Chapter Text
Tranquility settled on the skies of Paris like never before that summer. It was a pleasantly moderate season for sure, blue skies without the blight of rain or the burn of heat, but the very atmosphere was otherwise different. Paris felt blessed, for its heroes worked together like never before, swatting away akuma after akuma like they were nothing more than troublesome flies. It was incredible to watch; more incredible were the silhouettes of the happy three in the twilight, dancing across the spires of Notre Dame, swinging their legs over the edge of the Arc de Triomphe, hanging from the sides of the Eiffel Tower and laughing. Rarely before seen pictures of peace in the emblems of the same.
No one had known the true extent of tension within the team - not even the sharp-sighted reporter from the Ladyblog had realised - but their new bliss was easily observed. What a wonderful summer it was! The heroes must be feeling the warmth of that gentle sun, they thought, and it worked miracles - though Chat Noir's love for sunbeams had always been common knowledge, the light seemed to have affected them all.
The happiest observer of this subtle and marvellous change was Ladybug, who had given up all hope that her teammates would ever get along. And yet, to think that the solution to keeping the Miraculous wielders in harmony had been in the palm of her hand the whole time - or both palms perhaps, as she couldn't hold one teammate's hand without the other wanting the same pleasure for themselves.
So, yes, there were still the tiniest of fractures in the team, small things that she'd have to work out or else Lucky Charm her way out of, but things certainly weren't bad. They were rather good, in fact. Pretty great, one could argue.
And, naturally, Chat Noir and Queen Bee found cause to argue about it; "You know," Chat purred, rubbing his cheek into the crook of Ladybug's shoulder, "Sitting with you, so simply like this... it's the best thing."
"Don't call it a thing. Are you always so venacular?"
"What would you call it, Your Highness? Since you're always so smart and superior."
She chose not to pick up on the heavy sarcasm that dragged his voice down somewhere onto ground level, or perhaps deep into the Metro, "I would call it a marvel. An epiphany. A-"
"Pretentious pile of shit?"
"Speak for yourself. I'm not the one who licks my own asshole."
"You know, I'd prefer-"
Ladybug cut in before the conversation took a strange, sordid turn where she sat at the centre, "Hanging out with you is definitely high up on things that I enjoy. A marvel too, when you guys can be quiet."
She felt Chat's smug grin tug against the small sliver of exposed skin by her neck, "You can always quieten me with a kiss, my lady."
What could she do but oblige? And what could Bee do but turn her head round for a kiss of her own?
There was something very simple, incredibly satisfying, about the act of kissing. Chat's kisses were rougher and his teeth got in the way, but they were meltingly soft and expressive, made Ladybug quiver. Bee was liquid-smooth and sweet as honey, kissed with her tongue and entire torso, and was eloquent and elegant and dripping with desire. Ladybug, by their adamant necessity, could not kiss the one without soon gracing the mouth of the other, and danced dizzily, divinely, between the two pleasures. Certainly, she'd had worse ideas than convincing the two to share her.
She shook herself free with a sigh, "Really, I shouldn't make out with you after you've been arguing. You'll never stop if I give in like this. It's negative reinforcement."
Bee thought about this, "I swear that only applies to babies and pets."
"Well, I suppose I'm the pet, so what does that make you?"
"Shut up. I'm, like, the most mature person here."
"You tugged my tail!"
"Only because you were slapping me with it!"
"Yeah, because you insinuated-"
"Aww," she simpered, "The pussycat knows a long word."
"Really driving in that point about your maturity, babe."
"I'm not your babe, asshole."
"I've got to say, your fascination with my asshole-"
Ladybug rolled her eyes and pushed them gently away. Hopefully with the added distance they might struggle a bit more at throwing the insults across at one another, but if that plan failed, at least she wasn't in the middle of the attack. She moved to the edge of the rooftop, turned around to watch them, blue eyes narrow behind the red of her mask.
"Shut up. Looks like Ladybug's getting serious."
"At least one of us is capable."
"Did you not hear or understand the words 'shut up'?"
"Rather beneath my intellect, to be honest."
Ladybug drew a deep breath, "You know, I've been thinking..."
This was more effective than a 'shut up' could ever be. Not even a superhero is immune to the immediate sense of catastrophe an 'I've been thinking' can bring, and so the two superheroes stopped dead. Chat's ears twitched, Bee leaned forward.
