Summary: Luka is running late for a gig, but he won't leave until he finds his lucky guitar pick. (Aged-up characters, established relationship.)
Word count: 1976
Read on AO3
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Luka should have left the apartment five minutes ago.
His partner Camille is already backstage at the venue, and she’d texted him two minutes ago asking him if he was on his way yet. And normally, Luka is prompt. Normally, Luka would be on his way.
Except he can’t find his lucky pick.
Tonight is their first big music gig. In all honesty, they’re indie artists opening for a slightly bigger indie artist, so it’s not as if they’re a music sensation. But it’s a good opportunity, and it pays, far better than the occasional gigs Luka used to play with Kitty Section back in high school, where they usually got compensated with food or free merchandise.
(When Luka finally moved out of the houseboat and into an apartment with Adrien, he’d had to throw out countless free t-shirts that he didn’t need—with the exception of a garish red one that says WE ARE THE CHAMPIGNONS and features Freddie Mercury holding a mushroom like a microphone, which Adrien had insisted that Luka keep. Luka hates the shirt, but he loves the way Adrien smiles whenever Luka wears it.)
Long ago, Luka’s lucky pick was a present from Adrien. Actually, it’s technically not even a present, but it was the first thing that Adrien ever gave Luka, and Luka has kept it all these years because he’s stupid and romantic like that. Never mind that they’re engaged now, and Adrien has given Luka a ring; Luka needs his pick for this gig.
Luka has no idea how he managed to lose it. Usually, he keeps the pick in a tiny box of special belongings. He’d taken it out this morning to practice for the gig, though, and sometime between then and now, it disappeared.
It’s strange, when he’s usually so organized and careful with his possessions. Adrien is the one who can never manage to find matching socks, not even when Luka rolls them together in pairs for him. (To be fair, Luka suspects that Plagg might be the culprit behind that.)
No, Luka is supposed to be the organized one—but, well, they do say that you turn into your parents.
Oh, god. Luka always swore he’d be less chaotic than his mother.
Luka wrenches open the top nightstand drawer and combs through the contents a third time, wondering if he somehow missed the pick. Then he kneels, moving through the other two drawers just as frantically, and comes up equally emptyhanded.
As he stands, he bangs his head off the lampshade looming over the nightstand. It doesn’t hurt much, but the shock of the collision makes him mutter a curse.
“Luka?” Adrien asks. He’s standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with that languid ease of his: the kind that comes from teenage years split between modeling famous designs and moonlighting as a cat superhero. “Are you ready to go?”
“No.” Luka sighs and sits on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t find something.”
“What is it?” Adrien asks. “I’ll help.”
“It’s…a pick,” Luka says slowly.
He’s almost embarrassed to admit that he’s kept the cheap guitar pick all these years, especially when Adrien has given him nicer picks since then.
“Which one?” Adrien asks.
“The…” Luka sighs. “The lucky one.”
Adrien frowns. “A lucky pick? I didn’t know you had one.”
“I’ve never really used it,” Luka says.
It’s strange, when Luka and Adrien have given each other so many gifts and love confessions over the years, that Luka has never told Adrien about the pick. He supposes that deep down, he’s worried that Adrien will think it’s weird or stupid—despite the fact that Adrien loves him, and thinks the world of him, and would never actually find Luka dumb.
But, well—maybe Luka’s still a little haunted by his first girlfriend, who accused him of trying too hard to make everything romantic.
“Well, then,” Adrien says, “how do you know it’s lucky?”
Luka twists his engagement ring around his finger, watching it sparkle in the light. The band holds two tiny green gems, which Adrien has jokingly called snake eyes. “Because you gave it to me.”
“Oh!” Adrien says. “So it’s one of the picks I’ve given you.” He wanders over to the chest where Luka keeps his pants and opens one of the drawers. “Maybe you left it in a pants pocket. Which one are we looking for? And, wait—why is one of them lucky, and not the others?”
Luka laughs. “It’s the first one you gave me. The white one with the black music store logo.”
“That pick?” Adrien says, turning one of Luka’s jean pockets inside out. “But that was a free sample from some store we went to.” He frowns at the pants. “Wait, when did I even give that to you? Weren’t we in lycée?”
Luka smiles awkwardly. “Yeah. We were.”
Adrien drops the pants into the drawer, not bothering to fold them back up, then walks over to the bed and sits next to Luka. “You kept that?”
“I know it technically wasn’t a gift,” Luka says.
“Right,” Adrien says, nodding slowly. “I remember now. You came over to play music with me, but you forgot to bring a pick, and I gave you that one because I had it lying around.” A disbelieving smile tugs at his lips. “You kept that?”
Luka nods. “It’s the first thing you ever gave me. Before we were dating, even. I know it’s hokey and stupid—”
“No!” Adrien says. He reaches down and interlaces his fingers with Luka’s. “I don’t think it’s stupid at all. It’s so sweet that you kept that.” One of his teeth digs into his lip, and he glances away. “I still have the pack of strings you gave me.”
“Wait, like—guitar strings?”
Adrien grins sheepishly and nods. “Yeah.”
Luka laughs. “Adrien, those were for your guitar.”
“Yeah, but then I found out Nathalie had already ordered me some, and I figured if I couldn’t have you as my boyfriend, I could at least have your guitar strings.”
Luka’s heart flutters in his chest, and he runs a finger across Adrien’s hand, feeling the cold metal of Adrien’s Miraculous—which, in a few months, will be replaced by a wedding ring. “You did get to have me as your boyfriend, though.”
“Eventually,” Adrien murmurs. “But it seemed impossible back then.”
