First shot at a Klance fic ever! Gigantic thanks to the baes for kicking my butt and pushing me to write when I was struggling with writer’s block! @thecookiemonster77 @totallynotapumpkindonut
Summary: When the green lion goes through a wormhole and Pidge is turned back into a baby, Keith and Lance are chosen to take them on a safe planet and act as their guardian until the team finds a way to turn them back.
Aka the “fake married with a baby” AU literally nobody asked for!
Pairing: Lance/Keith
Read on AO3: here
Chapter 1: The Wormhole Incident
Lance knew something was wrong as soon as he set foot out of his lion.
The castle was silent. The castle was never silent, especially not when the team was coming back from a mission, as they had just done. The hangar was usually drowned in a cacophony of sounds; Of gears clicking in the tired lions, of cheers from his teammates celebrating yet another victory from Voltron, of voices excitedly recalling vivid memories of the battle they had just escaped.
But this time, there was nothing. No gears, no voices, just the resonating sound of Lance’s boots on the floor of the empty castle.
Lance walked with caution deeper into the twists and turns of the halls, Bayard in hand and ready to draw his weapon at any sign of danger. But instead of potential enemies, he was greeted with familiar hushed voices when he approached the control room.
“Guys?” He asked, entering the room and seeing his teammates huddled around with their backs turned at him. “Hey guys?” He pressed more urgently, feeling the palpable tension in the room.
Hunk finally turned to face him, looking openly relieved to see his friend, yet with noticeable worry etched on his face.
“What’s going on?” Lance asked, dreading each footstep as he got closer to the group. Whatever it was they were shielding him from, he knew from the gutting feeling in his stomach that it couldn't be anything good.
Hunk hesitated. “It’s Pidge…”
Lance’s heart dropped, and with it his Bayard as it slipped through his suddenly still fingers and went clattering to the ground.
With those two words, Lance felt his world collapsing around him.
The mission had be benign at first, and lulled by that false sense of security it has already been too late when it had finally dawned on the team that this was yet another trap from the Galra army. They had been separated, with no way to communicate with each other until they finally reached the castle again.
It wasn't the first time this had happened, and the team knew it certainly wouldn't be the last. They had battled through worse, more than once, and Lance hadn't thought anything would have gone wrong. He had seen all the lions back in their regular spot in the hangar, and he’d thought everything was just as usual… He had assumed…
“Are–” He tried to speak, but the words were clawing at his throat when he tried to get them out, as if none of this would be real until he asked the question whose answer he suddenly dreaded so much. Denial sure did wonders to his sanity. “Are they hurt?”
Hunk shook his head softly, but something in the way his eyes narrowed in grief made it pretty clear that things weren't alright.
“The green lion got caught in a wormhole.” Hunk explained. “The same type Allura went through last time we got separated…” He paused, carefully picking his next words. “The castle managed to lock onto the lion’s signal, and Allura managed to pull them out pretty quickly but…”
“What happened?” Lance pressed. He had to know, he needed to know. “Is Pidge okay?”
A flash of panic passed through Hunk’s eyes as his mouth gaped open and close, unable to explain any further.
“Something went south in the process,” Coran cut in, and Lance realised that the whole team’s attention was now on him. “The lions don't have the same defence mechanisms as the castle, and it wasn't able to undo the damages from the wormhole…”
“Are they okay ?” Lance asked again, the edge in his voice growing sharper because they still weren't giving him a proper answer.
“Strictly speaking, Pidge is fine.” Coran answered, keeping his composure. With a sigh, he added, “Well I guess it's pointless to try to explain this, you might as well see for yourself.”
And with that, Coran stepped out of the way for Lance to see what the group had been hiding from him.
At first he was confused, seeing no signs of Pidge anywhere. The healing pods behind the team were all empty, and Lance just couldn't see the green paladin amongst his friends.
Then he noticed it. The small bundle in Shiro’s arms. It had looked like a messy pile of laundry at first, but the closer Lance looked the more familiar the white and green fabric seemed. And then the bundle moved.
Lance gasped, quickly closing the distance between the rest of the group and him until he was standing right in front of Shiro, looking down at the tiny creature in his arms.
Was that a baby?
Looking closely, there was no denying that it was in fact an infant child cradled in Shiro’s arms. An infant child with moppy strawberry blonde hair and familiar round glasses that suddenly looked ridiculously oversized for the child’s tiny chubby face.
“Is… Is that Pidge?”
“I'm afraid so,” Allura nodded sadly. “The wormhole had similar effects as the one we’ve been through during the last attack. It somehow reversed Pidge’s growth and age back into infancy. The same thing happened with Coran last time, but the castle’s defences were able to reverse the effects as soon as we pulled away from the wormhole. The lions’ defences are much weaker, and although they do just fine protecting their paladins against enemy fire, it doesn't do good against space-time anomalies.” She looked down at the baby with a worried frown. “Thankfully the castle managed to lock onto the green lion’s position and pull it out of the wormhole before it was too late, otherwise the result would've been disastrous. Unfortunately there was not much that could be done regarding Pidge’s… Current situation.”
Lance blinked. “So…” He tried again, desperately trying to wrap his brain around the idea. “Pidge is a baby now?”
He gave another look at the child, who was now trying to wiggle itself free from Shiro’s embrace. The paladin let them down gently, making sure that they were stable enough on their feet. Immediately the child went waddling around the group, with the dubious balance and fierce determination of every child eager to explore their surroundings.
They couldn't have been older than one, give or take a few months—if Lance’s previous encounters with babies were anything to go by.
“Pidge is a baby now…” He repeated softly, as if turning that phrase into a mantra would somehow give it any sense at all.
“Wait a second.” Keith interrupted. “We don't know for certain that this is Pidge. All we know is that when the green lion came back Pidge was gone and that thing had taken its place.” He sent a distasteful glare towards the child who was still too busy wobbling around the room and numbing into every piece of furniture on its way. “For all we know this could be yet another trick from Zarkon.”
All eyes turned towards the baby, and Lance was seemingly the only one to note Keith’s use of the word “thing”. Did Keith hate children?
Lance grumbled quietly. Of course, leave it to Keith to think he’s too good for kids. Dumb, stupid, too cool to like babies Keith. Typical.
“It wouldn't be the Galras’ weirdest attempt yet.” Hunk admitted, eyes still on the child. There was a hum of approvement from the rest of the group.
“Wait are you all just going along with Keith’s dumb nerd conspiracy theory?” Lance gasped, seemingly scandalised with the idea.
“It's not just a dumb suggestion, Lance.” Shiro frowned at him, using that stupid dad-voice Lance hated so much. “We have to keep in mind that there's a real possibility that—”
“Are you all out of your mind?” Lance shrieked, hands flailing widely. “This it's just any baby, it's Pidge ! They’re a paladin a Voltron, like us! The green lion chose them and doesn't respond to anyone else! If Zarkon had tried to pull a swap, the lion would've felt it and that random lookalike baby’s butt would've been thrown into deep space before we’d even realised what was up!”
“Lance does have a point…” Allura seemed to begrudgingly admit. “It seems almost impossible that anyone other than Pidge could've entered the green lion, let alone make it this close to the castle without at least a few alarms going off.”
The group turned to the baby, as if hoping it would give them an answer. Seemingly unaffected by the newfound attention on them, the child kept making its way around the room, stopping only when it came across the shell of a dismantled sentry Pidge and Coran had been in the process of dissecting before the attack. With a happy little gurgle, the child picked up a piece of hardware laying around and immediately started chewing on it.
The rest of the group seemed to agree, feeling some of the tension in the room being relieved now that there was no more doubt that this baby was in fact their teammate.
“What do we do now?” Shiro asked, bending down to pick up the baby and pull the piece of alien tech out of its mouth.
The child started squirming in protest, making grabbing motions towards the hardware and letting out angry wails that grew higher and higher in pitch and volume with each passing second.
Shiro looked just about as distressed as the baby, holding it at arm’s length and looking just as close to tears as it was. Lance took a moment the enjoy the amusement of knowing that in spite of all the running dad-jokes they had about him, Shiro was apparently terrible with kids.
Finally agreeing to put him out of his misery, Lance walked over and picked up baby Pidge from Shiro’s hands, cradling them closer to his chest and making bouncing motions with his body in rhythm with gentle cooing.
When the baby’s cries finally calmed down, Lance looked up to find the rest of the group staring at him with wide unbelieving eyes.
“What?” He asked defensively. “Hey, babies love me, no big deal! I'm used to them because of my siblings and they work wonders when breaking the ice with pretty ladies.” The wink that followed was greeting with a chorus of groans from the team. “Nevermind that!” Lance protested, trying to ignore the slight flush of embarrassment on his cheeks. “What are we gonna do now? Can't we just stick Pidge in the healing pods?”