"How much do your civilian and hero personas interact, integrate? Like are they the same person to you, or different?"
"Different," Bee said without hesitation, shoulders relaxing with this seemingly safe topic, "Like, I'm a whole different person when I'm in the suit. Nicer, I guess."
Chat harrumphed, "Doesn't really show."
"Oh, that's a cute observation. Can I make a quick guess before you answer? I would think you're no different, exactly just as obnoxious in person, literally just as identically bratty and cocky and shitty as you are... well, always?"
For once, he shrugged her off, "No. Pretty different. I've got almost no personality when the suit's off."
"Thank goodness," Bee said, but just as quickly, "Don't say that about yourself."
"It's true."
"It's unfair."
He turned away, not interested in continuing an argument that wasn't in their usual vein, "Well, Ladybug? Are you going to make this a nice three in a row or do you feel otherwise to us?"
She wondered for a moment whether to resume Bee's thread, but figured it was a depth of Chat he didn't want exploring, "I'd say different as well, I think. Ladybug's... I'm a whole load more confident and happy when I'm like this... it's interesting though, isn't it, that we all feel better in this role - or maybe it's because we're supposed to be better, that we've got this great weight of expectation on us now that we're trying to act for the good of the city."
Bee studied her for a moment, blinking long and low with a measured sweep of her lashes, "What's brought this on, Ladybug? Something on your mind? Do you need to talk?"
"I'm coming round to the subject. Just... uh, give me a moment, I'm afraid of how it's going to sound... but I guess to me, Ladybug and Ma- my other self are not that connected at all. Some things, yeah, they're the same - I like the same people, I enjoy the same hobbies - but some of the important stuff changes hugely, like my personality I guess, and my relationships. I don't know you guys in 'real life', and I've got other people down there," she said, nodding down at the Paris streets, "And I've got certain things I want to do that I can't do in the suit... and in a way, I want to keep the suit separate from those things. For my safety and my own fulfilment. Am I making sense?"
"Ye-es," Chat scratched his ear absently as he spoke, "I think I do, it's a vague feline I've had myself."
"Do you have to make puns when we're being serious?" Bee hissed, out of earshot.
"Ye-es. It's my biological im-purr-ative."
Bee slapped him.
Ladybug carried on, not noticing, "And I really like you guys and that's every part of me, but the other part of me can't really do that properly. And there's people the other part of me really likes as well, and this part does too even though it makes no sense why a hero would like them in particular," her voice began to trail away, all the energy in her being poured in now to maintain the blush on her cheeks, "But if the superhero and the civilian are separate..."
"You can... you know..."
"I suppose if you want to... and they want to..."
"Date?" she squeaked, "Other people?"
Not since their first brush with their feelings had there been a silence this awkward and profound. Chat continued scratching his ear, now with some new passion. Bee stared down at her knees, drumming her fingers on the bone. Ladybug choked, swivelling round to face the street. A taxi drove past, jeering air in its wake.
Bee coughed to shatter the quiet, "I mean, there's a hot boy in my class..."
Ladybug sighed, "There's the loveliest boy in mine..."
"I'll have you know I am both the hottest and loveliest of boys."
Bee didn't even stoop to a response, "You know, I'm glad you brought it up, Ladybug. We haven't exactly defined the terms of this relationship-" she said the word with a scowl at Chat, who she still believed to have ruined her true chances with her idol, "And it's a good point, about our civilian lives. I think I'd be happy to extend the sharing a little further."
"Really?"
"Sure. As long as I can do it too."
Chat looked from between the two of them in desparation. Ladybug was the only girl, the only anyone, who'd caught his attention. Competing with this striped devil was hard enough, but now he'd have to compete with her civilian love too? No thanks. This was too much. This was ridiculous. This was... "As long as it's just the three of us when we're suited up. And as long as you guys tell me if you find someone else when you're in your regular clothes."
Ladybug nodded, "They sound like good terms."
"I'll take it."
"Ok..." Chat breathed, a slight whistle in the air he expelled, "So that's that."
"As long as you're okay with it, mon minou."
"In theory, sort of. I'll update you to how it goes in practice."
"Chaton, cherie," Ladybug sighed, moving forward to embrace him in her arms and daisy-soft scent, "You're too good for me."
