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The large oak double doors open, a heaving exhale echoes through the cavernous hall and a bag is dropped to the floor.
“Home, sweet home.”
“Adrien, you better pick up that bag.”
A sigh.
“I’ve missed you too, Nathalie.”
Since graduating Francois Dupont College, Adrien Agreste had missed six years of life in Paris. Being properly launched into the modeling biz roughly .2 seconds after finishing school, he’d been whisked all over the world by his father with very little prospect of seeing much of the friends he’d made in any of that time. And man, how they’d changed.
Nino, the one friend he never thought he’d see do a complete 180, had opened a jazz bar , Chloe Bourgeois had had an inexplicable turnaround at some point (which, some speculate had to do with her father’s death; others claiming she’d simply finally grown up and met the real world) and was running Le Grand Paris with the help of her former butler Pierre, who had since become her boyfriend and then fiancee (after her drastic life change, that is). His other friends had done fairly well for themselves as well, Alya going on to make a name for herself as one of the best journalists the city could ask for, most of their classmates chasing the dreams they’d had when he knew them and becoming renowned in their fields, and Marinette..
Marinette Dupain-Cheng, in her usual fashion, achieved incredible things under the radar. She’d gone on to be hugely successful in her design career, starting up a boutique located in the heart of Paris that was hugely successful, but rarely took her away from the city she called home. It was her desire to remain as grounded as possible considering her success, and so, Sabine (named, of course, after her mother) stood among the most high end of fashion boutiques, a jewel in the crown of Paris fashion, and simply remained there. Which Adrien found admirable, despite the notion (that’d never really left his head) that if he’d run into her on any of his travels in the time since his departure from Paris, those several years would have been vastly sunnier.
Because he’d never admitted it to anyone (hell, he could barely admit it to himself), but whenever he waxed nostalgic about the city that had raised him, it wasn’t The Eiffel Tower or Notre Dame that tugged at his heart in inexplicable ways, but a girl with pigtails, fierce kindness and sapphire eyes.
Upon settling back into the room that had never felt like his in the house that'd never felt like home, Adrien headed for social media to reach out to his long lost friends. Nino, he sought out first, texting him immediately and setting up lunch at the bakery. Nino had demanded he make a visit back to Paris for a “special act”, as he called it, playing at his bar. “You're gonna love her”, he promised with absolute certainty. Adrien wasn't too sure about that guarantee, but seeing as she only did a show one night every few months, she seemed to be in high demand, and so Adrien couldn't miss it.
Literally. Nino wouldn't allow it.
---
The bell on the door of Adrien’s favourite place jingled as he stepped inside, and the feeling of home that had eluded him for the past six years bloomed in his chest once more at the smell of freshly baked bread, the cozy warmth that always surrounded the shop and the sight of familiar faces milling about the bakery. He headed straight for his best friend upon entering the small store, calling his name as he approached. Nino turned immediately, shouting his name and crushing him in a hug. And when Nino hugged, oh man, he hugged.
“ADRIEN! MY BROTHER!”
“Good to see you too, Nino”, Adrien said-wheezed, really- in response. As the pair broke away, the first thing Adrien’s eyes fell on was the suit.
The SUIT.
“Nino Lahiffe, I cannot believe what I'm seeing! You actually look like you could own a jazz bar!” Nino shot him a look, swatting him on the arm, and Adrien merely laughed in reply.
“I know it's a bit of a change from the t-shirts and caps and everything, but-”
“It's a good change! So, how’s everything? Tell me about this mysterious ‘special act’ you mentioned and give me all the news while I grab something to eat.”
“Oh, Ladybug, man. You’re literally gonna fall in love with her, dude.”
“You know, I think you mentioned that part. Ladybug? Is that her alias?” Nino laughed.
“Yeah, I guess you could call it that. You'll see why when you see her tonight. And trust me, you will be powerless to resist her. She's incredible.”
