more practical answer like 'you shouldn't be making me more earrings on a whim.' "You can't do that!"
He shrugged unapologetically, because he absolutely could do that, and he would. Maybe he could make an appointment sometime soon just to prove it.
Shoulders tense in her defiance, she challenged, "And if I get you another pair after that?"
As if it were obvious - and it was to him - he replied easily, "I'll get them pierced again."
"You'll run out of room eventually!"
"I have other places I could get pierced."
She was looking deadly, comically serious about all of this. She brought a fist up to her mouth, her eyes darting all over him like there might be a big sign hanging on him, saying that he didn't mean it.
He wasn't sure what she was actually looking for, but when she made eye contact again, there was something familiar; something blazing behind her gaze.
With her other hand, she reached out and snagged his sleeve. Her pull was strong, bringing him close enough to where he could feel her little huff against his skin. Then and there, she kissed his skin back, right next to his lips.
It was like a tiny lightning bolt hitting him, sparks spreading out all along his face and down his neck. He couldn't tell if the warmth was from her or his face heating up.
Her hand left his sleeve and pressed against his chest, putting him at arm's length to her. Her own cheeks were red, but that fire in her eyes was still there: her competitiveness.
Looking away from him, she stood up quickly and shouted, "W-we'll see!"
Then she ran off further into the Liberty, as if to flee from the bold move. It didn't serve the purpose of actually running away - he lived there - nor did it clarify on what they would "see" about, but it at least gave him a moment to think.
He'd thought before that she hadn't had any competition to be his best friend, which was still true. He couldn't have imagined anyone who could've taken that place but her, so the only obstacle after that was saying it out loud as far as he was concerned, and they'd done that.
But now there was a second competition he hadn't been aware of, whether that was being the best best friend or whatever else she was aiming for. Regardless, she did have an opponent - him - and he'd seen how merciless she could be when it came to competitions.
One thing was for sure: he was in so much trouble.