"And that's why you can only handle me half the time, and Bee for the other," he joked, kissing her forehead.
"You're mine all the time. Whenever you want."
And when Ladybug captured his lips the way she did, and Bee didn't interrupt his moment or even ask for one of her own in exchange, Chat found himself softening to the idea just as Ladybug's body softened into his, her tongue twisted into his and turned over all his mind. You know what, maybe it was okay, he could share just a little bit further. He had his girl, and would happily give her whatever she wanted, even if it involved someone else, and he would do his very best not to get too jealous, as she would also be someone else in the process, someone she attested to be very different but also, it went without saying, probably equally lovely. Nope, he would not get jealous.
Meanwhile, he just had to prove himself extra hot, and especially lovely. Maybe he'd even stop bickering with Bee. Maybe.
Adrien Agreste had always been Marinette's first - and best - love. Adrien Agreste had characterised the past two years, brought them form and flavour. Adrien Agreste had occupied many of her dreams, and yet more of her mindless wandering classroom fantasies. Adrien Agreste had... no idea.
Marinette was determined that would change, and she had two very compelling reasons to believe it would be so. One, she had recently learned a little something of love that wasn't aching and distant but instead close and full of laughter - and the experience would surely help her where she had so often stumbled. Two, she had received the encouragement that it was going to be OK if she made her move, and pretty much every important person in her life supported her; Alya, always, her parents had guessed at it, and hell, even Paris' greatest superhero team had given their consent.
Now all that was left was to finally, absolutely, irrevocably go for it.
And this was absolutely and irrevocably the hardest part of the damned thing.
Marinette stared wistfully at the back of Adrien's golden and perfect head. It should be illegal for boys that beautiful to be that kind, for it was a sword of the sharpest sort, and his green eyes ran her through with every look. His eyes - a colour poets call viridian but Marinette swore they were greener even than that - were stunning, with lovely long lashes, so warm too, and they spoke of the loveliest depths of his soul. The soul that had captured hers, that twisted her tongue into convoluted knots and made her stomach all squishy. The soul that could be hers. She could do it. Asking him would be so easy. In fact, she'd already almost succeeded about a dozen times in the asking alone.
He must have felt the intensity of that stare, or else heard Alya's repressed snigger, for he turned his head. Marinette, blushing, quickly looked away, looked anywhere she could. Straight at Chloé, who was busy looking somewhere over at her.
Make that three reasons why Adrien Agreste felt that little bit more attainable. Chloé seemed to have stopped caring about the gorgeous model in their class - which was a huge shock to Sabrina, who knew of little other pastime except her friend obsessing about Parisian celebrities - and was wrapped in some strange and hazy glow of contentment that meant even if she snapped, she was so warm in doing so that her classmates couldn't help but smile at the insult. It was bizarre, and creeped Marinette out beyond expression, but it meant her rival was theoretically out of the picture.
But Chloé, at-present-strangely-almost-friendly-Chloé, was looking at Marinette with eyes narrowed into hostile slits and a savage mouth that gnawed relentlessly at a fingernail.
Marinette, slightly unsettled by her return to antipathy, looked back over to Adrien, who was looking at Chloé, so Marinette decided to look at Chloé again, who was in turn looking at Adrien. Her eyes were big now, the huntress mouth smoothed into a honeytrap smile. The change was instantaneous and dazzling and altogether infuriating, especially when Adrien raised a shy hand to wave at her.
The sight of it made Marinette gag on her anger. Truly, there was no one worse - no one she'd less rather hand Adrien over to - than Chloé Bourgeois. Indeed, if Marinette were Ladybug, she would have happily yo-yo'd the girl into oblivion. Fortunately for her, Marinette and Ladybug were quite separate, and in fact, Ladybug's personal grievances did not keep her from saving the heiress whenever she did something stupid. Even more fortunately, Chloé was no longer testing this particular patience, and seemed to finally have learned how not to akumatise the entirety of Paris. A leopard may not change its spots, Marinette thought bitterly, but at least a snake had the decency to shed its skin every once in a while.
