Chapter Text
“Are you lonely, too?”
The question rings through Adrien’s head. It’s midnight. He has a photoshoot for a shoe brand he doesn’t care for tomorrow, but he can’t quite bring himself to drift off to sleep.
Midnight isn’t that late, Adrien attempts to convince himself. Nino sleeps at three in the morning. Alya sleeps-- does Alya sleep?????
Adrien turns in his unnecessarily large bed and sighs. What does it matter what time his friends sleep? Adrien usually sleeps at ten, being an exhausted, growing boy, as well as being responsible for his health, and also, as a matter of fact, he and Ladybug only patrol for about an hour before they return to their respective homes.
Home. Is that what I can call this shithole of a mansion? I love Dad, but he sure does seem like a pompous asshole.
Adrien sighs again. Plagg floats up in front of Adrien’s face and says, “When you’re done with your self-pitying monologue, bring me a piece of cheese. I’ll need it if you’re planning on staying out like I totally know you are.”
Adrien sputters, affronted. “What? I’m sooo responsible, Plagg, I would never…. ha…. pfft…. I wasn’t planning on…”
“Uh-huh. Cheese. Let’s go.”
“Right.” Adrien pads delicately over to his bathroom’s mini-fridge in his bougie-ass slippers and wrinkles his nose at the piece of camembert that he hands over to Plagg. “This shit’s rank. I dunno how you can eat it.”
“It’s delicious, you just have no taste buds.”
Adrien rolls his eyes. “Plagg, transforme-moi!” He tries not to snicker too much at the sounds of protest as Plagg quickly swallows the cheese and is sucked into the ring.
When he is settled comfortably into his leather get-up, he perches gracefully on his open window. The night breeze feels incredible in the otherwise sticky summer of Paris. Adrien shuts his eyes as he leaps across the rooftops, landing delicately on his feet and he lets his feet take him wherever he feels he needs to go.
Adrien reopens his eyes to find himself in front of the Dupain-Cheng bakery.
“It’s a good thing I’m hungry,” he murmurs to himself, and then he drops down onto the balcony of a certain girl’s room.
-
“Hello,” Adrien chirps. Marinette startles and falls off her chair, swearing like all hell and landing flat on her ass.
“What the fuc---- Chat Noir? ”
“Why yes, mon petit chou. T’is I, the Frenchiest fry.”
Marinette’s nose crinkles up and she stares at Adrien like he’s grown two heads. Or eaten a fly. Both, maybe.
“Why are you here?”
Adrien blinks slowly, kind of like a cat. Why is he here? He has no idea. Maybe it’s because he’s hungry, or maybe he trusts Marinette a lot more than he’ll let on, or maybe he can’t stop thinking about the last time they interacted like this, as Chat Noir and Marinette Dupain-Cheng.
Are you lonely, too? Have you also had your heart broken? Adrien thinks about Marinette’s sorrow and loneliness and the way he feels like they share the same problems. He wants to find solace in her.
“I dunno, princess. Do you have leftovers from the bakery? Your lovely guest here is starving.”
Marinette rolls her eyes. Her smile softens into something welcoming and almost familiar. “Wait inside, where there’s actually air conditioning. Bring my sketchbook in too, please. I’ll bring you as much food as I can find.”
Adrien happily scoops up Marinette’s art supplies and organizes them neatly onto her desk. He turns to see Marinette balancing plates piled on high of pastries, croissants, desserts, and more. She places them down on the floor amongst scattered papers, drawings, and fading paint stains.
“Eat up,” she says, seemingly excited. Adrien briefly wonders if she made this herself. He asks her as much, grinning as she flushes and nods her head.
Adrien takes a bite of a flaky croissant, humming delightfully at the fluffy, cloud-like lightness. He licks butter shamelessly off his gloved fingers, enthusiastically putting a thumbs up for Marinette, who claps softly.
He closes his eyes. There’s something really nice about this. Marinette’s computer lights up the room with a dim blue glow and soft indie music plays from her speakers. The window is open just enough for them to hear bugs chirping and singing in the night. Marinette steps around the room barefoot, dancing in her pajamas to the music, smiling ever so often at Adrien. He wonders what idiot is so blind to not want someone like her.
“Chat Noir,” she whispers. She envelopes him in a warm hug, squeezing ever so slightly, to make up for the words she cannot say. Thanks for coming by. Thanks for making me feel like I’m not alone. Thanks for everything.
Marinette sends him off with a box of pastries that he could not finish, and Adrien runs off his high, balancing the food on his arms and trying not to think too hard about a kind girl who waves him away, hastily tied hair bobbing slightly in the summer wind.
-
Adrien wakes up tired, but refreshed. Staying up with Marinette was worth it, will be in the future when he inevitably visits her again. He leaves the house with a skip in his step and grins out the window of the sleek sports car all the way to school.