“Don't you have a girlfriend?” Adrien teased. Nino’s smile became bashful, and Adrien had to stifle a laugh at the immediate change that occurred in Nino literally any time Alya was brought up. Ever since they'd officially gotten together, he'd been head over heels. He even indirectly named his bar after her- Divinity, the inherent meaning of Alya’s name. At first it'd felt almost sickly sweet to Adrien, but now, it just made him smile. Nino was honestly, literally in love with this girl.
“Hey, I'm just speaking objectively, brother. You know I'm always gonna believe I've got the best woman in Paris already”, Nino replied, almost smug in his pride. Adrien laughed.
“Believe me, I know.” Adrien smiled wide at Sabine as he approached the counter, finally first in line, and she welcomed him warmly.
“Adrien! It's been so long, we've missed you!!” She came around to give him a warm hug, then turned to Nino, a cheeky grin on her face. “I think a certain mutual friend of ours might have missed him more though”, she said almost conspiratorially to Nino, shifting her wicked grin between the two boys. Nino’s expression practically mirrored hers, while Adrien's transferred from confusion, to understanding, and then to embarrassment, his mouth forming a small O and his cheeks reddening slightly.
“Oh, I doubt that, Sabine”, he responded quietly, bashfully. Sabine merely chuckled, heading back to her side of the counter and ringing up Adrien's items. He paid quickly, and as the pair walked away Nino put a hand on his friend a shoulder with a sigh.
“Still refuse to believe it, huh?”
“What?”
“How many times did I tell you that you and Marinette could have had something incredible if you'd just told her how you felt? The girl was head over heels in love with you! And you were exactly the same!”
“No, I- she never, that is- we-” He sighed. “I just couldn't risk ruining things, Nino. You remember Formal.”
“I know, man”, Nino replied, pulling a face.
By the end of Year 10, Adrien had pretty much accepted it. He had a crush on Marinette. A crush that had only grown as she became more and more comfortable around him, that, ironically, had a tendency to turn him into a blushing, stuttering mess every so often the way that it had her.
He’d wondered, of course, if a crush on her end had ever been the reason for her nervousness around him, and when he began to see the same patterns of behaviour in himself he was sure she must have liked him, at least early on.
The problem was, the more comfortable she became, the more platonic things began to seem between the pair. Gone were the shared blushes any time their hands accidentally made contact; in their place, words and gestures so perfectly friendly he wasn't sure whether to rejoice because he'd achieved such a close friendship with someone so wonderful or cry because it seemed friendship was all it’d be.
Then, in the months - literal months, that's how heavily he'd anticipated the night - leading up to their Year 11 Formal, he planned out to the letter exactly how he’d put his fears aside and ask Marinette to be his date. On that fateful day, however, he walked into class radiating excitement only to find Marinette standing by a blushing Nathanael's seat, listening with a soft smile and a pink glow to her cheeks, as Nathanael discussed his concerns about finding a suit worthy of standing beside her in what he was sure would be a magnificent dress. Her smile turned bashful, and she laid a hand on his shoulder.
“Maybe I can help you out with that? I'll design my dress and pick a colour, and then we can have a look for a suit for you that'll work with it”, she'd offered brightly. Nathanael beamed, his cheeks resembling his hair as he scratched the back of his neck. Adrien would have turned and left the room right then if he could.
In a way it made his heart swell with love and pride. Marinette had always been one of the most gracious, kind people he'd ever known and he was happy for Nathanael in a way. But that didn't stop the sting, or numb it in any way when the night came, and Marinette, radiant in a midnight blue dress that sparkled like the night sky, laughed gleefully along with a practically ecstatic Nathanael as they danced goofily to the fast songs Marinette's heels wouldn't allow her to pull off gracefully. God, he'd wished that was him.
Afterwards, things had returned to the way they were, and Marinette and Nathanael's friendship remained only that, but Adrien still couldn't find the courage to tell her how he felt. It had seemed that whatever feelings she may have had were long gone.