Sometime in all that thinking, without her realising it, Adrien had started looking at her. Marinette was afraid the resentment for her other classmate would show and that he would think it was for him, and so she quickly tugged her lips into what she hoped was a genial smile. To her great relief and greater joy, Adrien beamed at her and gave the same wave (but better, of course) to the one he gifted to Chloé. Then, he turned back. End of that. Time to stop looking. Time to start... doing?
She turned open an exercise book to a blank page, flicked the cap off a pen, removed the safety cap from her thoughts. She would write him a note. She would write him something and try not to make it cliché. Maybe she would write something meaningful, but probably she'd just ask him to see a movie or stop by the bakery for a coffee and a pastry. No, she had to tell him. She was decided literally ten seconds ago to tell him, due to some stupid pact she made with her girlfriend and boyfriend, and whatever happened next was okay. Knowing was the worst of it.
'Adrien. Hi! Just wanted to say that you've been a really good friend to me and I'd really like to get to know you better :) If you're free this weekend we should do something together. I always enjoy it when I'm with you! Love, Mari x'
The 'love' was pushing it; the single kiss threw it (whatever 'it' was) right off the cliff into the depths of disaster. But that was okay, right? Marinette was the very definition of a walking disaster, and if he didn't like that...
Well, she didn't really know how to cope with that, but that wasn't the point.
When the bell rang for break, she tapped Adrien on his shoulder (she was touching him and he was warm and lovely) and smiled as their eyes met, "Hey... uh, Adrien... I was thinking - because that's what class is for, you know, thinking, aha! - and uh, it occurred to me that we should... or could... might... this is for you!"
Good thing she'd written the note. Her head was no longer connected to her voicebox, and it was useless trying to communicate while he stared blankly at her and smiled - his stare and smile were too much, and she was already flustered. Her eyes slid shyly down, and she held the note out in front of her.
A manicured hand snatched it up where it stood, "Don't worry, Adrikins. I'll take this garbage out for you."
Marinette's eyes shot up, latched onto Chloé's with venom, "That's not-"
"I wasn't talking about the note."
Her fingers clenched, "Give it back. It doesn't belong to you."
"It doesn't belong to me? Pfft, I can afford to pay for anything I want," she smirked, coiling herself forward to jeer in Marinette's face - and she did not fail to notice that Chloé's hand was resting on Adrien's forearm possessively.
"Some things you can't buy."
"Some things," she sniffed, "I don't want to."
And with that, she threw the scrunched up piece of paper into Marinette's lap. Outraged, the dark-haired girl shot up to her feet - in front of her, Adrien vaguely rose as well - and jabbed a finger into Chloé's chest, "I'd suggest you go buy yourself an ounce of kindness, because you seem to be running out. Why do you insist on making everyone miserable?"
"Miserable? My presence in itself is wonderful," Chloé yelped, indignant.
"Money can't buy happiness. But the people around you, they can sure help," her eyes accidentally roved to Adrien, then shot back to Chloé with fire, "And you're not helping. So, would you let the rest of us just get on with it?"
She was quiet for a moment, her face furrowing into the deepest glare. Then, tossing her head of furious golden hair behind her, she stalked from the room. Then, it was quiet.
Marinette cleared her throat, "Uh, Adrien..."
This startled him, "Oh god, I'm going to be late! Talk to me later, Mari, okay?"
"Okay."
This is what she told him, but it wasn't quite right; just /trying/ to talk had taken a lot out of her, and she knew she wouldn't be trying again any time soon.
Chloé would quite simply have to be dealt with before she made another attempt.
"Bee, how do you deal with competition?"
The striped hero looked up curiously, "I don't have to. I know I'm the best. Well, second best: you, of course, place way ahead of me," she kissed Ladybug's cheek with reverence, "So I have no clue who you could be competing with, or why on earth you'd have to."
"It's for the boy I like. And since you and Chat were fighting all that time-"
"Yes, but we all knew I'd beat that alleycat in the end. It wasn't a real competition."
Ladybug looked wordlessly at her.
Bee carried hurriedly on, "Well, a sort of variety of competition, I guess. But I didn't really pay him any attention as a competitor, per se, he was just a guy in a suit who pissed me off. Still pisses me off. Pisses probably everyone off. And now there's someone pissing you off, which I can't bear the thought of. Tell me about who you're up against."