As he settles into his seat in class, he can’t help but notice Marinette yawning tiredly, stretching all the way out. “Did you not sleep or something, Mari? That’s your fifth yawn in three minutes. You’re starting to tear up.”
Adrien adjusts his bag, trying not to be too obvious about the fact that he’s listening in on Alya’s conversation with Marinette.
“Ah, well, yeah. I slept. For like, four hours.”
Alya shoots Marinette a dirty look, ready to scold her for staying up late, when Marinette suddenly says, “It was worth staying up, though.”
Adrien can’t help but raise his eyebrows in surprise, a look which is mirrored on Alya’s face and in her voice. “Huh? What the fuck were you doing at three in the morning, girl?”
“Ah, Cha-- um--- a boy---- no…. I got a special visit…. from a stray cat.”
Alya stares at Marinette for a solid thirty seconds before Marinette sighs and slumps her shoulders in resignation and embarrassment.
“A special stray cat. That isn’t actually a cat. It was a boy.”
A huge smirk stretches across Alya’s face. “Holy shit, Mari, did you get over yourself and finally ask Ad--”
“No, Alya, what the hell. Also, no, I did not get laid. We just hung out for a while and he ate a whole lot of food and then left.”
Adrien frowns behind his book and turns a page that he definitely did not glance over at all. Is that all it means to Marinette? Do they not have any connection at all?
“.... okay, Alya, you’re kinda sorta right. He’s totally my type--- not that I have a type--- but he’s super cute and I’m happy we’re friends.”
A blush creeps up Adrien’s neck as he flips another unread page. Marinette values their friendship! She thinks he’s cute! Marinette has a type! Adrien mentally pumps his fist in delight.
“Bro, dude, man, Adrien. Why are you totally eavesdropping on the girls?”
Adrien looks up, embarrassed and a little surprised. Nino furrows his eyebrows.
“I wasn’t---”
“Your book is upside-down, Adrien.”
Adrien looks at his book, coincidentally a sappy novel about two friends-turned-lovers, and finds that it is indeed upside-down. Whoops.
He discreetly shoves the book back into his bag, scratching the back of his neck. Is it hot in here, or is he sweating profusely from anxiety and complete embarrassment? Haha, it’s definitely not the latter…
-
Adrien visits Marinette again that night. She has a plate of food already waiting for him, and she’s sitting on her chaise, sketching what seems to be a Chat Noir inspired design.
“A little birdie told me I’m your type,” he blurts in lieu of greeting. Marinette’s head snaps up and she flushes a pretty pink.
“Wha--- I don’t have a type--- you’re not my type--”
Adrien grins and curls up on the floor by her feet. “What’s your type?”
Marinette sighs.
“I’m into blondes,” she says. “I thought green eyes were also a part of my… type…. but I was proven wrong when this bitch I hate pushed me up against the lockers and made out with me. Man, I hate her so much! But she’s hot, so.”
Adrien blinks in surprise. He didn’t think Marinette was into girls, too. How cool.
“Wait, don’t tell me you’re homophobic? Come on, grow up, hero boy. It’s 2019, what---”
“I’m not! That would be ridiculous, considering I’m…. bi….”
An awkward silence fills the room. Adrien realizes, during this awkward silence, that the “hot blonde bitch” is Chloe.
“Happy pride month,” Adrien says, embarrassedly. “I guess I should’ve known from your rolled up sleeves and pants.”
I also should have noticed that my friend from childhood, Chloe fucking Bourgeois, is a closet lesbian--- She definitely doesn’t flirt with me genuinely--- and the way she talks about Ladybug…
Marinette laughs so hard that she rolls off the chair with a thump, directly into Adrien’s lap. She looks up at Adrien and scratches his hair behind his ears. Adrien, to his complete and utter embarrassment, makes a weird purring noise. He swears later that he’ll deprive Plagg of the cheese he so desires.
“Um? Okay?”
Adrien’s entire body turns red. He stutters out an apology that creases Marinette’s eyebrows with worry. “Don’t be,” she whispers. “It’s cute, don’t-- I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
Adrien relaxes and cradles Marinette in his arms. “What’s your type,” she says, suddenly, booping his nose with a pink fingernail.
“Dark hair,” he says, immediately. “Girls and guys. Love dark hair.” He shoves the thought that Marinette’s hair looks a lot like Ladybug’s to the back of his head, because that’s ridiculous and he would never like Marinette like that, obviously.
Adrien talks to Marinette for a good while, rambling dumbly about nonsense, until he feels her head slump further into his arms. He looks down and finds her asleep, snuggling further into his embrace.