Sometimes, though, he'd wonder. It was as if her affections waxed and waned, strong and sure for a season and then almost nonexistent the next, and he couldn't figure out why. Eventually he'd settled on the theory that none of it had been the case at all, and he simply managed to convince himself he was seeing the picture he wanted to, rather than the truth. After that, he stopped trying.
Now that he was back, though, and he’d thought of little other than her while he was gone, and she’d no doubt grown to be even more stunning than she was before, he was pretty sure he’d cave to his own feelings the second he saw Marinette again.
“So”, Adrien started, clearing his throat and praying he wasn’t still red, “is, uh- is she around?” He’d tried to feign a casual interest, but he knew Nino saw right through him. He laughed loudly, shaking his head at Adrien.
“She told me she’d be working all day today. Sorry, man. She doesn’t know you’re back in town, either, I think.”
“Oh, we should go surprise her at work, then!”
“Oh, no, no she’s reeeeally busy! But she’s got a day off tomorrow, and I’ve already set up lunch with her and Alya”, he finished with a smile. Adrien had caught the hasty cover up attempt, but decided he’d let it slide. Nino clearly had some sort of trick up his sleeve, and Adrien thought it might be more fun to play along than to get the truth out of him before this mysterious surprise unfolded.
They spent their day wandering, mostly, visiting old friends and catching Adrien up on everything he’d missed. Then Nino had to be at the bar early, which left Adrien to his own devices. The hours ticked away slowly as he tried to sleep off the jetlag, until, finally, Adrien could find something to do in getting ready for the show. He knew it was a classy place, (I mean, Nino was regularly wearing suits thanks to his job there) so he made sure to dress accordingly. As he surveyed his reflection, his thoughts drifted, surprise, surprise, to a certain girl with blue eyes who had, in his absence, grown into someone even more beautiful than she’d been before. (He wouldn’t say he’d been stalking her on Facebook, but…)
He wondered if she’d be there, if they’d have the chance to speak. Mostly, though, he wondered what she’d think of him. When they’d graduated, and he was about to leave, she was one of the few people to question his decision, knowing that the career path he’d been handed as a child was not what he really wanted for himself.
“I know your father’s a tough guy to reason with”, she’d said, “but you deserve the chance to chase your own happiness.” He wondered, not for the first time, how things might have turned out if he’d said that his happiness depended a lot less on his career and a lot more on Marinette Dupain-Cheng. With a sigh, Adrien shook his head, grabbing his keys and jacket and heading out. Even if he didn't see her tonight, he thought, hopefully he'd be too distracted to notice the ache in his heart that had sat somewhere dormant for the past six years.
-----
Marinette took a deep breath, rolling out the tension in her shoulders and smoothing out her dress as she waited side-stage. She was pretty proud of this one: a knee length, velvet, crimson wonder, with sleeves down to her wristbones, a neckline that swept across her shoulders, forming a slight sweetheart as it met in the middle, and a bodycon silhouette that hugged her slender frame in the best way.
“Oh, honey. This one is gorgeous!” Marinette turned to find Alya approaching, arms out.
“Which one; yours or mine? I knew ivory was the way to go this time. You look stunning!”
Alya twirled, the flared skirt of her taffeta, tea length dress doing its job perfectly, and beamed as she and her lavender heels came to a stop.
“Why thank you! Although I can’t take the credit- you’re the mastermind behind this entire creation, as usual! And girl, your dress! You look incredible! This might be your best one yet!” Marinette blushed, smiling bashfully as she grabbed tonight’s mask: a simple one, with a solid black base overlaid with black lace, that fell off the edges in an asymmetric trim. Despite being a fairly basic design (at least, in comparison to the extremely intricate lasercut designs she’d come up with), she was happy with it. Marinette had never cared so much about hiding Ladybug’s identity that she would take drastic measures, so it wasn’t uncommon for people to see beyond the masks and/or put the pieces together, but the game of Guess Who had become a tradition shared between her and the people of Paris, and she found keeping up the charade with a decent mask to be more fun than ditching the disguise altogether.