Luka raises an eyebrow. “You couldn’t tell that I was madly in love with you?”
“No!” Adrien says. “I’d barely had any guy friends back then, so I thought that was just normal friendship. And my feelings for you started out a lot more subtly than my feelings for Ladybug. Honestly, when I kept those guitar strings, I don’t think I was actually thinking about being your boyfriend.” He groans and leans forward, letting his forehead fall against Luka’s shoulder. “I’m lucky you like stupid guys.”
“You weren’t stupid,” Luka says. He reaches behind Adrien’s head and plays with one of the stray hairs peeking out from his ponytail. “And I don’t care how long it took us. I’m just glad we’re here now.”
“Me too,” Adrien says. He sighs, then leans back. “So, let’s find this lucky pick of yours?”
“I guess I don’t really need it, if you’re going to be there.”
“Charmer.” Adrien pecks Luka on the lips. “We don’t have much time, so let’s get looking.”
For the next few minutes, the two search the bedroom for any sign of Luka’s pick. (Luka takes over looking through pants pockets, because unlike Adrien, he actually folds the pants back up when he’s done.) Even after they’ve scoured the whole room, though, they still can’t find it.
Adrien sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “Are you sure it’s in here?”
“Well, it’s not in any of these dirty socks,” Plagg says.
Luka snorts when he sees the pile of socks on the ground, all extracted from the hamper in the closet. “Thanks, Plagg.”
“Oh!” Adrien says. “The laundry basket.” He kneels on the ground and tugs it toward himself. “Maybe you left it in…ah!” Grinning, he stands up with the pick pinched between his thumb and forefinger. “Your pick, my love.”
Sighing, Luka takes the pick from Adrien and slips it into his pocket. “Thanks. I forgot I changed out of those pants earlier.”
Adrien winks. “Happy to help.”
Luka scans the room, turned upside-down from Adrien’s search methods—that is, if dump everything on the bed can be considered a method. “You realize we’re going to have to clear off the bed when we get back, right?”
“I can clean it up before we leave,” Adrien says.
Luka raises an eyebrow. “Sure you can.” He checks his phone and groans. There’s another text from Camille, asking him again if he’s on his way. “I’m really late.”
“I’ll take you,” Adrien says, closing the closet door. “Quicker than taking the metro.”
“I need to be there in fifteen minutes,” Luka says. “I don’t think you can drive me there that quickly.”
Adrien smirks. “I wasn’t talking about driving.”
“You mean as Chat Noir?” Luka asks. He considers—it’s been a while since Chat Noir escorted Luka somewhere, and he’s certainly never done it as a way to beat traffic. “I guess we don’t really have another choice.”
“Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?” Adrien asks. He saunters up to Luka and loops his arms around his neck. “Don’t you like seeing your fiancé in a hot leather catsuit? Being carried in my big, strong superhero arms?”
“Yes,” Luka says, smiling as Adrien kisses his jaw. “But…” He trails off when Adrien presses another kiss against his throat, and another against his shoulder. “Hey, where do you think you’re going?”
Adrien glances up at Luka, eyes glinting. “I figured we could celebrate finding your lucky pick.”
“Later tonight,” Luka says. “Fifteen minutes, remember?”
“You know I love math,” Adrien says. His lips trail back up Luka’s throat, and then, breath warm against Luka’s ear, he adds, “Three minutes, tops, to get you to the venue. That means we have ten minutes, leaving two to make ourselves presentable.”
Luka groans. “Is two minutes really enough time to apply the amount of concealer I’m going to need?”
“You can always put on some more once you’re there.”
“Camille is going to think we had sex in the metro bathroom or something.”
Adrien pulls back, a scowl wrinkling his nose. “No, thanks. Those are hard enough to transform in.” He wraps his fingers in the front of Luka’s shirt and tugs, taking a step back toward the bed. “Maybe somewhere a bit more comfortable?”
“Great idea,” Luka says. “If only there was a bed we could actually use.”
“What do you…” Adrien turns around and glances at the bed, which is covered with the entire contents of their drawers, plus several jackets and assorted belongings. Snorting, Luka notes that at least the necessary supplies are already out. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Well.” Adrien turns back to Luka with a devilish grin. “Isn’t that what walls are for?”
“The last time we tried that, I almost got a concussion.”
“But you’ve got your lucky pick with you.”
“I don’t think it prevents head injuries.”
Adrien pouts. “Fine. At least let me give you a good luck kiss, to go with your lucky pick?”
“That,” Luka says, leaning close, “I think we can handle.”
Luka doesn’t need his pick to know that he’s lucky, though; in the end, being with Adrien, knowing that Adrien picked him over everyone else, is more than enough.
(He does, however, end up needing an ice pack—because as it turns out, a lucky pick doesn’t prevent Luka's overzealous fiancé from banging his head off the wall.)
So, looking at the Lukadrien June 2020 prompts again, I was thinking about Day One: Supernatural, and I was just musing to myself, not really seriously, but, “What would I do for that if I were participating? Let’s see...vampires? Halloween costumes? But Halloween isn’t really a huge thing in France. Hm. Oh. Mermaids. Wait. Wait! NO! Ah! Plot bunny! Ah! No! I’m too busy for this! No! I’m supposed to be writing other things! Oh...drat.”
So, yeah. I’ve got Siren!Luka and Prince!Adrien, and there’s the ocean and moonlight and sexual tension and just...ugh. I wasn’t even going to do Lukadrien June. You guuuuuys. Look what you did. This is your fault.
<3 :P (Thanks. It’s going to be a drabble collection, by the way. It’s called Song of the Sun.)
