Chapter Text
The rain splattered against the window as Marinette Dupain-Cheng lay sprawled across her bed, absentmindedly scrolling through listings on her laptop. For weeks she’d been trying to find an apartment—or even just a room—closer to her university, but everything was out of her price range.
As much as she loved living with her parents, she wanted to be nearer to campus and have a space of her own. She sighed as she shut the laptop and glanced down toward the lower part of her room, where her best friend Adrien Agreste sat cross-legged on the floor, a notebook in hand and his physics book open in front of him.
She smiled without meaning to. His pen was perched between his lips as he studied the pages, eyebrows slightly furrowed. It wasn’t until her Kwami, Tikki, popped into her line of vision that Marinette realized she’d been staring.
“I still think you should just stay here, Marinette. You’re stressing too much over finding a place,” Tikki said, gently patting her chosen’s cheek.
Marinette groaned, which finally drew Adrien’s attention. He looked up, his expression softening into one of those familiar, golden smiles that made everything else seem a little lighter.
“What’s bothering you, Bug?” he called, setting his books aside and heading for her ladder.
Marinette frowned, running her hands through her hair. “It’s really nothing, Kitty. I just… I’ve been looking for an apartment, but it’s got to be priced right. I mean, I still have to survive on commissions and stuff. Gah, don’t worry about it. Honestly.”
Adrien’s brow creased for just a second, then he smiled again, halfway to a smirk. “If it’s bugging you, then it’s bugging me, Mari. Maybe I can look around — see if Nathalie has any contacts?”
She ignored his puns as his grin enveloped her, warm and effortless. His green eyes met hers, steady, like he wasn’t just listening, he was with her. Like her struggle was his too, without hesitation or judgment.
And just like that, she felt herself falling again. It was ridiculous how fast it always happened. How one look from him could unravel the knots she worked so hard to tie. She’d told herself over and over: You’re just friends. You’re partners. That’s enough.
But moments like this made it hard to remember why she had to keep her feelings buried.
She forced a smile, one that masked more than it showed. “Thanks, Kitty. I mean it.”
Ever since they had revealed their identities four months ago when Hawk Moth seemingly disappeared, things had been different, deeper and stronger, but definitely different. Their partnership and friendship had only grown. When Marinette realized that Adrien and her mysterious, infuriatingly charming partner were one and the same, something in her cracked wide open.
And then she shut it again, because she couldn’t risk what they had now. Not for a maybe. Not even for him. What they had was too precious to her.
So, she tucked her feelings away, safe and silent, and focused on being the best friend and the best Ladybug she could be. And so far, it had worked, but it was times like this, she wanted to pull him to her and tell him how she felt.
Adrien was still watching her when a soft buzz from his phone pulled his attention. He blinked, glanced at the screen, and let out a low groan.
“Wow. I didn’t realize how late it got.”
Marinette pushed herself up on her elbows, frowning slightly. “You heading out?”
“I probably should,” he said, glancing toward the rain-streaked window. Thunder rumbled faintly in the distance. “But that storm doesn’t look like it’s going anywhere.”
“Then don’t.” The words left her mouth before she could think too hard about them. “Seriously, just stay. You’re already half-moved into that corner with your textbooks anyway.”
Adrien grinned, amused, eyes shifting into playful mischief as he wiggled them at her. “But what will your parents think?”
Marinette rolled her eyes, laughing. “You know they won’t care. You’re their favorite child anyway.”
“Oh?” Adrien raised a brow as if shocked. “Does that make you the less favorite child in your own house?”
“I mean, they might say I’m their only child,” she said with a smirk, “but we both know who gets extra croissants when he comes over.”
Adrien gasped, throwing his hand to his chest. “You noticed?”
“Adrien, my dad hides them for you behind the flour bin. It’s not exactly subtle.”
He laughed, a bright, easy sound that never failed to warm her chest. The kind of laugh that made her forget, for a moment, how complicated it all was, how hard she was trying to keep things simple between them.
“So?” she asked, jerking her chin toward the cozy chaise lounge near her bookshelf, already draped in one of her fluffiest throw blankets. “Staying?”
Adrien gave the window another glance, then looked back at her, eyes crinkled at the corners, expression light.
“Yeah,” he said, walking over to the lounge and flopping down dramatically. “Yeah, I think I will. Let me just text Nathalie, so she doesn’t worry.”
Marinette tossed a pillow at him. “Okay… and try not to keep me awake all night this time.”
“No promises,” he called, already sinking into the cushions with a contented sigh, phone in hand as he typed.
Marinette settled back into her bed and despite the storm still raging outside, the room felt warm. Safe. And maybe, this is just how it was always supposed to be.
***
Morning light crept in through the curtains, casting soft golden streaks across the room. Marinette stirred under her blanket, groaning and burrowing deeper into her pillow. The rain had stopped sometime in the night, replaced by the gentle hum of a quiet Paris morning.
That all broke as the trap door creaked open.
“Marinette, sweetheart,” Sabine’s voice called quietly as she started to climb into the room. “Breakfast is—oh!”
Her head poked up into the room just in time to spot Adrien still curled up on the chaise lounge, one arm draped over his eyes, his golden hair a tousled mess. She couldn’t see Marinette from the floor, but she assumed she was still up in her own bed.
Sabine paused, then smiled gently before calling out, “Well, good morning, lovebirds.”
Marinette’s eyes flew open, startled. “Maman!”
Adrien sat upright, wide-eyed and blinking. “Wh-what? I…I didn’t….good morning…sorry… hi…h…”
“I just came to wake you for breakfast,” Sabine said sweetly, as if nothing was out of the ordinary, even as her gaze slid meaningfully between the chaise lounge and Marinette’s bed. “But really, if you’re going to have sleepovers, you might as well be comfortable. You’re both adults, after all.”
