Work Text:
“Sooo,” Chat Noir tries, half-slumped on the sun-soaked tiles. “You have a girlfriend. That’s new.”
Felix doesn’t wait to ruffle through the bag: he’s always been hungry for sweetness in all its forms. Chat Noir hasn’t forgotten the wedding ring, and the box, and the bloodshot sky — but they are willing to move forward, to take the first step from the safety of their mask.
“Is that so surprising?” Their cousin finds a pistachio cookie, and bites straight into it. Bliss flashes over his face before he adds: “you’re easily the twelfth person to ask.”
“You have twelve friends?”
“You count yourself among them?”
“Meowch! Touché.” Chat Noir isn’t sure what they are, but at least there’s no open fire between them. “It’s just… you never struck me as the romantic type.”
“I wasn’t.” Felix sheds his defences, and a few years of age. “Kagami is, though — she’s always been. Even after her heart was crushed to bits.”
“I always knew your cousin was a jerk.”
“Watch it.” It’s bittersweet, this persistent protectiveness: Adrien does not want it, except when he does. “I want to cover her in flowers. I want to write her name in the clouds. I want to make her feel loved, every day, until the end of time — and even after that.”
“That’s… pretty intense.”
“We’re both pretty intense people.” Felix’s eyes, resolutely magenta, suddenly burn through his skin. “You’ve stopped pursuing Ladybug. I appreciate it.”
“Thank… you…?” The hero frowns, mouth full with passion fruit ganache. “Didn’t you just say you had a girlfriend…?”
“Don’t get it twisted. I’m merely glad I don’t have to witness your strange mating dance on patrol.”
“Oooh, so making out on the clock is fine, but a few harmless puns are out of line?”
“Those were not puns. Those were an insult to everything that is holy.”
Chat Noir should put up more of a fight, but Adrien doesn’t: instead, he breathes, filling his chest with the scent of viennoiseries.
“I met someone.”
“I see.”
“She’s a much better fit for me. For one, she — she actually likes me that way.” He pauses, but no gibe comes. “Looking back, I don’t think I was ever in love with Ladybug. I just wanted someone to love me, period.”
“Complicated homelife?”
“My parents kinda died.”
“You don’t sound happy about it.”
“What…? Of course I’m not happy about it!”
He’s not lying — technically. Felix throws his hands up, but doesn’t seem convinced.
They sit in silence for a while, plucking treats from the bag.
***
“Are you happy?”
It’s a loaded question, and a selfish one: Marinette asks because she needs to know, because she wants something good to have come out of that mess. Otherwise, she will have betrayed everything — her principles, her partner, her boyfriend — for nothing.
Perhaps, a little voice whispers in the back of her mind, perhaps it’s even more twisted than that. Perhaps you want the unease to be shared — the burden to be halved.
“The happiest I’ve ever been in my life.” Kagami has always been certain; this time, she’s also sincere. “Felix and I are going to get married.”
Marinette blows tea through her nose.
“I fail to see what shocks you so much.”
“I’m not shocked!!! Not at all!!! It’s just…” Her friend hands her a napkin; she accepts, and fails to think her next words through. “You guys are only fifteen.”
“You met Adrien at thirteen and a half. That did not stop you from planning your entire lives together.”
“But in the meantime, there was Luka. And Chat Noir. And you.” To say nothing of The Situation. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but nothing so far has gone according to plan.”
Kagami adds a sugarcube to her cup, then another one; that never used to happen before.
***
Chloé hates New York.
Everything is so big, so tall, the roaring incarnation of everything she once thought she wanted: not a hive, but an anthill, agitated and acerbic and anxious. The worst part of it all, maybe, is that she only has herself to blame.
Urgh, and Monarch of course. And Lila. And Ladybug and Adrikins and Sabrina, for abandoning her. But maybe — just maybe — it’s her parents’ fault before anyone else’s; now that she’s out of the Butterfly’s reach, Chloé is free to think and feel, and she truly doesn’t like the result.
The point is: she’s definitely not crying alone in her room when someone knocks on the glass panel. The point is: there’s absolutely no hint of relief when she meets the ridiculously painted face.
“Go away!!!” She shoos, like she would a greedy seagull. “I don’t want to see your stupid face right now! Or ever!!!”