“You ready?” Alya asked, handing her a water bottle. She took a swig, careful not to tarnish her meticulously applied scarlet lipstick, and nodded. At that moment, Nino approached the pair, sliding his arm around Alya’s waist and beaming at them.
“I suppose that’s my cue then!” He cleared his throat, stepping out onto the stage to welcome his patrons and introduce Ladybug to Paris once again.
“Give it up for Ladybug, everybody!” As Marinette walked forward, shooting Nino a smile as she passed him, she waved out to her mostly-shadowed audience, taking her place before the vintage mic stand positioned at center stage. She took a final breath, closed her eyes and almost choked on the first word of the song.
Because sitting right in front of her, back in Paris for the first time in years and looking at her with an expression she'd never seen and couldn't decipher, was Adrien Agreste.
Marinette made a smooth enough recovery, her eyes flicking away immediately in an attempt to summon the Ladybug courage she's had every show before this one, and began to sing, trying not to focus on how incredibly relevant each line was.
“ Everybody loves the things you do,
From the way you talk to the way you move
And everybody here is watching you
Cause you feel like home
You’re like a dream come true
But if by chance you’re here alone
Can I have a moment before I go?
Cause I’ve been by myself all night long
Hoping you’re someone I used to know.. ”
It was pretty well useless. Every word and line that reminded her of Adrien had her disobedient eyes sliding back over to the green ones that had been her undoing that night under an umbrella all those years ago. She told herself it was justified, because they were friends. You were allowed to miss a friend the way she’d missed him, right? You were allowed to look at a friend the way she did him. Right?
Besides, she’d never seen the look that was on his face as she performed. Was that shock, or something like awe? Regardless, she could barely keep her eyes off it or him. She hoped against hope that she could pass it off as part of the act, the alluring persona she’d adopted as Ladybug shining through as her gaze found various men in the crowd, but really, that gaze wanted him and only him, and once she was back behind the curtain, the illusion was gone and shock was written all over her face.
“Girl, you were incredible tonight! Give me a hug!” Alya was beaming as she embraced Marinette, but she couldn’t share her friend’s excitement just yet.
“Did you know he was coming?”
The brunette’s grin became a smirk. “So you saw him, then?”
“I’ll take that as a yes. Alya! How could you keep that from me? What if I’d had a meltdown in the middle of the stage because of him?! I literally found him in my first song. Right at the start of my first song, at that! What if I couldn’t recover?”
“But you did, just like I knew you would! Girl, you gotta calm down! I didn’t tell you, because I knew you’d get yourself all worked up and terrified before your performance, and I wouldn’t be able to shake you out of it. But if you found out once you were already out there, I knew you’d get past it. You know why?”
Marinette huffed. “Why?”
“Because Ladybug is not Past Marinette. And Present Marinette isn’t Past Marinette either. You’re not the 16 year old who couldn’t talk to him without your cheeks turning the colour of your dress anymore; you’re a performer, and a damn fine one at that. And you just proved that to everyone, including him! He’s probably drooling over you right now.”
“I highly doubt that, Alya.”
Alya rolled her eyes with a laugh, taking her hand and leading her out to the bar. “Well we’re about to find out, aren’t we?”
Marinette sighed, knowing her chances of escaping Alya’s pushing were slim to none.
“I’m still mad at you.”
“I know.”
“Like really? That song, of all first songs to ever sing in front of the guy?! No wonder you advocated that one so heavily.”
“Oh, quit your grumbling! I don't know if you saw what I saw out there, but if you did I think you know as well as I do that that song choice was perfect.”
-----
Marinette was Ladybug.
Adrien supposed it made sense, given all of Nino’s secrecy; and he could tell the moment her eyes found his, so the reveal itself wasn’t such a shock to him. What he hadn’t been expecting, though, was.. Well, everything about her. The Ladybug was the most alluring person Adrien had ever been faced with; everything about her was simply stunning! In her high school years Marinette had always been someone Adrien adored and found attractive, but the newfound confidence she projected as Ladybug made her utterly irresistible. And pair that stage presence with an incredible vintage persona and a sultry voice Adrien didn’t even know she had, and well… By the time she left the stage he’d been rendered speechless, reduced to a slack-jawed, blushing mess.