Coran was the first to regain his composure. “I'm afraid not. The pods only work for external injuries, and aside from losing a few of your humain ‘years’ it does not seem like Pidge was wounded in any way!” He explained. “By all accounts, Pidge is perfectly healthy, just… Younger.”
“What about the castle?” Keith asked. “You said earlier that the castle reversed the effects of the wormhole on Coran, can't it just do it again?”
“It’s not that simple,” Allura shook her head mournfully. “Last time the castle was in the wormhole at the same time as Coran and I. For it to work, the castle should've been wired onto the wormhole frequency at the same time as Pidge was going through it. We caught the green lion much too late for the castle to record anything that could help us.”
“We can't work by trial and error, either.” Coran added. “If the numbers aren't perfect this could have disastrous effects! We could further Pidge’s age regression until they simply ceased to exist! And even if we did manage to reverse the process, there's a real possibility that we could miss Pidge’s timeline by decapheebs entirely!”
Lance wasn't too sure what decapheebs were , exactly. His knowledge of altean measurements stopped after quintents, but from the context he could easily guess that it wasn't something he was eager to find out.
“What about the green lion?” Hunk asked. The team turned their attention on him. “The lion went through the wormhole as the same time as Pidge. Don't the lions’ databases record everything? Like one of those airplane’s black box? Maybe if we can view the data from the moment Pidge passed through the wormhole we can get the exact frequency we need to reverse Pidge back to their original age?”
Allura seemed to consider it for a minute, before she nodded. “With the right frequency to wire the castle on, we can force a similar pattern into one of the healing pods and hopefully reverse the process on Pidge.”
Lance nudged Hunk softly with his elbow. “Great job buddy, you saved Pidge!”
“I'm afraid it's not quite that simple.” Allura objected. “Wormhole mechanics are obscure even to Alteans, and I'm afraid this might take more than a few ticks to get it to work. Like Coran said, we can't risk anything happening to Pidge in case of a malfunction.”
“Not to mention that the materials we’d need to pull off what is basically a miniature contained wormhole are extremely rare and hard to get by!” Coran explained. “We can check the castle for supplies but I doubt this is a feat that can be managed in just a few vagras!”
“So we start now.” Shiro ordered, taking back his position as a leader now that all the scientific mumbo-jumbo was over. “Hunk, you go help Coran and give us a list of what you might need for this to work, the princess and I will try locating them as fast as possible.”
“What about Pidge?” Lance asked, pointing a finger at the snoozing child in his arms. “No offence, but there's just no way we can possibly keep a wire-chewing baby Pidge in this death trap of a castle. We need someone who can keep an eye on them.”
“Lance’s right,” Shiro nodded. “The castle isn't the safest place for a child, and with Zarkon’s army hot on our trail it seems irresponsible to keep them here.”
“That's quite a shame…” Coran shook his head sadly. “I've heard a great many recounting about your human larva stage, it would've been fascinating to spend a little more time with a real human ‘baby’ and take some reference notes.”
The paladins stared awkwardly, not really knowing how to answer to Coran’s fascination with children. Thankfully they didn't have to, because Allura interrupted him.
“There’s no time for that. We don't know when the next Galra attack might happen, so we need to get Pidge to safety as soon as possible.” She turned to the control panel, tapping a few buttons until a hologram of a planet appeared in front of them. “I have a contact on Alovia, one of Xiohiri’s moons. It's a resort planet that's quite certainly under the radar of Zarkon due to lack of profitable resources for the Galra Empire. They host a great many species here so you’ll manage to blend in easily.”
She presses another button and the screen zoomed in and focused on what resembled a small archipelago. “My contact can bring you there and help you settle in. You’ll have to keep a low profile, no one can know that you’re paladins of Voltron, or else you’ll become an easy target for Zarkon’s fleet.” She added. “The Quulons are a peaceful race, they won't cause you any issues as long as you try to blend in. We can send Pidge along with two guardians until we've managed to reverse the wormhole’s effect.”
“You’ll have to play the part well.” Coran chipped in. “The Quulons aren't necessarily a suspicious race, but they're very attached to their traditions. Alovia mostly serves as a resort planet for couples, so we're less at risk of people raising questions if we pretend that the paladins we send have gone through the human trial of ‘marriage’. It's quite a fascinating concept you have there, and it reminds me of the old altean mating ritual of—”
“Lance, you seem to be able to handle Pidge quite well, so you’ll go on Alovia with them.” Shiro interrupted. “Take Keith with you.”
“ WHAT ?” Both paladins screamed.
“You can't send Keith !” Lance protested vigorously. “Look at him, no one’s going to believe he has a child, he hates babies!”
“I don't—”
“You totally do!” Lance pointed an accusatory finger towards him. “Besides how’s he supposed to blend in on a vacation planet, he constantly looks like he has his Bayard stuck up his—”
“Lance that's enough!” Shiro scolded.
“Why can't Allura come with me?” The boy asked, dropping the heat and during to throw a flirty smile at the princess. “We can get to know each other more personally and she’d make the perfect loving bride.”
Before Shiro could scold him any further, Allura crossed her arms on her chest and stared coldly at Lance.
“I'll have you know that Alteans don't believe in such ridiculous notions as human heteronormativity and gender norms.” She glared. “My anatomy as a female Altean does not make me any more fit for motherhood than any of you.”
Lance felt his cheeks burn. He'd obviously been joking, trying to lighten the mood and maybe score a few points with the princess, but things had backfired quickly. He glared down at the baby in his arms, knowing for a fact that Pidge had to be the one to have taught Allura those words.
“Besides,” Allura kept going. “Even if it did, I can't leave the castle. If I were to go and anyone tried tapping into the castle’s system, it would immediately go into a defensive mode and take down anyone inside.”
Ignoring the snickers of his teammates, Lance asked again. “What about Hunk, he’s basically our mum already!”
“Hunk has to stay here and assist Coran with the wormhole pod. He’s the only one with enough engineering skills to understand what's going on in there.” Allura explained. Before Lance could open his mouth again she added. “Shiro has to stay here and defend the castle with the black lion. Keith will go with you on Aluvia and help you take care of Pidge.”
“But Keith can barely take care of himself, let alone a baby! He’s—” Lance protested, but before he could finish his sentence he received a swift kick to the back of the knee from Keith and struggled not to stumble with the baby in his arms.
“Enough, the both of you.” Shiro interrupted. “This isn't open to debate, you’ll do as we decided and go together on Aluvia until this matter is resolved.” He frowned, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “That's enough for one day, go get some rest and we’ll regroup in the morning to discuss the plan further.”
With that, the conversation was over, and the team had nothing else to do except walk back to their quarters. Lance and Keith separated from the rest of the group, walking in heavy silence with a few steps in between them. Keith arrived first, stopping in front of the training simulator. He said nothing, barely casting an annoyed glance towards Lance before disappearing behind the heavy doors.
Alone with the baby, Lance let out a heavy sigh as he walked back to his room. The metal doors slid open in a silent whisper, and closed behind him. As he sat on the edge of his bed, Lance felt like his shoulders weight a ton, pushing him down into the mattress. With everything that had happened in a single day, the boy’s head was spinning. He knew that however this new mission went, the whole team depended on Keith and him to protect Pidge. Lance wanted to do good by his teammate, his friend . He’d give his all to prove that he was worthy of this task, that he could help bringing back Pidge. He desperately wanted this to succeed, and Lance would give it his best, even as the familiar gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach was telling him that his best wouldn’t be enough.
With nothing to serve as a cradle, he carefully set a sleeping baby Pidge on the bed next to him. They stirred slightly but didn't wake, and Lance fell asleep next to them soon after, dreading the days to come.
Last chapter of the first act! Next act will be a little more action packed and will focus more on Lance and Keith’s relationship. Once again, thanks to @thecookiemonster77 and @totallynotapumpkindonut for the help and inspiration!
Summary: When the green lion goes through a wormhole and Pidge is turned back into a baby, Keith and Lance are chosen to take them on a safe planet and act as their guardian until the team finds a way to turn them back.
Aka the “fake married with a baby” AU literally nobody asked for!
Pairing: Lance/Keith
Read on AO3: here
Chapter 2: Emo shirts and baby bags
The next few days were spent mostly in preparation of Lance and Keith’s upcoming trip to Aluvia.
Lance had long since stopped protesting about his fake marital arrangement with Keith. It wasn't like he hated the idea of spending some time on a solo mission with the red paladin. In fact, he was curious… His relationship with Keith had always been a rocky one, even way back when they were two students at the Garrisons with no idea of what they were getting into. Sure, he and Keith fought, a lot… In fact most their interactions on a daily basis were a succession of screaming matches. They didn't get along all that well, or at least not in the traditional sense of the term. Did Keith get on his nerves? Sure. Was there still this petty rivalry between them for no reason whatsoever? Obviously. But never once had Lance considered Keith to be someone he hated, and it sure hoped the red paladin felt the same way.
