Itâs been a year since the defeat of Hawkmoth and Adrien and Nino are going out for one last hoorah before Adrien embarks on the next chapter of his life.
But, when Adrien wakes up the next day, with the worst hangover of his life, no memory of the night before, and a series of pictures suggesting heâs just had the best night of his life - He has 24 hours to figure out what happened before he leaves Paris for good.
The first thing Adrien Agreste is aware of when consciousness hits him is the pounding headache.
Itâs what he assumes it must feel like to be hit by a truck. Several times. In very quick succession.Â
And heâs been pretty close to experiencing that in the past so he would know.
The second is the spinning. The sense of the world twirling around him like an out of control top despite the fact that heâs positive heâs stationary.
The third was how difficult it was to open his eyes - and not because he was still dead tired (which he was), but because the damned things were so damn heavy and the moment he did manage to pry one open, he had to shut it tight against the light.
Brightness like that should be illegal.
But despite the desire to curl back up and avoid the reality that was day time, Adrienâs body was awake. Or at least, it was trying to be. Which is more than he could say for his brain, which refused to supply him with a viable explanation for why the fuck he felt as ludicrously awful as he does?
Fine, brain. Be that way.
The blonde huffed out a mix between a sigh and a groan, fighting a sudden spike in dizziness, bringing his hands up to rub his face like the act could alleviate some of the awful in some way.
Only to pause when he found something covering what should have been his skin.
Unsure fingers find and trace the edges, quickly establishing that the obstruction is covering just around his eyes, and tying around the back of his head with silk ribbons.
A mask? Why was he wearing a mask?
Carefully, he untied the mask from his head, grimacing as he lifted it from the pillow for the few moments it took, pulling it off to blink at it blearily; twisting it around in his hands. It was black and mostly plain, but well made - a sturdy material, not cheap plastic.Â
He sat there staring at it for a long while, brow pulling together more and more as his eyes finally adjusted to the light.
What he hadnât adjusted to, though, was the complete lack of recognition. The utter void of âAh-haâs, that should have hit him as his brain finally seemed to catch up with the rest of his body in the waking world. Â
Alarmingly, still, it didnât matter how hard he forced his brain to ponder the mystery. There was nothing. No flashes of memories. No hints to why he had the accessory. Just more confusion.Â
Alright. So whatever heâd gotten up to the night before must have gotten stupid crazy.Â
He didnât have long to ponder that particular train of thought before a sudden buzz made Adrien jump, dropping the mask to the bed - oh, so he was in bed at least, interesting - in the process.Â
A quick glance over to the nightstand revealed his phone dancing across the surface as it vibrated with an incoming call.
Who in the world would be calling this early?
And by early, he apparently meant not early at all, because it was already well after 11 am according to the unfamiliar alarm clock on the nightstand.Â
He didnât even remember the last time heâd slept in this late.
Or why there was a nightstand that looked nothing like his -
Right. Heâd rented a room with Nino. Theyâd planned on going out. There was supposed to be a party or something. Theyâd decided to split a room.
A room that was currently only occupied by him, he realized as he peered around, taking in his surroundings for the first time.
The buzzing of his phone reminded Adrien that someone was still trying to get a hold of him, and he should probably answer.Â
And stop staring at it like it was a foreign concept.
God, how much did I drink last night?
With more effort than should have been necessary, Adrien sat up, grabbing his phone and feeling the now-familiar sense of confusion wash over him as he stared at Ninoâs caller ID.
Without much thought, Adrien hit the video function and waited for the call to connect, showing his best friend staring at the phone like years of tension and fear were being washed away.
And quickly being replaced by anger.
âDUDE! FUCKING FINALLY!! WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?â
In his need to escape the headache that his friendâs tone assaulted, he nearly dropped his phone, thrusting it as far away from himself (without actually throwing it) as he could.Â
God love the guy for being one of the best people the blonde had ever met, loving with every fiber of his being and putting as much of that emotion into everything he said - but damn he could be as loud as his girlfriend sometimes.Â
And the last thing Adrien needed right now was an Alya level of volume.
âDudeâŠStop yelling at me.â The blonde groaned, dropping his own voice as if showing the DJ how inside voices were supposed to work.