"She's..." Ladybug searched for something, then sighed, a long and mournful sound, "Probably better than me in every way. Like, she'll get him and I won't, just because she gets everything she wants and that's the way it is. She's rich, and she's so, so pretty - always looks perfect, even when it's raining or she's stressed - and she's popular. Not, like, genuinely popular, but the kind that people revere. She's powerful. She's... kind of a bitch. I don't really like her."
"Then your regular-guy hunk isn't going to like her either."
"No, but you don't get it. She's a big deal, and I'm... well, I'm not. I don't stand a chance"
"Chance?" Bee grinned, slung an arm around her shoulder, "My dear, chance is exactly what you're best at."
"Yes, but that's-"
"That's why you're going to absolutely slay this game, and have someone mega hot to snog when you don't feel like getting suited up. You're going to beat this bitch, no fucking contest babe, superhero or civilian"
Chloé didn't know much about true friendship, but she knew it was everything.
She was learning about it with Sabrina - who, for so long, she'd simply used, kept as a sentient accessory - and was pouring her time and money into treating her as she entirely deserved. It was part of the new and improved Chloé Bourgeois, the one that knew about human sensitivity and tried her best to be attentive. And yet, when it came to friendship, she thought her best was with the gorgeous, covetable model in their class.
Maybe it was wishful thinking. Maybe it was just the crush. Or maybe it was because she knew him, back when they were young and lonely and knew nothing of the world. Their parents were always busy, but they made room for one another - and that Adrien-shaped space remained by her side. They were the cliché two sides of a coin. When they were unknown, they had known one another, when the world was cold, there had been warmth one other. Was it so stupid that she still felt that draw?
It had probably come across as insincere want, the way she had pursued and consumed him - and perhaps it was to a degree, puberty had hit him well - but it was because she had made it that way, because she was the vapid blonde rich bitch, and that was simply how her archetype acted. Not any more. Now was the time to be assertively intelligent, confidently kind and unashamedly in love with her childhood sweetheart.
Adrien's friendship had meant everything to her, and she was not going to lose it to a girl whose friendship she could never gain, and who would bar him from her.
It was time to make up for a few years of being an irrefutable bitch: easy peasy.
However, it would serve her well to still look like one, she knew she'd look near irresistible; lick of red lipstick, flick of devious eyeliner, nick of skin in a dress made for warmer weather. It wasn't her usual uniform, but nothing too scandalous for school and everything more than what the other girls in class would be serving - especially mumsy little Marinette, always so meek and mim in pigtails and pink. If Marinette wanted Adrien, tough luck, she'd have to get past Chloé's razor-good looks.
She inhaled deep. Okay, enough of the stone cold inner voice, lest it got in the way in reality. Time for sweet Chloé, new Chloé, Queen Bee Chloé without the undertones of social stereotype.
"Adrikins!" she smiled, leaning onto his desk, stretching her body out into perfect lines for his pleasure, "Just the guy I wanted to talk to."
To her delight, he smiled back, "What's up, Chloé?"
Good question. What was up? Take it slow: "Nice weather, isn't it?"
"It's lovely. I've been trying to make the most of the sun while it lasts."
She rolled her eyes, "Tell me about it. I totally hate it when my parade gets rained on."
"In this case, literally," he said, eyes shifting to the left as he smiled and waved to the person who came through the door. Marinette. Speak of the devil, the clouds looming over the parade.
Chloé casually slung her hips to one side, to remind Adrien what a hottie he was talking to and blot out some of the other girl as she passed through to her seat, "Anyway, there's a legit reason why I'm talking to you about the weather, by the way. I'm not, like, boring or British suddenly or whatever."
"Oh, never boring," he beamed, raising his eyebrows at her affectionately.
"Yeah. A drama queen," Marinette muttered.
Magnanimously, she decided to ignore this, "So! It's hot. You're hot. I'm hot. What better way to celebrate this intense hotness than go to the beach, huh?"
"That sounds great! I'll have to check my plans..."
"I bought a new swimsuit and I figured I should get a model's input. Please, Adrikin, you gotta help me, I'm relying on you," she simpered, pushing her body further into its most sensual reach.
"Sounds serious," he joked, "I guess I should clear my schedule."
"Please do. Open invite," she winked.
Marinette's hand appeared on Adrien's shoulder - Chloé took a moment to glare at her - "Open invite? Is it alright if I pop in? I don't want to intrude or anything, but, see, there's a beachy fabric I want to test out, but central Paris isn't really the spot for it. It'd be really helpful if I could come along."