He admired his fellow paladin, he always had and—although he would never admit it out loud—he was looking forward to being teamed up with him for this mission. And if the thought of pretending to be in a relationship with Keith sent butterflies in Lance’s stomach? Well, no one needed to know.
“G’morning buddy!” Lance called as he walked into the lab where Hunk was currently hunched over a large panel of alien tech pieces. “How are things coming along?”
“Not great.” Hunk admitted with a frustrated groan. “I don't know what half of theses things do and I'm pretty sure we’re missing more than two thirds the supplies we need to even begin building the generator for the wormhole!” Hunk shot Lance a defeated look. “Sorry bro but it looks like you and Keith are gonna be stuck on that planet for a while.”
Lance shrugged nonchalantly. “Don't sweat it. I know you’re doing your best. And if anyone can kick that wormhole’s butt it's definitely you!”
“Thanks buddy.” Hunk gave a tentative smile. “I wish Pidge was here to help, we would be done in no time…”
“Well if you need someone to chew on a wrench while you work, I'm sure they’ll volunteer!”
Hunk gave a hearty laugh. “I don't doubt it for a second! It seems like even Baby Pidge has a thing for toying with alien tech.”
“Tell me about it!” Lance threw his arms up in the air. “Last night they somehow managed to climb out of my bed and reach an opened control panel in my wall! I barely managed to keep them from chewing on loose wires.”
“Be careful out there.”
“Will do, buddy.” Lance smiled. “I'm more worried that the team will fall apart if I'm not there to carry it.” He said with a wink.
“I think we’ll manage.” Hunk teased.
Lance laughed softly, but after a few seconds his expression morphed into one of genuine concern.
“Listen Hunk, I know this is an important job and all that, but you need to take care of yourself, okay? I know how you get when you’re working on a project. You get too caught up in it and you forget to eat and sleep.” He hesitated. “At least remember to take off your binder and stretch once in a while, okay? I don't want you getting hurt because you were too focused on helping us…”
Hunk turned to Lance, giving him a warm smile. “Thanks buddy... I'll be careful, don't worry.”
“Great!” Lance exclaimed. “Now wish me luck because I have to spend god knows how long with Keith stuck on a tiny alien planet!”
Hunk laughed at that.
Keith had been up since dawn. Well, more precisely, Keith had been up since what was probably dawn, according to the clock Pidge had built during their first few days in the castle. It was supposed to be set on the same time zone as the Garrison’s back on Earth, but it was hard to tell. It's not like deep space had sunsets to give indications of time.
He'd grown used to being up hours before his other teammate. The castle had a different feeling to it when it was vacant, and Keith enjoyed the tranquility. He also enjoyed squeezing in a little workout session in the training simulator before anyone else was awake.
That's where Shiro found him that morning: Sweaty and raging against three training sentries. Shiro joined him for a while, both joining efforts into battling enemies. Soon they stopped, breath heaving as they called off the training simulation.
Shiro laughed slightly, brushing back the white strands of hair that stuck to his sweaty forehead. He walked over to Keith, who was breathing hard with his hands on his knees, and slapped a hand on his shoulder.
“Good job, Keith.” Shiro chuckles. “It's been a while since we trained together like that.”
Keith shot him a smirk. “That's because you’re worried I'll kick your butt, old man.”
“I'm your dreams, kid.” Shiro laughed, collecting a towel to dry the sweat off his face. “Are you ready for the mission today?”
Keith frowned slightly. “I'm not a child, Shiro. This is barely a mission, just a babysitting gig. I can handle it.”
“Sure.” Shiro frowned. “But can you handle of solo mission with Lance?”
Keith shot him a glare, definitely not amused by the black paladin’s words. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You two can barely stop bickering.” Shiro explained. “I'm worried you’ll be at each other’s throats before the end of your first day on Aluvia.”
“We’ll be fine.” Keith shot back. “I can handle Lance.” When Shiro only raised an eyebrow, he insisted. “Look, we’re paladins, just like any of you. We can do our job , Shiro.”
The bitterness in Keith’s voice was palpable. It always came down to this whenever Lance and him were involved. Sure, their dynamic wasn't perfect, but Keith hated how the team seemed to be unable to trust them when the two of them were involved. They weren't children, they could handle themselves.
“I'm just worried you won't be able to focus on the mission properly if you’re always fighting with Lance.”
Keith frowned. Sure, he often fought with Lance, but he'd always seen it as more of a silly rivalry than anything else. The two seemed unable to interact without pushing each other’s buttons and somehow ending in some sort of competition every time. Yet hearing Shiro, it almost sounded like Lance and Keith didn't make a good team.
Didn’t they? Granted, they didn't interact as flawlessly as the rest of the team, but they worked well together and they always had each other’s back. Keith chose to believe that maybe they weren't perfect, but they made a good team, no matter what the others thought of it.
“We’ll be fine.” Keith shot back, shoving his own towel onto Shiro’s chest and walking out of the training room.
“Just be careful, Keith.”
“Shut up,” The red paladin smirked. “You're not my dad.”
He heard Shiro gasped in mock offense behind him. “You take that back young man!”
Keith laughed, never turning back but taking the time to raise his middle finger at Shiro before the doors slammed behind him.
“Alright paladins!” Allura clapped her hands and the hushed conversations around the table died off. “Let’s review the details of the mission before we go.” She turned to her right. “Hunk?”
“We’re making progress,” Hunk straightened his back to explain. “But barely. Coran made a list of all the supplies we’re missing to start building the wormhole.” He sighed. “I doubt this will take less than a week at best, there’s no way we can keep Pidge in the castle that long, it's not safe.”
“Especially when someone ,” Lance accused, glaring at Keith next to him.” Forgets to lock the training simulator doors and has sentries almost mangling a baby.”
Keith kicked him under the table. “Shut up, it happened one time and it was an accident.”
“Nevertheless.” Allura cut them off, calling the team back to order. “We can all agree that the castle isn't the safest place to keep a child. We’ll resume our previous plan.”
She turned to the control panel in front of her, showing off the same map of Aluvia from before.
“My contact on Aluvia has been made aware of your arrival. She has prepared some living quarters for you which should be sufficiently secluded from the main town. That way you should be able to avoid prying eyes. However you’ll still have to make an effort to be neighbourly, too much isolation could raise some red flags around you.”
Allura made a point to stare intensely at Keith and Lance, who was holding a babbling baby Pidge on his knees. The team had long since given up on trying to keep the child from chewing on any hardware they found. Any attempts usually resulted in loud tantrums, which were ultimately resolved by giving Pidge back the piece of tech they had just taken from them.
“Sladar is the only one aware of the situation.” Allura explained. A mournful look crossed her face when she added, “She and my father go way back, and she’s the only one I trust with this information. I didn't go into to many details but she knows you both have some link with Voltron. There should be no need for any further explanation. Once again I can't stress enough that we can't have word spreading about your true nature as paladins of Voltron.”
The team nodded in agreement. They had all witnessed how quickly Zarkon’s fleet tended to turn up once they had a location on Voltron. And two isolated paladins with no lion and virtually no means of defending themselves? Well no one wanted to know what would happen if the Galras learnt about that.
“Expect to be at the centre of attention for the first few quitents.” Coran spoke. “Despite the fact that Aluvia is supposed to be a resort planet, it's far less populated now than it used to be. With the imminent threat of a Garla invasion, people have more on their mind than planning trips.”
“To avoid suspicion we’ll stick with the original cover we came up with.” Allura added. “Keith and Lance will act as a pair of travelers and their child. This is a common enough scenario on Aluvia that it shouldn't raise questions, but do be careful to keep your cover believable.”
The implication behind her words made Lance’s blood boil. What, so she thought Keith and him couldn't pass as a couple? They’d make a great couple! The best couple! They would just have to act like the clingiest, cheesiest couple ever! That would show them…
“Don't worry, princess.” Lance smirked and threw an arm over Keith’s shoulder, bringing him closer to him and Pidge. “We’ll be so nauseatingly adorable, no one will ever doubt we’re not hopelessly in love with each other. Right babe?”
Keith shoved Lance’s face away, breaking free from his embrace. “Focus, idiot.”
Thankfully, everyone was used enough to Lance’s antics to not really pay attention to them anymore, so no one really noticed the slight flush creeping up his neck. Maybe this was a terrible idea after all…
“Enough chatter.” Allura scolded them. “If all is clear you should get your things ready to embark, you’ll be leaving soon.”
As it turned out, Allura’s contact had arranged for a pod to come pick up Lance and Keith at the castle. It would be less suspicious and less likely to be associated with Voltron than any ship on the castle. The pod arrived shortly after the paladins were done packing.