Nino narrowed his eyes on him in a glare that didnât have quite the heat he probably meant it to have, âOh excuse me for being a little freaked out that my best friend is missing!â
âMissing? What are you talking about? And where are you? I thought we were rooming together?â
âWe were rooming together. And Iâm exactly where I was supposed to be. In OUR hotel room. Where the hell are you, cause itâs definitely not here.â
Ignoring the returning Alya levels of volume to Ninoâs tone, because frankly, the blonde could only really focus on one problem at a time, he gave Nino his best impression of a fish as his mouth opened and closed a few times as he tried to register what the man was saying to him.
He wasnât in the room theyâd reserved?
âWhat? ButâŠâ he looked around, vision still swimming slightly around the edges but able to focus a bit more on the room itself. It looked just like the room he and Nino had checked into, swanky but modern, every bachelorâs idea of clean-lined luxury as it was accented in woodsy browns and velvety navy blues, but, you know, minus the best friend roommate. âAre you sure?â
He turned back to the phone when he was met by silence only to find his friendâs unamused expression, âYes, Adrien. Iâm sure.â
âSo where the hell am I?â
Adrien had never seen Nino facepalm so hard in the entirety of their friendship, âYou donât know?â
He probably should have been annoyed at the sarcasm, but it was hard to feel anything past the still lingering pulsing pain in his temples, âNo, I⊠I have no idea what happened last night.â Adrien frowned as another wave of pain flashed over his brain at the attempt to remember, and a bout of nausea made him take a few deep breaths.
âWait⊠like at all?â
Instead of replying, uncertain if heâd be able to keep the contents of his stomach from resurfacing, Adrien shook his head, his eyes landing back on the bedside table in the process.
Leaning over, the blonde opened the tableâs drawer, pulling a pad of stationary and a pamphlet from its contents, giving it a quick once over for the address.
An address that matched that of the hotel he and Nino had booked their room at - The Hoxton Paris. He was in the hotel after all.
âIâm in the same hotel.â He leaned over again, ignoring the churning of his stomach as he checked the phone next to the bed, âroom 414.â
âWhy the hell are you two floors up?â
Adrien shrugged, âYour guess is as good as mine at this point.â
Nino sighed loudly giving him a hard look over the line before resigning, âAlright man, get dressed. Iâll come to you.â
Thanking his best friend, Adrien tossed the phone on to the plush mattress behind him before falling back on it himself to stare up at the ceiling.
Somewhere along the night, heâd gone missing and ended up in a completely different hotel room. Scratch stupid crazy - this was some next-level ridiculous.
Get dressed, Iâll come to you.
In the time since waking up, it never once occurred to Adrien to take in his state of dress - or, as he quickly realized as he glanced down with a frown blown into wide eyes, lack thereof.Â
He wasnât naked, but he wasnât in his Sunday best, either. His boxer briefs still covered the necessities, but he was free of anything else.
Which reminded him again that he needed to make himself decent before his best friend came storming in. Which, Nino was bound to do any moment now.
Finding his clothes was a snap as they were draped carefully over the folding luggage rack on the other side of the room, though, just like with the mask, he didnât remember this particular ensemble. Well, he remembered packing it. But he didnât remember putting it on.Â
In fact, the last memory he had was of the more professional sports jacket and lighter collared shirt and tie heâd worn to the last meeting he was going to have in the Gabriel Paris headquarters for the foreseeable future.
Ever - if he had his way.
With a sigh, Adrien pulled the long-sleeved maroon under-shirt on first, pausing briefly as a strange smell washed over him - like bleach. No, that couldnât be right. There were no obvious bleach stains on the shirt, and a quick wafting sample of the rest of his clothes only found that his fitted black slacks were the only other thing that smelled the same.Â
So not bleach⊠but something close to it?Â
Whatever. Too many mysteries, not enough brainpower to piece them together.
Pulling the rest of his clothes on, he had to appreciate Drunk Adrienâs sense of style. It was a clean look, but roguish and darkly sensual too with the mix of maroon under dark grey collared button-up and black jeans that he knew fit him in all the right ways.Â
Though, his favorite piece was the leather jacket still draped over the chair.