There’s a strange warmth in Adrien’s chest that feel different from what he feels for Ladybug. Marinette is different--- she’s soft, and she’s silly, and she feels less idealistic and more real. Marinette listens to Adrien, sees past his bullshit, feeds him yummy food, and smiles at him like he’s the only thing in the world that matters. Like he’s not a picture perfect idolized model boy, like he’s not a horny, flirty jerk. She sees a boy her age, real and exhausted and starved for affection, and she gives him what he needs without him ever needing to ask. He’s interacted with her, what, four times total as Chat Noir? But his heart is soft and pliant and he thinks that, at least in terms of friendship, Marinette is one hundred percent his soulmate.
He tucks her into bed, assuring her delirious, half-asleep self that he’ll be back, don’t worry, I love you too, and he slips out the trap door. The sun rises. Adrien feels like he’s in a movie.
-
Adrien’s visits to Marinette’s home become regular. Marinette waits, sometimes on the terrace, other times in her room. She ‘forces’ her lovely baked goods on him, which he happily eats, and he cuddles with her, because for some reason she’s always cold. Adrien brings her flowers and little things he’s written and small tokens of affection that he’s not sure really means anything, but her face lights up all the same and Adrien feels warm and happy and loved every time.
Soon, Marinette’s room is filled with Adrien’s gifts. He loves the way her room smells--- like bakery and art and girl --- but he’s incredibly pleased when he can start to smell traces of his cologne on the pillow she lent him the other night.
“Hey, kitty,” Marinette coos at Adrien one day. Her fingers scratch his chin and make his skin tingle with delight. “You wanna hear a funny story? A guy asked me out.”
Adrien freezes.
“Don’t worry, you’re gonna get all overprotective just because it’s in your personality, hmm? I said no.”
Somehow, the concept of her saying no bothers him even more. He can hear the “but” hovering over her mouth.
“I said no because my heart belongs to someone else,” she beams. Adrien’s heart sinks.
“Who?” he asks.
“It’s my favorite boy, you know who. Guess.”
Adrien tries not to let out a pained sigh. He feels like Marinette is torturing him with pins and needles. He’s being immature and jealous and dumb and he hates it.
“I dunno? Luka?”
Marinette snorts. “Not even close.”
Adrien keeps it up with guessing random names, becoming more and more withdrawn by the minute. Marinette creases her eyebrow.
“Do you… really not know?”
Adrien shoots her a frustrated look. How would he know who his princess is soOoOoOo into? He’s annoyed.
“Silly cat,” she whispers, carding through his hair. Marinette stops for a moment, fingers tracing his jaw, pushing his face up from where his gaze had dropped from hers. Her eyes sparkle.
“My favorite boy is you, obviously.”
Adrien feels shivers tingle along his spine, and it makes him leap out of her embrace with jerky motions. He feels stiff like a robot, or as unnatural as when his stomach growls in class and he moves quickly to cover up the sound.
Marinette looks at him funny for a moment and begins to laugh really, really hard. “Are you--- pfft, hahaha! Sorry, are--- are you--- are you okay?” Adrien feels weirdly clammy. Why is he clammy? This is very uncomfortable.
“I--- don’t you? Um? Like someone, though?”
The sparkle in Marinette’s eyes dull. She sighs softly, and a wry smile replaces the wide grin that stretched across her face.
“He… we’re just friends. I’m happy just to be there for him.”
Jealousy and sadness takes over Adrien’s body. Why would anyone reject her or ignore her? She’s incredible. Marinette is incredible. She deserves the best. She deserves so much more than some idiot that doesn’t ever look her direction.
Adrien is incredibly torn between whether Marinette is a good friend or something more. He looks down into her eyes. They are filled with an incredible amount of unrelenting love, and Adrien makes a resolve to find out whoever she likes and spray him with water dramatically, like in a Korean drama. Or something.
“Anyway,” Marinette chirps, “you can be my favorite boy without us being madly in love, or something. Like. Best friends. Soulmates. Soul friends? I dunno.”
Adrien smiles a goofy smile and laughs a goofy laugh and he can’t help it, not even when Marinette teases him. Soulmates! Soul friends! He loves Marinette more than anyone, even Ladybug. Even though he’s in love with Ladybug, Adrien doesn’t think he’s ever loved anyone so much.
“Are you hungry? Need any food for when you leave?” Marinette asks out of the blue. Adrien almost declines when he realizes, as he glances at Marinette’s little pink clock, that Plagg has been trapped in his ring as Chat Noir for almost five hours now. He’s gonna punch Adrien in the face with his tiny hands.
“Do you… do you have any camembert?”
Before Marinette can even open her mouth, Adrien scrambles to explain. “It’s--- Ladybug and I, we have---”
“I know.”
Marinette sends him off with a kiss on the cheek and an entire wheel of nasty smelling cheese. Adrien grins giddily the entire way back home, thinking the smell is worth it since he got kissed. It’s only when he makes it home safely and is about to fall asleep that he realizes what Marinette said.