Lance and Keith stepped in after short goodbyes and words of encouragement from the team. The pod was relatively small, with a low ceiling that forced the two paladins to slouch when getting it, and barely enough space for them to sit in front of each other without their knees knocking. Thankfully, if fit all of their luggages—although admittedly there weren’t that many of them.
“I can’t believe you brought so many face products…” Keith grumbled when the pod departed the castle.
“Hey, we don’t know how long we’ll be stuck on that planet.” Lance argued. “Some of us here like to take care of themselves, thank you very much.”
Keith shook his head, spending the next few minutes trying not to fidget too much. The trip to Aluvia would take a little while, seeing as they couldn’t risk the castle being spotted if they came to close to the planet. The more time passed in the tiny pod, the more Keith struggled to fight his agitation.
He wasn’t nervous. He was a paladin of Voltron, he was tough, and strong, and—
“ Dude !” Lance called in exasperation. “Will you stop bouncing your leg? It’s driving me insane!”
Okay, maybe he was a little nervous after all...
“Sorry…” Keith grumbled.
“Are you scared?” Lance asked, raising an eyebrow. It wasn’t teasing, coming off as more surprised than anything. Keith was usually the one to head straight into danger and never look back, Lance didn’t exactly expect him to be nervous about a mission that, by all accounts, was no different than a 12-year-old’s babysitting duty.
“No!” Keith defended, a little too strongly. He sighed and admitted. “I’m just a little uneasy… We don’t have our suits and Allura made us surrender our Bayards before we left. If anything goes wrong we don’t have anything to defend ourselves and—”
“Buddy calm down!” Lance called, pressing a hand on Keith’s knee, trying not to think too hard about the way it stilled under his touch. “We’ll be fine. This planet is supposed to be completely safe. Zarkon has no use for it so we shouldn’t have to worry about an invasion anytime soon.” He shrugged. “Besides, it’s not like we’re unarmed. Coran gave us a few weapons that were less likely to be affiliated with Voltron, and you still have your cool Galra knife, right?”
Keith forced himself to nod.
“The worse that could happen is someone taking the last Pink Lady if we go apple picking, relax.” Lance said, and when Keith gave him an odd look he just shrugged. “I don’t know what this planet is like, so I’m just picturing something like a southern countryside until proven wrong.”
Keith couldn’t help but chuckle at that, and Lance beamed proudly at him. The silence that followed was more comfortable, most of the tension having dissipated, until Lance perked up suddenly to dig into the bag next to him.
“Oh! I almost forgot!” He pulled out a small box and held it out for Keith to see. “Hunk gave us this, I was supposed to give it to you earlier.”
He opened the box, and inside laid two silver rings. Keith blinked in surprised, leaning forward to inspect them more carefully.
They were relatively plain in design, just two silver bands made out of what looked like brushed titanium, with no perceptible markings. Looking closer, Keith noticed the thin colored line that ran across the ring, a little off centre and closer to one of the edges. On one of the rings, the line was crimson red, and on the other it was sapphire blue. The rings were remarkable, simple in design but somehow still managing to look beautiful.
“Hunk gave us those.” Lance explained, slipping the blue ring on his own ring finger. “They’re supposed to represent wedding rings. We don’t know how much the Quulons know about human traditions, so that way we don’t risk blowing our cover as soon as we land. Hunk said they also act as transmitters with the castle, since we don’t have our suits to communicated with the team. They’re supposed to be untraceable by any radars they might have here, and they also only activate with our fingerprints, so we won’t risk getting detected.”
To show what he meant, Lance slid his thumb across the ring on his finger, and the thin blue line started emitting a soft blinking light. He swiped his thumb over it again and the blinking stopped.
Turning to Keith with a small smile, Lance grabbed his left hand and gently slipped the red ring over the paladin’s finger. He tried his best to ignore the tingles in the back of his neck, or the way Keith’s fingers—the only part of his hands not covered by his leather gloves—seemed incredibly soft under his touch.
Keith said nothing, staying completely motionless and trying his hardest not to pay attention to the way his stomach seemed to jump in his throat when Lance held his hand like that.
Seconds passed in silence, and finally they pulled back, clearing their throat awkwardly and looking anywhere except where the other was.
“Uh… There you go.” Lance stumbled over his words. “Better play the part well if we don’t want to get caught, right?”
Keith gave a small hum of approval, not sure what else he could say without making things even more uncomfortable than they already were.
Alright, so maybe he had a small crush on Lance, no big deal. He could totally keep it under control, maybe, probably. Sure, it might complicate things a little, but he wasn’t about to compromise the mission and Pidge’s safety because of his dumb stupid romantic feelings for the blue paladin.
“Where did you get the baby hammock?” Keith asked, pointing at the front carrier on Lance’s stomach that was currently holding a sleeping Pidge. It was a stupid question, but anything was good at long as it distracted him from this previous thoughts.
It seemed to work like a charm, because suddenly Lance was throwing his head back in uncontrollable laughter.
“ Baby hammock ?” He repeated, barely able to articulate in between fits of giggles. “Dude, seriously ? Have you never been around kids in your life?”
Keith felt his face burn slightly. “Whatever… The baby bag, thing .”
“It’s a baby carrier.” Lance wiped a tear from his eye, still struggling to control his fading laughter.
“Yeah… That.” Keith shrugged. “I don’t remember seeing baby supplies in the castle.”
“There wasn’t, Hunk made it.” Lance shrugged. “I’ve been around enough babies all my life to know how those things are made, and once he had the pattern Hunk was able to sew one together from scratch. He used old clothes and fabrics we found around the castle, so it’s a little mismatched but it’ll hold. See this spot?” He pointed at a patch of grey fabric around the stomach. “We used one of your old emo band tees for that.”
“WHAT?”
“I’m kidding, dude.” Lance chuckled. “I couldn’t go through your things even if I wanted to, your room is always locked, remember?” With a devilish grin, he added, “But thanks for confirming that you did in fact go through an emo phase.”
“Shut up…” Keith grumbled, annoyed at himself for falling into Lance’s trap so easily.
“No way, what was it? Fall Out Boys? My Chemical Romance?” He eyed Keith carefully. “You look like someone who still knows the words to Black Parade…”
Before Keith could argue any further, the pod suddenly started shaking around, and the two paladins realised they were close to landing. They dropped the previous matter, focusing back on the mission at hand.
“Do you want to carry Pidge?” Lance suggested. “I can carry the rest of the bags if you want.”
Keith pulled a face. “I’m fine.”
“Keith, buddy. I know you hate babies but if we have to pretend Pidge is our child you might have to make an effort to hold them at some point…”
“I don’t hate babies, I just—”
Keith’s excuse died in his throat and suddenly the door of the pod was sliding open, drowning the inside of the ship in blinding light. The two tried shielding their vision as best they could, but it took a while before their eyes got used to the brightness. They stumbled out of the pod, half blind still.
“Greetings!” They heard a voice call, “And welcome to Aluvia!”
Spooky (not really) Halloween fic with a bit of AroAce positivity in this cold harsh world. Thanks to the Enablers for proof-reading this and dealing with my mental breakdowns when I’m writing, you guys are the best! @thecookiemonster77 @totallynotmiraculace
Warning: Contains mentions of struggles with internalized aphobia, proceed with caution if those are sensitive topics for you.
Summary: Adrien comes to the witch in the woods with a very odd request, and what he gets out of it isn't quite what he expected.
Pairing: Adrien/Marinette
Read on AO3: here
People talked about a house. There were stories—whispers in the streets, when no one else was listening—about a path outside a secluded village in the countryside. It was said that the trail would lead you away, beyond the small forest of pine trees and oaks, and into a secluded glade concealed by bushes and brambles. In that clearing, there was a house.
And in that house, there was a witch.
Marinette had been doing some long overdue cleaning. It was finally autumn again, with cold winds and warm colours that brought joy to her heart. The pumpkin patch outside her house was thriving, much to her delight—she would be making her favourite red kuri squash soup in no time now—but she knew that with October also came the busiest time for her little shop.
People had odd conceptions about witches. Customers rolled in every week with friendly smiles and opened minds, asking for magical knicks and enchanted knacks. And still you could hear stories about the place being haunted, or cursed, or both.
Marinette didn’t mind, as long as it didn’t interfere with her business, and it didn’t. Sure, she didn’t have patrons lining up outside her house like some other witches she knew, but she was doing perfectly fine as it was. She wasn’t the most gifted of witches, or the best known. And her shop wasn’t the most famous, or the most impressive. It was a small cabin that always had light coming through the windows, and smoke coming from the chimney, and a small wooden sign dangling from the door that read;
Ladybug’s - Potions & Charms.
But Marinette loved her shop, she loved her town, and she loved the way things were. Especially when late October rolled in; Halloween was right around the corner, and the brunette paid special attention to keep a few cobwebs on the threshold, a couple of flickering lights by the window, and most of all, a bowl full of candies by the door. It wasn’t much, but it always brought a thrill of excitement to the children of the town.