It had been something of an impulse buy, not that he didnât have the money to spare.
But the way it zipped up, pockets and zippers symmetrical on either side of the lapels, and the attached belt that buckled around the stomach⊠It reminded him so much of his suit as Chat Noir that he couldnât not have it.Â
On the days when he needed the most confidence was when he pulled out the jacket. Just to remind him of where heâd come from. What heâd accomplished. Who he could be.
Heâd worn the jacket a lot after Plagg had to leave.
A swift tapping at the door to the suite shook the blonde from his memories and he quickly went to unlock the door, to note a little curiously that the additional swinging latch was left undone - not that he could speak much for Drunk Adrien, but Sober Adrien always flipped the swinging latch.
With another quick shake of his head, he unlocked the door to find Nino waiting outside, hands shoved in his pockets, nodding to him in greeting before brushing past him to enter the room.Â
âSo thatâs what you ended up in,â Nino muttered as he passed, giving the ensemble a strange look as he did. A look Adrien really wasnât in the right mind to decipher at the moment.
âI think so? Theyâre the only clothes I had in the room.â He affirmed before trudging into the bathroom and flicking on the lights to take in the damage.
All-in-all, he didnât look half bad for the hangover he was experiencing. He could have done without the blood-shot rimmed eyes, but frankly, heâd had worse mornings in high school after a night chasing after a wayward Akuma, then having to get up only a few hours later for class.
Funny that it felt so long ago that that was a regular occurrence when in reality it was only a short year ago since the defeat of the greatest enemy to Paris.
He shifted his face around under the bright bathroom fluorescents to get a good look at his complexion, noting with a frown how he also could have done without the sickly pale lack of color to his skin. It made the areas where his skin was agitated stand out in blotchy red -Â
Adrien paused as one patch of red on his throat caught his eye and he ran his fingers over the mark.
That was definitely not irritation. Or at least, not the kind from not getting enough sleep or washing his face before bed.
And itâs placement over his pulse point sent something electrifying racing up his spine. Sending heat and pleasant shivers from his toes all the way up to his scalp, soothing the angry headache for the briefest of moments.
Something that felt like a memory. But one only his body could process; leaving his mind with broken fuzzy images - split seconds of movement across his skin that suddenly felt so vibrant that he couldnât be sure he hadnât crawled back into bed.
Adrien closed his eyes and willed those flashes back, clinging desperately to anything that would give him a clue. But the harder he pushed, the harder those memories avoided him.
âUhhhh⊠Nino? What the hell did we do last night?â
At the sound of his panic, Nino came to the bathroom door with a raised brow before his eyes zeroed in on the same thing Adrien had.
The very clear and very permanent lipstick print that stained his skin over what was clearly a hickey.
âYouâre asking me?â His best friendâs brows shot up incredulously, with an expression somewhere between wanting to murder him, and wanting to high-five him?
Emerald gaze met honey in the mirror, âYes. Because we were together?âÂ
That seemed to stun his best friend into silence for a few long torturous moments as the DJ searched his face for something he wasnât finding. âYou⊠you really donât remember anything do you?â
The silence stretched once more, and Adrien was starting to hate the tension building as Nino tried to find the right words to say, âDude, you never showed.â
âThat canât be right.â
Broad shoulders shrugged as Nino shook his head at the mystery shared between the two, âIt can. And it is. Trust - there are a few people a little perturbed with you for ditching your own sending-off party. Myself included. But most of us were just worried that youâd been kidnapped by a rabid fan or something.âÂ
Heâd never showed up to the party?
That explained so much and so very little at the same time.Â
Why would he ditch his friends? Why would he choose not to show up when they were throwing a party for him?
That just wasnât something he would do.
And neither was hooking up with some random stranger.
But, it was starting to look like thatâs exactly what heâd done.