"Marinette," she shot through her teeth, "I don't think-"
"Between a model and a designer, I think you're sorted for your new swimsuit, right?"
Chloé forced her expression into something warmer as Adrien turned to look at her for her opinion. But below, she was infuriated. How dare Marinette talk in that condescending way that was all Chloé's own and perfect it so that it actually sounded genuine, so much so that even Chloé thought it might be so? And how dare Marinette be right? How dare her interests align with Adrien's that much more closely?
She slipped into a smile, "Sure. I'm sorted. I'm done."
"Awesome!"
"It's a great idea, Chloé."
"Oh, and I'm around any time you want to talk about fashion."
She swore to god, she was going to carefully unbuckle her expensive snakeskin belt right there, slip it round Marinette's neck and pull. How dare she? How fucking dare she?
"That's so cool of you to offer."
"I just do my best to live my life generously, you know."
"Yeah. Totes."
Chloé could be generous too. Right now, what the girl needed was a generous slap to the face. And Chloé had a lot of rings stacked on her fingers, a lot of money in her slap to be generous with.
But she kept herself away from that precipice and just kept on smiling. Kill 'em with kindness. Get Adrien and then get the fuck on with her life. Make Marinette miserable.
In the meantime, she could just about manage to keep her hands off her.
"You know," Bee said sadly, slumping into Ladybug's shoulder, "I've always thought I'm the bee's knees, but... I don't know."
"I'd chastise you for the pun but you look down. Want to talk about it?"
"Yeah. If that's okay."
"Of course. Until you're okay, everything you need will be okay with me."
She half-laughed, "Thanks. It's just... I've been quite privileged, I guess. My dad always tells me how wonderful I am - but that's probably just how dads are - and I've always been surrounded by people that look up to me. And maybe the reasons why they looked up to me weren't always positive, but I sort of got used to the illusion of being liked and I didn't really care that much. And I know that sounds awful, but-"
"You were like that as Queen Bee too, in the beginning. But you've changed; I'm sure both sides of you have changed."
"I thought so too. Being hot, being popular, they weren't quite what I cared about anymore. But it's hard to change when a certain thing is expected of you, and there's a little bit of the mega bitch still left. And damn, Ladybug, she's coming out again. I don't mean for it to happen, but I'm just so insecure about the cute guy in my class that I'm coming out all weird again. I hate it."
"What need do you have to be insecure?" Ladybug murmured, running her fingers through her girlfriend's hair, "You've always been hot and now you're learning to be kind. You're smart too, in your way, and you're good. That sounds like a rounded package to me."
"Yes, but there are so many better girls all around me. Like this one girl, she's so annoyingly nice and so obviously more his type and I'm like... desperate I guess, to be this guy's type and I just end up being the opposite. I can't deal with competition. It makes me ugly. And I can't deal with being ugly either."
"Well," she soothed, "That's fortunately not something you'll have to deal with often."
"Yeah, I know I'm hot babe. It's my personality I'm worried about. What about that?"
"It's got potential."
And she kissed the sweet, troubled forehead into calm.
It was a squad joke that Adrien was totally oblivious.
He, at first, had been oblivious to why he deserved that descriptor. He, probably, would never have figured out without any help exactly why they giggled and nudged him and called him that. He supposed it was because he was used to adoration - from strangers, the media, fans, classmates. Some, of course, adored more than others.
Now, he noticed it, the very point of his obliviousness. People liked him, liked him in the way he liked Ladybug except probably less than that because that was real. He didn't know when he had started to notice these external emotions, but he figured it had something to do with his fight with Bee. Something about the way that Chloé and Marinette acted in one another's company reminded him of endless cat fights with the newest hero in their team, and he realised with sharp surprise that his friends liked him. As in like liked him.
And he was free to do the same back, if he so chose.
He had never had much intentions of choosing, to be honest, because his plan had always been to charm Ladybug, nothing more. Now that that was complete, he wasn't sure if there was anything more he wanted, even if he was allowed to, knew his teammates were both wanting more. It would only be fair...
No, he was loyal to Ladybug. Nope.