The rest of the shop was less extravagant, designed to cater for the actual clients who came in, and Marinette made a great deal of keeping the place spotless. Which so happened to be what she was in the midst of doing—dusting her potion vials and straightening her jars of herbs—when she was interrupted by the ringing of her front door bell.
The young witch jumped in surprise, nearly tumbling from the poorly balanced stack of chairs she had climbed to reach the highest shelves. She made it to the ground safely—if only barely—and called out to the newcomer in a singsong voice.
« Coming! »
She skipped her way to the door, eager to start business for the day, and opened it.
Standing in the sill of her front door was surely the most gorgeous man Marinette had ever had the pleasure of laying her eyes on. He had golden blond hair, and striking green eyes, and a figure worthy of being painted by the most capricious of artists. She felt a rush of heat lick at her cheeks.
« G-Good morning, » She chimed, and cursed her voice for being much shriller than she had intended. « How may I help you today? »
The boy suddenly seemed hesitant, as if he hadn’t intended on making in this far. It wasn’t a look Marinette hadn’t seen before; People came to her every day with needs of magic spells they hadn’t fully considered using. He shuffled from one foot to another, his hand reaching to rub the back of his neck.
« Hi, » Said the boy. « I was maybe looking for a solution to a problem, and a few townspeople recommended your shop? »
Marinette grinned widely and stepped aside, allowing him inside her little shop, assuring that she had the perfect spell to fix whatever his problem was. The boy walked in, still awkward in his movements, and stood in the middle of the shop, taking a moment to look around. Now that Marinette could take a better look at him, she realised the stranger had an odd sense of familiarity to him, although the witch doubted she would have ever forgotten seeing such a face around town.
« Welcome to my humble abode. » Marinette smiled, gesturing theatrically to the wide array of potions, jars and magic grimoires neatly arranged on different shelves. « What were you looking for today? A health potion? A charm for abundant crops? A spell of luck maybe? »
« Erm… » The blonde looked around hesitantly. « I was hoping something more in t-the… The L-Love department? » The end of his sentence was barely over a whisper, and Marinette would have probably missed it has she not been paying close attention.
« Ah. » She said, the reason for the boy’s embarrassment suddenly clearer. Love was a tricky business, even in places where magic was common. Tinkering with someone else’s feelings wasn’t forbidden, per say, but most people had very set opinions about someone magically forcing them to fall in love. Marinette was one of those people. « I might have a few charms for better luck in love, » She said, slightly sullen as she rummaged through a couple of drawers. « But if your intent was to bewitch a love interest than I don’t think I can— »
« A-Actually, » The boy interjected. « It would be for myself. »
The witch stopped dead in her tracks, slowly turning around to face her customer and shooting him a look of pure confusion. « I beg your pardon? »
« I—Ah, err… » The blonde seemed on the verge of having a heart-attack from sheer awkwardness. « I-I have this problem, you see? I-I didn’t—I’ve never—I don’t feel that way? »
Marinette looked at him with intensity, frowning slightly.
« You don’t feel that way? » She repeated slowly, enunciating every word carefully.
The boy shook his head.
« What way? Love? »
« Yes. »
« Never? »
« Not once. »
« You’ve never fallen in love? »
« Ever. »
« You’ve never been romantically attracted to anyone, ever. »
« No. »
« What about physically? »
« What? »
« Sex. » Marinette explained, her expression neutral. « Have you ever been sexually attracted to anyone? »
« Isn’t that the same thing? » The boy asked.
« Not even by a long shot. » She shook her head. « Well, have you? »
« Then no… » He admitted, looking shameful.
The witch hummed gravely, offering no further question and allowing a heavy silence to settle in the house. The boy was starting to squirm, rubbing his neck and arm, and generally just trying to consider what to do with his hands. After a few minutes of silence, he couldn’t take it anymore;
« T-That’s why… » He explained. « I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I was hoping you would have something to fix me and— »
He was interrupted when the witch suddenly jumped back, looking shell-shocked, as if someone had just slapped her across the face. Her expression then faded into one of unadulterated fury. She grabbed the boy’s hand, and dragged him further into the house. The boy squeaked, terrified that he had somehow offended the sorceress, and petrified at the thought of what she might do to him as she hauled him through a heavy curtain that separated the shop from the other rooms.
The blonde had expected many things to lay behind that curtain—torture devices, monsters, a corpse or two for good measure maybe—but he certainly hadn’t expected to enter a small, perfectly normal and homely-looking living room.
The witch pulled him through the room, and sat him down on a soft wine coloured sofa in front of a wooden coffee table. The boy looked up, at a loss, and jumped as she turned around and barked;
« Tikki! » She called out to her familiar, « Put the kettle on the stove! »
And odd insect-looking creature, all in red and black spots, quickly appeared in front of the witch, before nodding and zooming away, disappearing into the kitchen area where soft light filtered through stained-glass windows. The brunette followed suit, leaving the boy alone and confused as she dug through drawers and cupboards in the kitchen.
A couple of minutes and a whistle of the kettle later, the witch marched back into the living room, setting a steaming cup in front of the boy before taking a seat on the couch across the table. The boy hesitantly took the cup, still under the careful scrutiny of the brunette, and felt the soft scents of cinnamon and clove tickle his nose.
« What is that? » He dared to ask. « A potion? »
« Tea. » Marinette answered.
« Magical tea? »
« Regular tea. Chaï. »
The boy looked down, confused for a moment, before bringing the cup to his lips. He hummed in contentment, only now realising how much fright and the harsh October cold had chilled him to the bones. He drank eagerly, letting the hot beverage warm his body and soul, feeling a lot more at peace.
The witch was still staring at him with and odd intensity, but waited until the boy had set his cup down on the table to ask;
« What’s your name? »
The blonde hesitated. « Adrien. » He said. « Adrien Agreste. »
Ah. Now Marinette understood better why the stranger’s face had seemed so familiar. Gabriel Agreste was a famous and influential tailor in the neighbouring town. What that man could do with a thread and needle was almost as magical as all of Marinette’s potion vials combined. She’d heard about his son, even seen his face a few times, seeing as the Agreste name’s fame was important enough to hit even secluded villages like hers.
« You’re far from home, Adrien Agreste. » The witch said.
« I know. » The blonde admitted. « I couldn’t go to someone from home for this, I couldn’t risk anyone knowing… » He sighed. « A friend knew someone who told me to come here. A fortune-teller from town, she said you’d know how to help me. »
Marinette grinned to herself. Alya was a sibyl she’d met when they were both young girls in training. They’d stayed friends after that, despite Alya staying in the capital and Marinette seeking more peaceful work in smaller villages. All things considered, it was no surprise her friend had sent the boy to her.
« I love people. » He said after a while. « I love my friends, and my father. But… It’s not the right type of love. It’s not the one that people talk about it stories, the one that’s supposed to be for only that special person, and be different and make me want more… »
And it hurt so much. Every reminder that True Love was the one thing he should wish for out of life, every story where the “happily ever after” only came when you met that special someone, all those things that screamed that he was incomplete without someone to love… They were like rubbing alcohol on that metaphorical open wound on his chest.
« Can you help? » Adrien asked, becoming slightly restless. « Will you fix me? »
Because he was desperate for help, for anything to fix this, to change how he was—Who he was, even. What kind of inhumane monster didn’t love? What freak of nature didn’t long for human touch? He was desperate, and he was scared. If he couldn’t love, then what fate was left for him? Nothing but loneliness and despair, nothing but being left behind in the dust while others moved on with their lives.
The witch frowned. « I can help, » She said. « But I won’t fix you. »
The boy stared, confused, and the brunette sighed. With a wave of her hand, a small book floated off a nearby shelf and came to rest on the coffee table. She pushed it towards Adrien.
« What is this, a spellbook? »
« A pamphlet. » She said. « Magic won’t fix you, and neither will medicine or elaborate charms. This, however, might help. »
Adrien picked up the book. It was dusty and its pages were slightly damaged, like it had been opened countless times before. On the front cover were a drawing of a playing card pierced by an arrow, and large letters written in black ink;
Asexuality & Aromanticism
« I-I don’t understand… » Adrien said, eyes darting from the book to the witch in front of him.
« There are people. » Marinette explained. « People who like you—and like me—don’t feel those kind of attractions towards anyone. Nothing can fix them, because they are not to be fixed. »
« How? »
The witch spoke softly. « Love is too complex to be limited to fickle definitions of romance and sex. If you care for people, friends, family and significant others alike. If you really, truly care for them, then it is Love. » She smiled at the boy. « Not feeling romantic or sexual attraction towards people doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you. You love in your own ways, and there is nothing to be fixed. »
Adrien looked up to her with restrained hope. He wanted to believe her, more than anything, but some things were still bothering him.