“I see exile has failed to make you wise.”
She’s pretty sure there’s a lock on that window, but that’s never stopped Felix before.
“I’m really, really not in the mood right now. If you’re going to snap me again, just get it over with.”
Felix, or whatever his villain name is, doesn’t listen: instead, he trails his fingers over her cupboard, then picks up her favourite Fabergé egg.
“Watch it! It’s fragile!”
“Of course it is.” He shrugs, throwing it from one hand to the other. “See all these gemstones? They’re actually glass.”
“You’re lying.”
“Maybe I am.” Felix adds one, two, three eggs to his juggling act. “Whoever made those finishing touches did a terrible job… Next time you want your own counterfeit, give me a call. I usually forge them for free, but for you, I’ll make an exception.”
“Did you fly all the way here just to mock me, nitwit? Or was there something else?”
The arc of his eyebrows is familiar, even with that god-awful green dye: one by one, the artefacts find their place back on the cupboard, taking the whimsy with them.
“I wanted your expert opinion on a topic that, as it turns out, I know depressingly little about.”
“There’s no fixing your costume. Just go back to the drawing board and figure it out yourself.”
“Don’t try to act smart... It doesn't look good on you.” The frown deepens, which is sobering, somehow. “I was hanging out with a certain feline the other day.”
“OK, OK, I get it! You’re all redeemed and good and friends with the heroes now, and I’m the little pest who blew her chance. Never heard that one before!”
“Do you think it’s a coincidence,” Felix asks, undeterred, “that Chat Noir loves the exact same pastries as Adrien?”
And that, for once, shuts her up.
***
“You’re joking,” she whimpers, burying her face in her hands. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“Nope.” Oh god — oh no: Felix pops the p the way Chat Noir does. “Sit down, Marinette. This isn’t going to be a pleasant conversation.”
“Would you like more calming tea?”
“No, Kagami, I don’t need any calming tea!!! You’ve almost drowned me in calming —” She stops, peeking at her friend behind sweaty fingers. “Wait, is that why you came over…? So you could sedate me while your boyfriend staged an intervention?!”
“I can’t believe you told an outsider before me,” Chloé growls, fists tight around the cashmere of her jumper. “Or that you two get to keep your Miraculous, when everyone knows exactly who you are…”
“And who I am.” Marinette slouches, defeated. “I know you rich kids have a complicated relationship with the concept of rules, but could you please stop sharing my identity like it’s a fucking galette? I’d appreciate that very much.”
“Chloé won’t tell.”
“Chloé couldn’t keep a secret if her life depended on it!”
“This whole debate is ridiculous — utterly ridiculous! Adrien has also been hiding stuff from all of us, shouldn’t we be worried about that?”
“This new intel changes everything.” It’s Kagami speaking, half-draped over Felix’s lap. “We must tell them the truth before Chrysalis does.”
“Chrysalis isn’t going to find out. No one is going to find out.”
“You said it yourself: Chloé can’t keep a secret to save her life.”
“You told her about the Sentimonster-Monarch-basement thing?!”
“Marinette, you don’t seem to grasp how much the situation has changed. An akumatised Chat Noir could cause havoc beyond our imagination.”
“I don’t need to imagine it.”
“My cousin needs to know.” Felix nods, or tries to: it’s not easy, with his head nestled in his girlfriend’s neck. “I’m well aware I wasn’t always your most… straight-forward ally…”
“Euphemism of the century.”
“But I was wrong.” Apparently, today is the day Hell freezes over. “And, at the end of the day, we all want what’s best for Adrien. Which is why we’ll be there when you tell him the truth.”
“When I — me?! Tell your clone about your family secrets that you dragged me into?!”
“You’re the most important person in his life, Dupain-Cheng!” Chloé’s rumbling, as often, is laced with longing. “Everyone in this room has come to terms with that fact. Have you?”
It hits her, suddenly, that her old nemesis is right: that despite Amelie’s best efforts, the basement and study will forever remain empty. Ladybug is well-versed in the art of swinging through the sky, but this void she needs to fill — this is a different kind of high, a brand new sort of vertigo.
“I think,” she breathes, heart pounding with a fury, “I think I’m going to be sick.”
Kagami, always prepared, refills her cup with peppermint.