Except Marinette bore some similarity to his lady love, her dark hair, her blue eyes, her body (not that he looked at it or anything). He could put her on a pedestal, elevate her to a mortal Ladybug, an attainable version of the miraculous mystery he so enamoured. He could definitely see Ladybug her, kiss and covet Ladybug in her. But he didn't have to, couldn't do it besides. Marinette was someone entirely different, someone... entirely as good. She shouldn't be idolised, held distant, because she was ever-kind and sweet to everyone, and dear to him even if she wasn't close. He didn't know her well and didn't feel like they were quite friends enough. They'd got off on the wrong foot and he was still worried about that, but it seemed as though she'd forgiven him. It felt pretty great. She was pretty great.
Chloé though, Chloé was undeniably stunning, the kind of girl that all guys dream about. Her beauty was antipodal to that of Ladybug, sharp and golden, a living vow to glamour. Even Adrien, who was utterly dedicated to Ladybug, couldn't help but admire her as she walked, sat, did anything. It was his model's eye, he guessed. So sure, her personality was abrasive, made him squirm sometimes, but when it tempered, it was nice, held a lovely nostalgic, comforting quality. In a way, she was his closest friend. He held her in great esteem, in an important part of his heart. She was, in a way, as tied to his future as she was to his past.
Just listen to him think, he thought, rolling his eyes at himself, and it was obvious he'd been so starved of love by his father that he was desparate to grab hold of anything that would even blink his way. But no. Adrien wasn't that pliant, he wasn't that needy. He liked them both, but that didn't make him needy. He already had what he needed, right, what he wanted? That was it.
But what about what he could have?
What about that deep and jealous and unspeakable part of him? The thought of adding more tangents to his relationship had irked and unsettled him; the thought of being made smaller and lesser by other people pressed at his greatest insecurities. No thanks, he didn't want any part of that. Even though he wanted Ladybug to be happy, he couldn't help himself, he envisioned her finding another guy with the greatest fear. And so...
No. He was not going to use two of his best friends as a tool to make his girlfriend jealous. He was not going to use them as a safety net if things went wrong. And he definitely was not going to use Ladybug as an excuse to make a move on two girls he really, really liked.
Especially not when they looked so cute in their swimsuits; Marinette in pink and mocha polka dots, Chloé in bronzed skin with a bit of white fabric. A perfect diptych. Dark and pale. Sweet and spicy. Girl next door and the girl from behind gilded gates.
He had to stop thinking like this. It wasn't going to help. It wasn't going to change anything. He was resolved, after all. It was just him, and Ladybug, and-
"Marinette? Chloé? Come here for a sec."
"So," Chat sang, voice wonderfully clear in the cool night, unwelcomingly chipper after a long, strenuous patrol, "How's your love life? Collective love life, I mean, after the little pact we made. It's been a while, you know, and I'm purr-ious."
"Fine," mumbled Ladybug.
"Alright," humphed Queen Bee.
"That sounds less than spec-cat-ular," he said, pulling a theatrical frown, "Wanna talk about it?"
"No."
"That's fine. I don't really care anyway, Bee."
"You haven't got a caring whisker on your body."
"My suit didn't come with whiskers, I'm afraid. But if you want-"
"If it's got anything to do with you, I don't want it."
"And yet," he could not keep himself from grumbling, "You want Ladybug."
"Ladybug isn't yours."
"Ladybug," the girl in question sighed, "Isn't anyone's. I'm not a thing. You can't just talk about me when I'm right here."
"Not to anyone? Not even that lovely boy in your class?" Chat couldn't quite keep the gloat from his voice; he couldn't help it, he was quite simply jealous by nature.
"Not exactly. We're going out now."
The flatness of her tone gave him pause. His frown now was quite genuine, "But you don't sound happy about it, bugaboo."
"Certain... compromises were made."
"Do you want to elaborate... I mean, ela-purr-ate, on that?"
"No. It's quite embarrassing."
"I embarrass myself with my puns on the regular. This is a no-shame zone here."
"I'm shaming you regardless," Bee intoned.
"That's just like you though, isn't it? Regardless. Absolutely no regard."
"Well, I dare say I regard you to be an absolute..."
The dazzling riposte ripe to roll off her tongue died as it hit the air. Then, with a sigh, pulling her shoulders up to her chin, she settled her glazed gaze on the distance. Chat cocked his head. That Queen Bee should lose her passion for an argument just like that... it was almost a cause for concern.