“MAMAN!” Marinette shot upright groaning, blanket flying, eyes the size of saucers. Her face was rapidly turning the color of a ripe tomato. “It’s not…he didn’t…we weren’t…we’re not…”
Adrien scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over the edge of the throw blanket. “I slept on the chaise lounge! I swear…I mean…not that it’s wrong if we did…but we didn’t! I mean…uh…nothing happened!”
Sabine chuckled softly, completely unbothered. “Of course, of course. I didn’t mean to assume anything. Just saying you could share the bed. If you wanted to.”
Marinette buried her face in her hands. “I’m going to die. This is how I die.”
Adrien was tugging at the hem of his shirt, his ears glowing red.
Sabine was already descending the stairs. “Breakfast is in ten minutes. Don’t worry, I won’t say anything to your father.” She paused. “Unless he asks.”
“Maman!”
The trap door shut with a gentle thunk.
Marinette and Adrien were frozen in place for a long moment, faces red, hearts pounding.
Adrien sighed, as he glanced at Marinette who was leaning over the edge of her bed. “This is worse than that time your dad caught us coming back from patrol and asked if I was sneaking out.”
Marinette groaned and flopped backward onto the bed. “I’m never going downstairs again.”
Adrien slowly sat back on the chaise lounge, dragging a pillow onto his lap like a shield. “Do I still get breakfast?”
Marinette sat up, peeking through her fingers at him. “You know you’ll still get the extra croissant, favorite child.”
That earned a sheepish grin from him, and they both burst into laughter, a high-pitched, awkward, relieved type of laughter that echoed around the room and made the whole situation just a little less mortifying.
Ten minutes later, Marinette and Adrien stepped cautiously down the stairs into the kitchen, trying to look as normal as possible despite the lingering red in their cheeks and the very obvious we just got caught being alone in the same room overnight energy between them.
Tom was at the stove flipping pancakes while Sabine set out plates, coffee and juice. The moment he caught sight of them, he lit up.
“Well, look who’s up! Sleep well, Adrien?” he asked, entirely too casually.
Adrien smiled weakly. “Y-yeah! Very well. The chaise lounge was surprisingly comfortable.”
Tom raised a brow. “The chaise lounge, huh? Marinette not willing to share her bed?”
“Papa!” Marinette hissed, nearly dropping her bag.
“I’m just saying, sweetheart,” he continued, grinning like the sun, “he’s practically family. He’s here nearly every day, walking you to and from school. Don’t forget the pictures you had all over your room, and how much you used to…”
“Papa!” Marinette hissed, again.
“Oh, come on sweetheart, really, what’s changed?” Her father’s smile met his eyes as he looked between the two of them.
“Everything!” Marinette squeaked. “I was 14!”
Adrien, red-faced and halfway through pouring orange juice, nearly dropped the pitcher. “I-it’s not…We’re not…”
Tom plopped a pancake onto each of their plates. “Relax, I’m just teasing. Mostly.” He winked. “But I will say, it’s nice to see you two so close. Makes your mother and me wonder if we should start planning for more chairs at the dinner table.”
Adrien coughed on his juice.
Marinette made a strangled sound. “Okay, we’re going to be late—Adrien, get your bag!”
“But we have plenty…”
“Now Agreste.” Marinette was already standing, eyeing the smirk on her father’s face.
“But… what about breakfast?”
“Take the croissant and run!”
She shoved a buttered croissant into his hand, grabbed her own bag, and gave both her parents a kiss on the cheek with a muttered, “Love you, bye!” before dragging Adrien toward the front door.
Adrien shrugged at her parents as she dragged him out the door, bag hanging from his shoulder.
Tom called after them with a chuckle, “Have a great day at school, kids! Don’t forget…if you do decide to share the bed next time, at least fluff the pillows!”
The front door slammed shut behind them, leaving Sabine to pat her husband on the arm.
“Don’t tease them so much,” she said, though she was smiling.
Tom grinned back. “I’m a baker, Sabine. It’s in my nature to know when the temperature is rising.”
Sabine narrowed her eyes, the dish towel still in hand. “Tom Dupain. That is our daughter you’re talking about.”
He held up his hands in mock surrender, but the sparkle in his eyes didn’t fade. “I didn’t say anything inappropriate! Just… observational.”
Sabine rolled her eyes, but her smile was fond. “One of these days, you’re going to embarrass them so badly they’ll never come home again.”
Tom chuckled and returned to buttering a croissant. “If they survived this morning, they can survive anything.”
***
Down the street, Marinette and Adrien power-walked toward the trolly station.
“I can’t believe them!” Marinette hissed, her cheeks crimson. “'We don’t mind if you share the bed, you’re both adults now'…I think I actually left my body.”
Adrien rubbed the back of his neck, his own face still tinged pink. “At least your dad didn’t start showing me your baby pictures again.”
“Just you wait,” she groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “Next time he’s going to start planning the wedding menu.”
Adrien laughed under his breath, voice teasing. “Okay, but the pastries would absolutely slap.”
She shot him a look, trying not to smile. “Not helping.”
They reached the station just as the train pulled in. Adrien nudged her shoulder lightly. “For the record, I think it’s sweet. Your parents love you. And me, apparently.”
Marinette huffed but softened. “Yeah, well. Don’t get used to being the favorite child. I’m still their actual kid.”
Adrien grinned. “Sure, sure. But they’re okay with me sleeping on the chaise lounge. That’s practically family.”
She elbowed him. “Keep talking and next time you’re getting the floor.”
They both laughed, boarding the trolly together as the doors slid closed.