« I just… It would be so much easier if I could just like someone—anyone—and feel the way everyone says I should. »
« I would be easier, wouldn’t it? » Marinette smiled sadly. « But then so would many things… Because it’s easier doesn’t mean it’s the right choice, and what people say you should want isn’t necessarily what’s best for you. »
Adrien was silent for a moment. This what a whole different spiel from what he was usually fed; “You just need some time”, “You haven’t found the right person yet”, “Maybe you should see a doctor about it”, “You’re just too young to understand”... He’d heard everything, and each comment was like a stab in the guts.
But he had nodded along to every single one of them, rolling with the punches and slowly believing in the lie that there was something that could be done, a way to make him “normal”, like everyone else.
« There’s this other witch I know, Chloé Bourgeois. » He said. « She’s a friend—well, not really a friend. But I know her, and she knows about my… Condition. She offered to brew me a potion, said it would fix me… »
Marinette leaned back in her chair with an amused smile. « And yet you came all the way here instead of taking up on her offer. »
« I wanted a second opinion. » The blonde admitted. « I guess this never bothered me until people started pointing it out as a problem. »
« People are ignorant. » Marinette said curtly. « They don’t know, and sometimes it takes some time for them to understand. Sometimes they never do, because they don’t want to. But as long as you are happy with how you love, then it’s not a problem, and nothing they’ll say can change that. You’re not broken; Anyone who says otherwise is a fool. »
Chloé more than anyone. She knew the bratty rich girl from her training as a witch, and ever since then their relationship had been more than antagonistic. The blonde had tried to jinx her, once, after a particularly bitter loss during an enchantment contest. She had cursed Marinette so that no one would ever want to sleep with her... Little did she know she was doing the girl the biggest favour of all.
Adrien stared in silence. That was all he could do; No words came to him in that moment, and as that moment dragged on he started thinking that maybe no words would ever come to him anymore. He didn’t mind. For the first time in his life, there were no words needed. There was no one to contradict, nothing to explain, no reason to defend himself. With only a handful of words, this strange girl in front of him had lifted the burden that had been weighing down on his shoulders from the start. With a stern look and a helping hand, she had opened a whole new world of possibilities.
Because if he wasn’t alone in this; If, in the whole wide world, there was even just this one person—this odd, amazing witch with the giant blue eyes and the pigtails under her pointed black hat—who felt the same way… Then maybe he wasn’t broken. Maybe he could be happy like this, he could be himself, and he didn’t need to be fixed. Maybe it was all going to be okay.
« Thank you. » He said after a short silence. His words were simple, but the intensity behind them was nearly overwhelming. « Honestly. »
Marinette took his right hand, slowly, and with a small smile she carefully slipped a ring on the boy’s middle finger.
« This ring, » The witch said. « Isn’t charmed or enchanted. But the power it holds is to remind you that you are never alone, and never to be fixed for how you love. » Her smile widened. « Wear it with pride, and you’ll see that it will keep you safer than any protection spells. »
Adrien smiled, and thanked her again, examining the ring on his finger. It was a simple black band, with no markings or gemstones, but elegant in its modest simplicity. The implication behind it, however, felt more liberating than any magic spell could ever have. It was a sign that he was okay, that he was whole, and that he belonged.
« Come back anytime. » Marinette assured, and with a slight tap on the book Adrien was still holding, she added, « And if anyone gives you trouble for this, I’ll be more than happy to teach you a few jinxes. » She winked. « On the house. »
Adrien thanked her and bid her farewell before he left, only sparing the witch and her cottage one last longing look before disappearing into the trees.
He came back to visit the following year, and the one after that. He came with gifts and stayed for tea. One lazy afternoon, when their mugs were empty and kettle had gone cold, Adrien quietly admitted that something always brought him back to this place, this little magic shop in the countryside. His fingers danced as they twisted the simple black band around his finger, his emerald eyes never quite leaving the witch and the ring of her own. With a bashful smile and a blush on her cheek, the girl shared her secret; Although not bound by any enchantment or spell, the ring did hold a deeper magic to it. It represented the sense of community and the love that it held, a feeling that would always help him find the place where he truly belonged, a bond that was stronger than any magic.
The boy kept coming back after that. His visits grew more frequent and longer as seasons passed. With each of them he felt his bond to this house—and the witch who lived there—grow stronger, making it harder for him to leave, until one day he stopped leaving altogether. He stayed in that strange little house at the end of the path in the wood, and he learned the ways of spells and charms, and he never believed he needed to be fixed ever again.
There were stories—whispers in the streets, when no one else was listening—and people talked about the witch, her apprentice, and the matching black bands on their middle right finger.
She wasn’t the most gifted of witches, and the shop wasn’t the most famous. But people knew that although the witch and the boy were never together, romantically or physically, the small cabin in the woods with the light coming through the windows and smoke coming from the chimney always held more love than any other place in town.
And until the end, there was always a small wooden sign dangling from the door that read;
Short, angsty little piece of writing about Adrien discovering his asexuality, and Marinette helping him cope.
Also WARNING FOR BRUTAL APHOBIC COMMENTS! Seriously, those do not reflect my thoughts in any way (i’m hella ace, yo) but a paragraph (although very short) contains a lot of aphobic comments and slurs. It’s pretty bad, and even more awful considering I legit just pulled them out of a real life article I had the bad luck of reading (and I sugar-coated the hell out of them, tbh). All ends well, I promise, but proceed carefully if you’re triggered by those.
Rating: T
Genre: Angst/Comfort
Read on AO3: [here]
...Chaton… Chat… Chat Noir!
“Huh?”
Chat jumped out of his skin at the sound of his name, nearly toppling over the metal girder of the Eiffel Tower where he had been sitting. His head snapped towards the sound, only to find Ladybug staring at him, worry apparent on her face.
“Are you alright?” She asked, tilting her head to the side. “You’ve been zoning out during the entire patrol. You’re not usually like this, is something distracting you?”
The black cat felt warmth clutch at his heart, like it usually did when his lady showed genuine worry and interest in him. Unfortunately, the feeling was short lived, and soon the cold feeling of anxiety was back, gripping at his throat until he was almost choking. He shook his head, trying to regain composure.
“I’m fine.” He said, voice devoid of its usual chirpiness. In that moment, Adrien hated being his feline alter ego, as he knew his cat ears were probably droopy and giving away his current state of mind. “I’m just tired.” He lied. “I think I’ll cut short to patrol, if you don’t mind…”
Ladybug eyed him suspiciously, and the longer he was under her scrutinizing baby blue eyes, the more awful he felt. Finally, she gave him a nod of approval.
Chat Noir was off before she could even bid him a good night.
The trip home took him less time than usual, passing by in a blur. His mind was reeling, barely taking in his surroundings, and he barely realised he had reached the mansion until he had almost crashed into his bedroom window.
He stood there, in the middle of his empty room, for a long while. Patrol hadn’t helped him clear his mind as he had hoped it would. Even seeing Ladybug had done little to lift his spirit. His usual solaces had been of no help to relieve his heavy heart. He was in desperate need of comfort, with nowhere to seek it.
He gave up, detransforming and feeding Plagg—paying no mind to the kwami’s nagging—before flopping in his desk chair, bringing his computer back to life with one shake of the mouse.
The Ladyblog was the first thing to appear, screen still stuck on the comment section where he had left it. Most comments were positive; praising Alya’s work as a freelance reporter, or loudly acclaiming the two heros’ last victory over an akuma. But others… Well Adrien supposed they weren’t exactly negative… Crude would be a better word.
He had seen them before, the crass comments on Ladybug’s appearance, the lewd innuendos and obscene depiction of what those people wanted to do to her. Alya made a point of deleting all of them, but the blog was very popular, with more comments every day than she could handle, and so some of them slipped past her guard.
Adrien had, of course, taken offence on his Lady’s behalf, repulsed by those comments. But lately… Lately one thing had been nagging him in the back of his mind.
He loved Ladybug, there was no denying it. He had been in love with the girl in the spotted mask from the second he had first laid eyes on her. And now, 3 years later, his love was stronger than ever. And yet, not once had he had similar thoughts towards her.
Not that he would ever think of his lady in such a degrading, insulting way. But, the idea of touching her in similar ways, of being with her… Like that… It had never before crossed his mind. It should have, shouldn’t it? He was a boy in his late teens, supposedly constantly hormonal and horny. The boys he went to high school with had those thoughts—judging by the way they talked about this or that classmate, or whatever female idol was popular at the time. Why didn’t he ?
He had had a few crushes before, mostly people he went to school with, but none of them had ever sparked those feelings in him. He’d always assumed he’d finally get to feel them when he’d meet “The One”. That’s what the movies had taught him, anyway. Boy meets girl, falls in love, and expresses said love with sex...