âAlright back it up for me. Start from the beginning. Maybe that will help jog my memory.â
âYeah, alright.â He shrugged, motioning him to follow before plopping himself down in the armchair in the corner of the room, leaving Adrien to sit on the bed, âYou and I left here together around -â
âBut I thought you said I never showed?â
Nino gave him a pointed look at the interruption, âYou asked me to start from the beginning. Let me talk, wouldja?â
Feeling adequately chastised, the blonde nodded, âRight. Sorry. Continue.â
âAfter checking in, you and I left together around six to go grab a bite to eat at a place on the way to the club. We had some food, a couple of drinks, and then left to go to meet up with everyone else at Chez Moune.â
Adrien nodded along as little bits and pieces of the story flashed in his mind. He remembered checking in at the hotel - how relieved he was to just be done with the meetings for a while. He remembered thinking compared to Nino, he felt a little overdressed since he was still wearing his nicer work clothes when theyâd left.
âWe werenât even ten minutes from the club when I told you where we were headed and you told me you wanted to come back and change.â
Given his last train of thought, he figured he knew the answer already, but he asked anyway, âWhy?â
Nino shrugged again, a roll of his eyes accompanying the sarcastic grin over his face, âYou said something about not wanting to be âthat asshole who shows up in the designer get-upâ. But the others were going to start showing up soon, so you told me to head on over and that youâd make it a quick back and forth. You were so adamant about it. Even making a big deal about the mask.â
âYeah. For the club. It was a masquerade theme last night at Chez Moune and most of us were playing along. You were super into it. Are you serious, you donât even remember that?â
It was coming back to him now, he remembered learning about the theme (despite Nino wanting to keep the venue a secret) and wanting to join in the fun. Not to mention, the idea of being able to go out and not be recognized for a night was more than a little appealing. Heâd purchased the mask almost two weeks ago.Â
And from the sounds of it, he must have made it back to the hotel and changed given the outfit he was wearing currently and the mask heâd found still tied to his face when he woke up.
âAlright, then what?â
âYou messaged me that you were on your way back, and then, nothing. That was it. You never showed up.â
âSo⊠between me coming back here to change, and trying to make my way back to the club, I went missing?â
"I guess, man. Iâve been looking for you all night.â
He certainly looked like heâd been running himself ragged all night - something that was beginning to settle on the blonde with heavy guilt for making his friend worry the way he had.
But he still couldnât figure out why he would in the first place. It just wasnât something he did.Â
âIâm surprised you didnât call the police.â Adrien chuckled with a shake of his head, trying to keep the conversation light, trying to avoid the guilt until he could piece together the mystery before them.
He was met with Ninoâs deadpanned expression and tight lined lips.
âOh my god, you didnât.â
âOh no, I totally did.â The wide-eyed expression would have been comical, if the DJ didnât immediately follow the comment up with, âBut they wouldnât do anything because youâre an adult. Told me that if you were still missing by tonight, that I could file a missing personâs report, but given everything, they told me it was likely you just wanted to disappear, fucking assholes.â The DJ added that last bit under his breath, but years of magically enhanced senses in a super-suit left Adrien with better than average hearing.
And he couldnât exactly fault the officers for their assumptions.Â
Gabriel Agresteâs very public reveal as the identity behind Parisâs longest-standing terrorist Hawkmoth had been a major blow. To their family, to their name, to him. He couldnât go anywhere these days without someone recognizing him, and not the same way they used to when his face was plastered on every billboard in the city. Most people didnât say anything, but he knew what they were thinking.Â
How could he live in the same house with that monster and not know?
It was a question he asked himself every single day since.Â
There were more than a few people who actually thought he was working with his father. But through tireless efforts and a raving defense from the heroes of Paris, his own name had been cleared.
That didnât keep people from speculating though.
Couldnât blame them either - if the roles were reversed, heâd probably speculate too.
âHey - I - Iâm sorry man. I didnât mean-â
Adrien blinked quickly, bringing himself back around and giving his friend a reassuring grin, âNo - no, itâs fine. Really.âÂ
And it was. They were. There was no reason for Nino to apologize. He was just worried about him. Like any good best friend would be.
Truthfully, it warmed Adrienâs heart to have someone so concerned about how people treated him.Â
Even a year later, Nino was still the rock and pillar of strength he had been the day Hawkmoth - Gabriel Agreste had been revealed and subsequently arrested.Â
And for the second time, the blonde was having to fight back the guilt for having worried his friend unnecessarily after heâd done so much for him over the last year. Not to mention setting up the party theyâd been on their way to in order to celebrate before he left town.