“Okay, pretty boy, you can pick your chin up off the floor now!” He heard beside him. Finally snapped out of his trance, he turned to find Alix smirking at him, and his old classmates surrounding him barely able to stifle their laughter. He then noticed Alix gesture behind him, and immediately he knew he had to regain at least some of his composure.
He turned to find himself face to face with Marinette, a bashful smile illuminating her face as she stood before him.
“Adrien. I didn’t know you were back in Paris.”
“I, uh- well..” As he stammered and stuttered, Marinette ducked her head, a blush rising to her cheeks beneath the lace that matched his entirely, and Adrien had to laugh at himself.
“Sorry I’m so.. Well..” Embarrassed? In awe? In love? “I just, I’ve never seen you like this before. You look incredible! And I didn’t even know you could sing like that!”
Marinette shrugged, but her deepening blush and widening smile gave her away. The praise, though unexpected, was far from unwelcome.
The pair sat down at the table full of friends, but their eyes never left each other as they chatted. Their group remained thoroughly unsurprised by that fact, and, unbeknownst to them, were perfectly happy to observe, laugh and speculate on how long it’d take the two of them to actually get together.
Marinette and Adrien talked about everything under the sun; what they’d done with their lives since graduating, the thoughts Adrien had been having about giving up modeling for a career he was actually passionate about; even their relationship statuses. (Adrien, of course, was delighted to discover Marinette was as single as she had been when he left.) And eventually, he even worked up the courage to nervously ask her to dance.
A smooth trumpet guided their steps as they swayed slowly on the somewhat full dancefloor, their eyes never leaving each other’s (no surprise there). In her short heels Marinette stood only centimeters shorter than Adrien, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed the gradually lessening gap between his lips and hers.
“So,” she began, cheeks tinted a pale pink as she looked up at Adrien through her lashes, “you think you'll ever use your talents in here? Show that old pianist how it's done, and all that?”
“Me? Oh no, I…”
“Really, never? Don’t tell me you’re shy!”
“Well, I-”
“Adrien Agreste, you are talking to the shyest person you knew back at Dupont. Who just performed an entire set! I know about overcoming shyness. How else do you think I managed tonigh- um, anyway. You’ve been in the public eye all your life. This is not even close to the same thing, in fact, I’d imagine it’s vastly less terrifying. Adrien, you’ve got such an incredible gift! I know teaching is where you want to use that but don’t limit yourself to only that simply because this is a new kind of fear for you, okay?” Adrien smiled, taking in her words.
“Now I remember why you were class captain. You’re good at this whole persuasion thing!”
Marinette grinned. “What can I say? I know talent and potential when I see it and I refuse to let it go hidden. So, what do you say? Have I swayed you?”
Adrien paused for dramatic effect, a hand on his chin as he pretended to consider her stance, the smile on his face growing all the while.
“Only if I get to duet with the infamous Ladybug!”
Marinette laughed, her head tipping back and her eyes aglow, and Adrien drunk in the sight, imprinting the memory into his mind. “Okay, sure”, she said finally. “I expect you to have come up with your own alias though!”
As their laughter died down, Adrien found himself once again (surprise surprise) caught in her gaze, and was reminded of the years of pining and missing and dreaming of something like this. A part of his brain begged him not to say the words on his lips, fear of rejection pleading its case against the question he so desperately wanted to ask. But after something like 8 years of wondering “what if?”, Adrien couldn’t hold the question back.
“Marinette..”
“Hmm?”
“That first song.. was that..”
A look of fear overtook Marinette’s features, and instead of answering, she leant forward and pressed a soft, hesitant kiss to his cheek. When she drew back, an unmistakable sadness lingered in her eyes that broke him.
“I can't… really do this tonight. Not when it's been so nice. Please?”