Ladybug was the real deal to him, not just a passing fling. She plagued his every thoughts, constantly on his mind. She was perfect, an ethereal being descended from the heavens just to bless him with her presence. That was love, wasn’t it? He really, truly loved her, there was not a doubt in his mind. And yet, nothing.
There was something wrong with him. There had to be. He refused to think that this lack of lust meant that his love for his lady wasn’t, well, Love. He loved her. He did. Did he?
Adrien shook his head, trying to get rid of the thoughts he had carefully avoided until now. Before he could overthink this any more, Plagg came hovering in front of him.
“Kid, I don’t know what’s going on in that brain of yours, but you should really get some sleep.”
He glanced at the clock on his screen. 2AM. Wincing, he shut down his computer and headed to bed, dreading the exhaustion that would surely follow in the morning.
He barely slept that night.
“Nino… Do you think about sex?”
The question had left his mouth before he could hold it back. He and Nino had been having lunch outside in the school patio, eating silently. Adrien had been preoccupied, the thoughts from the previous night coming back at full force from the second he had awoken. Nino had been making the conversation for the both of them, talking about this and that—Adrien hadn’t really been paying attention.
The question seemed to startle him, but finally he shrugged. “Ya dude. I mean, no more than your usual run-of-the-mill sixteen year old, I guess…” He raised an eyebrow. “Why? Did you have sex? Dude if you did you’re obligated to tell me!”
“No!” Adrien knew when his friend was about to get carried away, and he wanted to put an end to this conversation before Nino could let his imagination run wild and put him in an even more uncomfortable position. “No… I was- I was just thinking about it.” He decided it was best not to mention that he was only thinking about how much he really, really didn’t want it.
“Yeah well, that’s just how things go at our age, I guess…” Nino shrugged again. “Did your dad not tell you about those things?”
Adrien grimaced. A couple of years ago, around the same time they had started learning about reproductive biology in class, this father had sent Nathalie to give him The Talk… The poor woman had seemed about as uncomfortable as he had been.
“It was traumatizing.” The boy frowned. “But… Do you- Do you think girls think about it as well?”
“Probably.” Nino said. “I know Alya said she does, and apparently girls talk about it sometimes… Is there a specific girl you had in mind?”
“No.” Adrien shook his head. “I was just wondering…”
“Don’t worry, my dude.” His friend nudged his side playfully. “Whoever she is, I’m sure that girl will be over the moon the the idea of doing it with Famous Model Adrien Agreste™”.
Adrien gave him a strained smile. He knew he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. Of course teenagers wanted sex. He was the abnormal one here...
Nino dropped the subject after that, which Adrien was incredibly grateful for. Lunch ended soon after that, and the afternoon dragged on painfully slowly. When classes finally ended, he declined Nino’s offer to hang out—despite having no other obligations that day—and headed straight home. The mansion was empty as always, with no one to stop him on his way to his bedroom, and soon enough Adrien found himself sitting at his desk again.
He had to get answers, to find out what was wrong with him. He figured the easiest way to find answers was to go online. And so he began looking.
The first few results that came up were inconclusive, mostly dealing with postmenopausal drops of libido in older women. Dread started taking over him when the next finds after that all described hormonal disorders with complicated names and treatments that had his blood run cold.
Adrien was growing desperate, more and more convinced with each passing second that there was in fact something terribly wrong with him. Until, finally, one article caught his mind.
Lack of sexual attraction: The new identity?
He clicked the link, eagerly devouring the first paragraphs of the article, waiting to find something in there that would validate his feelings.
He was hit by the sheer violence of the discourse.
The article talked about this new movement of people proudly claiming their lack of sexual attraction… And how wrong they were. Those “human amoebae”, taking pride in their right to remain selfish and the sexual equivalent of “dead fishes”… Those “sex dunces” who barely deserved to be called human, who were too low to be respected… Those monsters who forced their partners into unfulfilling relationships for their own selfish needs…
Adrien recoiled from the computer, hands jerking from the keyboard like it that just burnt him. His breath was short and shallow, heart racing as the whole room spun out of control around him. He stood up, sending his chair toppling backwards but only caring about his inability to catch his breath.
“Hey, are you okay kid?” Plagg asked from somewhere around him. He couldn’t see him, couldn’t see anything aside from the blur that had swallowed his room. He took an unsteady step back.
“I-I…” Words couldn’t come out, he couldn’t make sense of his own thoughts. “I have to get out.” Before the kwami could object, Adrien cried; “Plagg, claws out!”
Chat was out the window in a second.
He didn’t know where he was going, what was happening. It was raining, but he didn’t care. The buildings were flashing by around him and he couldn’t make sense of where he was. He had to get out. That was the only coherent thought in his mind. Had to leave, had to run. From what he didn’t know, but he was terrified and he knew he couldn’t stop, couldn’t go back.
This staff gave way under him, slipping on a wet cobblestone, and Chat went crashing down on a nearby balcony.
He had been too dizzy for his catlike reflexes to kick in on time, and although he managed to catch himself so he wouldn’t smash his skull on the ground, the hit that followed as he collapsed on the tiles sent a wave of flashing pain in his left arm.
He laid there for a while, lying on his back as the rain hit his face and seeped through his suit, in the middle of the broken flower pots he had brought down in his fall. His heart was still hammering, his head still dizzy, and the only thing anchoring him to reality was the soaring pain in his arm.
How long he stayed there, he had no idea. Seconds had passed, minutes, maybe even hours, until finally light came pouring out behind him and he heard a voice call his name.
“Chat?”
Rushed footsteps coming closer, and someone was by his side, pulling at his arm to get him to stand up. He cried out in pain, and the pulling stopped. A face came into view, familiar black hair that he barely registered, and he was pulled to his feet. He allowed himself to be carried down a trap door and flopped down on the bed below.
It was warmer inside, the bed under him was comfortable despite the dampness that he had probably caused. His eyes were still shut tight, and he jumped when soft hands came to rest of his forehead. Before he could pull away, those same hands were brushing his hair, a soft voice speaking soothing words next to him. It was nice, comforting.
Slowly, the blur around him began to edge away. His heart rate settled into a steady beat, his breathing came back to normal and his thoughts collected. He waited a few more minutes until he finally found the strength to open his eyes.
“Marinette?”
The brunette smiled softly over him, her hands still patting the top of his head. Her hair was loose, falling in messy locks and framing her face as she looked down at the feline hero.
“Are you okay?” Marinette asked.
Chat nodded slowly, pushing himself up until he was sitting on the bed. He winced when the throbbing pain in his arm acted out. Marinette reached out to him, examining his injury the best she could through the suit, until finally declaring;
“I think you bruised your arm. Stay here, I’ll get an ice pack.” She climbed down the ladder and slipped out through the trapdoor that led to the rest of her house, leaving Chat Noir alone.
For the first time, the blond boy took in his surroundings. Pink was his first thought. He was in his classmate’s room, on the mezzanine under the window that led to her balcony. The bed under him was covered in stuffed animals and plush white blankers, almost swallowing him completely. He decided he liked it there.
Marinette came back shortly after, pressing an ice-cold plastic pack filled with bright blue gel on his arm, numbing the pain almost instantly. They stayed in silence for a while, Chat Noir letting his injury be treated with Marinette sitting right next to him. After a moment, she finally lifted her gaze from the ice pack and asked;
“What happened?”
It was a simple question, but Chat found that he had no answer to it. The words got stuck in his throat, keeping him from forming a single coherent sentence. The feeling of terror from before was gone, leaving him feeling absolutely, completely devastated. And so, when he tried speaking again, the only thing that passed his lips was a sob.
Marinette blinked in surprise as her partner completely broke down in front of her. But her response was immediate; She held him closely to her, letting him wrap his arms around her middle and bury his face in her stomach as he told her every thought that had plagued his mind in the past weeks. Every doubt, every fear. He told her about Ladybug, about the article, about how he was so terrified of being broken, of being unlovable because of it. And Marinette listened to every shaky word, every broken sentence he spoke. She listened, holding him as physically close as she could, hugging him and petting him and trying to take away all his sorrows.
It was late at night when Chat finally calmed down, heavy sobs reduced to shaky sniffles every now and then. He grimaced at the throbbing headache, immediately regretting his breakdown. After a few minutes if heavy silence, Marinette spoke again hesitantly;
“Chat… Have you ever heard of asexuality?”
The boy frowned, standing up so he was facing the brunette, but never quite breaking the contact between them. He shook his head.
“It’s a type of orientation, for people who don’t experience any sexual attraction towards anyone.” She explained. “There’s a whole bunch of people like that out there, who just don’t want sex. They’re not broken, there’s nothing wrong with them… It’s just who they are.”
“Really?” Chat asked, and his eyes were more hopeful than Marinette had ever seen them.
Marinette hummed, and Chat Noir managed to give her a semblance of a smile. It quickly wavered, and when he spoke again his voice was small and unsure.