"Something up, Bee?"
"A few things."
"Boy troubles?"
"I suppose not. I got the boy I wanted. If that's what you mean."
Consider him purr-plexed. They had both got what they wanted, and yet they both seemed so bitter. He almost felt vindicated in his prior hesitation to accept the new terms, but that feeling was both fleeting and distasteful. As the self-appointed Most Important Boy in their lives (or, at least Ladybug's), it was his job to get to the bottom of this mystery. And maybe, if the situation called for it, beat up the two boys that had left them feeling this way.
But before he could ask, Ladybug cut in with a question of her own, "It looks like the only one not suffering from boy troubles is you. Unless the troubles are your own. Like, self troubles."
Bee rolled her eyes, "Girl troubles?"
"Hardly."
She raised an eyebrow, "And what is that supposed to mean?"
"I might have... maybe... seduced, or at least sort of gotten into some form of relationship... or, arrangement, with, uh... a girl, or more accurately," he coughed, "Two... girls?"
The air was dead.
Chat rapidly continued on, "Which makes me feel a bit bad, because you were the ones who were hyped for the idea and yet I'm the one who's reaping the benefits right now, and besides, I don't know if we're allowed to have more than one side person, was that part of the deal? So, I'm a bit worried that I've... I don't know... purr-petrated some great and heinous offence."
To his great surprise, Ladybug hesitantly started to laugh, "That makes two."
"Three."
They traded looks across the rooftop. Chat frowned, but it flipped itself into a grin against his will, "How very Communist."
"Seems we're very passionate about sharing here."
"I gotta say," Bee stretched out, admiring her legs as she did so, "Hearing we've all gotten involved in our own other weird triangles makes me feel a lot better about having to share the boy I like with someone I don't."
"Weird! Same here. It's only Chat who's lucky enough to be on the nice corner of the triangle this time. Congrats to Chat," she winked, and kissed him.
Bee's knees shot back up to her chest as she jerked back to attention. Ladybug rolled her eyes and offered her a kiss of her own, but it wasn't that that had gotten her so riled up, "Lucky black cat. Lucky bug. Why do I always get saddled with the short straw?"
Ladybug frowned, "What do you mean?"
"You're the centre of the triangle! You're whining because you have to put up with someone you don't like but I have to do that either way, both triangles."
"You're literally whining right now, hypocrite," Chat rolled his eyes.
"Because it's unfair that I'm always on the bad side!"
"It's because you don't have a good side."
Contemptously, she gestured towards her body, "No good side? Bitch, I look good from every side."
"Didn't think the view from up your own ass would be that great."
"I'm not-! Urgh, for fuck's sake!" she seethed, throwing her hands up into the air, "If you enjoy this so much, you wanna trade places, like, do all this bullshit arguing again with someone else? Or does the leather give you some kind of power kick?"
"Um, guys..."
"No, but I could totally power kick you off this-"
"Try me, dickface."
"Really, dickface? Sounds like your perfect way to spend the night."
"For one, kindly fuck off. For two, maybe I'd actually get some dick if someone let me have what I want for a change."
"You get too much of what you want, you petulant brat."
"You're just bitter."
"Bitter?"
"Because I don't want you. I don't fall for your charms like everyone else. I don't buy in to what you're selling."
"You think I want you to want me?"
"I think you're insecure."
"I think you're insufferable."
"I think-"
"Guys..."
The warning falls limply from Ladybug's lips. She can't stop their momentum this time; Chat and Bee steamroll onwards with every inch, most notably their lips. Bee's hands clutch at Chat's shoulders, his hands tug at the nape of her hair, and they seem just as intent on consuming each other as they do kising. Fury and fancy and frenzy, and a funny feeling in Ladybug's stomach. She feels weird watching them, squirms in her place - but she can't deny that she likes watching.
Chat bites Bee's lip, and she parts from him for a moment, seeming only now to realise, "What are you doing?"
"Connecting the triangle," he mutters, lips drawn back to hers, "Stopping your whining."
This is what he told her, but it wasn't quite right; he didn't quite have a concrete answer to the question, it was as nebulous as the flutter in his head when they kissed. Kissing Bee was... kinda nice.
Whoops.