How the hell was he going to make that up to him?
What kind of friend did that make him to begin with?
Nino sighed loudly, âDonât start with that look. I know what youâre thinking and you need to cut that shit out.â
The DJ leaned forward so that Adrien had no choice but to look him in the eye, âYouâre over there freaking out about the party and trying to make it up to me.â
Okay, either Nino was a mind reader now or -Â
âHow could you possibly-?â
âIâve gotten really good at reading you.â
Oh, okay. Cool. Now he was an open book.
âIâm not going to pretend like Iâm not pissed, but itâs pretty clear something happened and Iâm saving judgment until we figure out what got it?â
It took a moment, but Adrien nodded, knowing that his friend wasnât nearly as angry as he was pretending to be.
âCool. Iâm going to let Alya know that I found you safe and-â he glanced up from having pulled his phone from his pants pocket, eyeing the hickey with a shake of his head and barely contained smirk, âmostly sound.â Â
Oh, that was going to be a fun conversation, Adrien just knew it.Â
If Nino was the rock, Alya was his protective sister/mom, and he was going to get hell from her. First in the form of yelling for making her worry, then in the form of teasing for being a âladies manâ (her hypothetical words, not his).
It was the least he deserved for disappearing though.Â
Which brought him back to the mystery at hand.
âBy the way, you may want to ignore your phone for a bit. Youâre about to get an influx of messages from god knows how many people. I just messaged the whole class - sorry.â The DJ chuckled, looking not at all sorry.
Adrien pulled his phone back out and sure enough, there were notifications a mile long, and only a small handful of them from the last handful of minutes. Which meant that everything else was from the night before. People calling him like heâd been gone for days. Nearly 500 text messages. His social apps were lit up with notifications he was no longer receiving pings for.Â
How had he not noticed last night?
How was he going to go through everything now?
The answer was simple, actually - that was a problem for future Adrien (which was probably what heâd likely thought to himself last night that even led to this mess in the first place).
Right now, though, he was suddenly aware of something he hadnât considered before - he had his phone when he woke up.
So it had been in his possession through the night.Â
Surely thereâd be something to point him to what heâd been up to in the hours heâd been missing.
Hopefully, past Adrien hadnât thought it would be a good idea to clear his app history.
A quick swipe revealed that, no he didnât, and present Adrien breathed a sigh of relief.Â
There were a number of apps still open in the background, listing from newest to oldest, and he swiped quickly through them - a Google search window, his email, the camera, maps, all of which seemed promising, but only one seemed out of place.
Quickly finding the gallery app, Adrien immediately found that past Adrien -Â whatever heâd been up to - was terrible with a camera. The first dozen or so (which would have been the last dozen pictures he would have taken last night) were either too dark or too blurry or just the palm of his hand.
The blonde was just about to give up on the pictures when heâd scrolled a little further down and found another dozen pictures that werenât terrible.Â
And he almost didnât register what he was looking at.
Because he didnât immediately recognize that this was his phone and there were a dozen or so pictures of a man who looked just like him but not like him at all.
Because the guy in these pictures looked like the happiest man on earth.Â
He hummed, barely looking up from his own phone. Completely unaware of the frantic uptick of Adrienâs heart rate as the blonde stared, open-mouthed at the device in his hands.
âI-I think I just figured out why I ditched the party.â
That had the darker man settling his gaze on him with a raised brow, waiting for him to continue.
âAnd how I got the lipstick on my neck. Or⊠at least, I really hope so.â
âAre you going to just keep being cryptic over there or are you going to share with the rest of the class?â
Despite everything, Adrien couldnât help the grin growing over his lips that split into a full-blown manically hopeful smile as he flipped the phone around to show his best friend.
How could anyone blame him for looking like lady luck had personally graced him with her presence.
Because if pictures were to be believed - she had.
Ninoâs mouth fell open at the picture, one depicting the one and only Ladybug with her arm around Adrien (Chat Noir)âs shoulder, leaning in to place the softest of kisses on the masked heroâs cheek.
âI donât know how, but I think I spent the night with Ladybug.â
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