A part of Adrien wanted to press. After all those years he could barely keep a confession at bay, regardless of whether it'd be met with one in return or not. But on the other hand, this was Marinette. He'd probably do or not do whatever she asked of him, and this was no different. If she didn't want to have this conversation now, he'd leave it. He nodded, for once praying he was as transparent as everyone seemed to think he was, and that she'd be able to see and recognise the tenderness in his gaze.
“Okay. But… at some point, please.” She looked conflicted, but reciprocated the nod.
As the night drew on the bar thinned out, until Nino and Alya and the staff closing up were the only ones left, and still, they kept dancing.
“Alright, you two lovebirds, I gotta close up shop.” The pair turned to find Nino smirking at them, an arm wrapped around his girlfriend’s waist. Unsurprisingly, her expression mirrored his, and under their knowing gazes Adrien felt himself growing red yet again. The blushing pair separated and Adrien grabbed his jacket from the chair it sat on, then returned, holding his hand out to Marinette.
“I’ll walk you home?”
“You don’t know where I live”, she giggled.
“I-well, be that as it may-” he floundered for an excuse.
“Safety in numbers”, she provided for him, smiling cheekily.
“Y-yes, yeah. Besides, I’ll be walking back to the hotel too, so we may as well walk together.”
The walk, unlike the past several hours, was quiet, but comfortably so. The pair would cast shy smiles at each other every so often, and it was all Adrien could do to not connect their closely swinging hands as they walked. Within about fifteen minutes they'd reached Marinette's new apartment, and she turned to Adrien with a friendly smile, gesturing to her door.
“Well, this is me. Want to come in?”
“I’d love to, Mari, but to be honest this jet lag is killing me. Another time?” It was a lame excuse, but the longer Adrien spent with Marinette the more difficult it was to resist the temptation to take her in his arms and show her exactly how much he'd missed her. She nodded, her smile barely faltering.
“No problem. Another time.” She reached up to hug him, her arms snaking around his neck and her perfume wreaking havoc with his senses. He breathed it in, a sigh escaping his lips, and he knew. He was smitten all over again. He could hardly deny it to himself any longer.
They pulled away, Marinette opening her door and turning to head inside, and Adrien turning away to leave.
He stopped. He had to.
“Marinette?”
“Hmm?” She turned back to look at him.
It’s too soon. You just got back, you can't throw a confession like that at her within one day. With a sigh, he smiled. “I've really missed you, Mari.”
Her smile grew in return, her eyes softening. “I've missed you too, Adrien. I'm glad you're back.”
With a wave, Adrien turned to leave, and a few steps later, heard the soft close of her front door. He turned immediately at the sound. He couldn’t help it.
Marinette had made it clear she didn’t want to talk about where they stood, and whether that was because she believed it to be one sided on his end or hers, she didn’t know. But despite the time they still had ahead of them, time that could be spent confessing and pouring his heart out, he’d already waited too long. He needed to make his feelings known.
He ran the few steps back to her apartment and raised his hand to knock on the door, but didn’t need to. It opened swiftly before his eyes and Marinette stood before him, looking every bit as stunned as he was.
“Adrien”, she all but breathed.
“I had to, um-”
“Yes?”
His hands found her cheeks before he’d even registered they were moving, a direct response to the whispered request.
“I’m in love with you.”
Marinette gaped in response, eyes and mouth wider than he’d ever seen them, and despite the unease her shock created in him, he pushed on.
“I’ve been in love with you.. for.. a long time.” Still, she gaped.
“I know you didn’t want to talk about this tonight but I just couldn’t not say it after something like seven years and would you just please say something?”
“I… You…?”
It’d been a long time since he’d seen her like this, rendered incapable of speech because of his influence, and for what felt like the millionth time, every part of him hoped that meant what he wanted it to. Then all at once, her mouth turned upward and the biggest smile he’d ever seen on her overtook her features, joy illuminating her face.
“I win.”
Not exactly the response he’d been expecting.
“Pardon?”
“Seven,” she began, pointing at him. Then, as she pointed to herself, her grin grew smug as anything.
“Eight.”
And then she kissed him.