“I-I love Ladybug.” He said. “I genuinely do. But, all that stuff… I just don’t want it, not with anyone. Everyone acts like sex is such a big deal in a relationship and I… I’m just scared that she won’t want to be with me because of that… That no one ever will.”
“Chat…” Marinette tightened her grip on his gloved hand. “You’re not unlovable because you don’t want to sleep with anyone. And it doesn’t make your love for someone any less valid. You know Ladybug better than I do, do you honestly think that she’d let something that trivial bother her?”
“No but..”
“But nothing.” The brunette cut him off. “I’m sure she won’t mind. If she really wants to be with you, then she won’t let something like this bother her. And if she does… Well she wasn’t worth your time in the first place.” She smiled. “You’re allowed to love people in your own way, chaton… It might not be how most people do it, but it doesn’t make your way any less valid.”
Chat Noir gave her a smile, wider and more confident this time. “Thanks Mari.”
She smiled back. “Oh, wait.” She turned around, snatching a notebook and pen from the nightstand next to her. She flipped it open at a random page and started writing. Chat watched patiently as she ripped the page from the notebook and handed it to her. Looking down at it, he realised she had written a bunch of websites.
“Check them out. You’ll see you’re not alone in this.” She smirked. “You’ll feel right at home in the ace community, they’re very fond of puns.” Marinette couldn’t recall seeing Chat Noir beam at her any brighter than he did in that moment.
Her hand was still holding his, rubbing soothing circles just above his thumb. She looked down at his gloved hands, and smile as she said;
“Do you want to hear something funny?” The feline nodded. “Ace people often wear black rings that look a lot like yours…” She brushed her thumb over his miraculous. And, so quietly that Chat Noir almost missed it, she added; “And mine.”
Her partner blinked at her for a minute, seemingly lost, and finally looked down on their intertwined fingers. On Marinette’s middle finger was a ring he hadn’t noticed before, a plain black band.
“Oh.” He gaped. “You mean you’re… Oh.”
The brunette smiled, chuckling softly as she pulled her loose hair behind her ear.
“Looks like you crashed on the right roof.” She teased. Her smiled softened, and she asked; “How’s your arm?”
Chat Noir smile softly. They both knew it was just a bruise, and the pain had subsided a while ago. From her tone, and the intensity in her eyes, Marinette knew just as well as he did that the question wasn’t really about his injury.
“Better.” He said. “Thanks.”
“Good.” Marinette sighed in relief. “I’m glad I could help.”
They stayed in silence for a little while, the black masked hero not quite ready to leave yet. It was nice here, comfortable. He was feeling better, but in that instant he was in perfect company, and he didn’t want this moment to end.
Marinette seemed to share his idea when she suddenly perked up and asked;
“You know what sounds a lot better than sex right now?”
Back after a ridiculously long hiatus and an unfortunate change of accounts. Previous chapters are still on my old account @schizomiikado
Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3
Giant thanks to @thecookiemonster77 and @totallynotmiraculace for proof-reading this and lending me their OC babies so the whole @miraculace squad could shine in their full asexual glory.
Summary: The Collège Françoise Dupont decides to throw a masked ball in celebration of Ladybug and Chat Noir saving the school and its students countless times. Marinette knew this would be a special event, but the surprises the preparation and actual ball brought were far beyond her wildest dreams. Especially when her long time crush and a certain alley cat get thrown into the mix…
Pairing: Marichat & Adrinette
Chapter 4: Ribbons & Flowers
Read on AO3: here
Out of the entire Dupain-Cheng household, Marinette's room was always the neatest. Her clothes were always clean and folded in her cupboard, her school books stacked in her bag and her sewing supplies stored away in their respective boxes. Not even on her worst day would you find a dirty sock forgotten under the bed or a random knick-knack hidden in shame behind some furniture.
Today however, the place was unrecognisable, looking as if a hurricane had turned everything upside down. Clothes were pulled out of cupboard and drawers, tossed recklessly on the floor or any other available surface—one shirt was even hanging from the ceiling light. Shoes littered the ground and jewellery was scattered on the desk.
Tikki was perched on top of a shelf, where she was safe from any unfortunate hit by things that were being thrown one place or another. She let out a sigh, observing the black-haired girl in her underwear that was panicking in the midst of it all.
« Marinette, what are you doing? » She asked sadly. « You've been running around for two hours... »
« I don't have anything to wear, Tikki! » The brunette squeaked, looking up to her kwami with pure panic in her eyes. When Tikki sent a sober stare at the clothes covering every available spot on the floor, Marinette groaned. « I mean I can't find anything good to wear! Adrien will be here to pick me up in an hour and I can't find a good outfit! »
« You have plenty of good outfits! » Tikki tried to cheer her up. « Why are you putting so much thought into this? »
« Because! » Marinette pulled at the roots of her hair. « I don't know what this is! »
She had been mulling over this day ever since the group had agreed that she and Adrien would team up to buy the crafts supplies. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out whether or not today was a date. Adrien had insisted that they go together, but they were only going to buy supplies for the ball. He had promised to take her to a special fabric shop, but he was only doing her a favour. He hadn't said it was a date, but what if he thought it was and she completely blew him off? She wouldn't be able to live with herself after that! And if it wasn't a date and she showed up overdressed, she'd look ridiculous and she'd probably make Adrien feel uncomfortable! She didn't want him to stop being friends with her so soon because of a stupid mistake!
« Ahhh! » She screamed, curling into a ball at the feet of the cupboard, burying her face in her knees.
« Marinette... » Tikki flew down from her perch to hug the girl's face, trying to convey some strength to her. « You're going to be okay. All those outfits are lovely, and Adrien will be happy to see you whatever you wear, I promise! »
« How could you possibly know that? » Marinette moaned, her voice muffled by her legs.
« I'm a kwami. » Tikki shrugged, trying to lift the girl's chin until she looked up from her knees. « We know stuff. »
Marinette chuckled, aware that her friend was blatantly lying, but she appreciated the thought nonetheless.
« I wish I could just go as Ladybug… » She sighed thoughtfully. « At least she doesn’t have to worry about tripping over her words in front of Adrien. »
The kwami frowned slightly. She didn’t like seeing Marinette depreciate herself compared to her superhero alter-ego. She had gotten in her mind that she wasn’t worth as much outside of the costume, and wouldn’t listen to the voice of reason—or at least Tikki’s voice—when told otherwise.
« Marinette, Adrien likes you… » She said, and kept speaking before the brunette could interrupt her. « Alya likes you, and so does Nino and all those other people in your life. They like you because you’re caring, and talented, and incredible in more ways than one. You were all of those things before you became Ladybug, and you’re still all of these things when you’re not wearing a mask and fighting akumas. » Marinette was looking at her, and Tikki hovered closer to her face so she wouldn’t miss a word. « You’re Ladybug because you’re exceptional, not the other way around. »
A small smile etched its way on Marinette’s lips, looking a little more assured as she looked up from her knees.
« Do you really believe that? » She asked.
« More than anything. »
With that, Marinette was on her feet, looking at the disaster of clothes around her. She planted her hands on her hips, rolling the tension out of her shoulders, and declared;
« Let’s find something to wear, then! »
Tikki cheered, and together they scavenged through the piles of clothes to find something the perfect outfit.
Twenty minutes later, Marinette was finally dressed and ready, looking approvingly at her reflection in the mirror. She had finally opted for a simple dress she had designed and sewed a while back. The sleeveless white top with black polka dots and a peter pan collar complimented nicely the vivid red skirt. Accessorized with black flat heels, a thin belt and light make-up, and the result was deemed satisfying.
« See? » Tikki asked, smiling widely as she floated around Marinette. « We found you an outfit with time to spare! And you look stunning, Marinette! »
The girl chuckled, finishing pulling her hair into a messy bun. « Thanks Tikki » She smiled, twisting a few loose strands to frame her face.
Right on time, her phone buzzed from its spot on her desk. Marinette checked it and announced that Adrien was right around the corner. She grabbed her bag, making sure that she had packed the money for her errands, and brought along enough cookies for Tikki during the day. The kwami took that as her cue and went to hide in the comfort of the purse. With one last glance in the mirror, Marinette was running down the stairs.
Halfway through the bakery, she was called out by her parents. The girl stopped, glancing at the limousine that was parked outside and eager to make her way out, but finally complied and turned to face her parents. Tom and Sabine Dupain-Cheng were beaming down on their daughter, and Marinette immediately knew that whatever conversation they were hoping to have, it would be less than pleasing on her side.
« Off to your date already? » Her mother asked, grinning widely, and Marinette couldn’t help but flush at her words.
« Mom! » She chastised. « I told you, it’s not a date! We’re just buying supplies for the ball! »
« Is Alya going to be with you as well? »
« N-No… » Marinette admitted, face burning. « It’s just the two of us… »
« Sounds like a date to me » She heard her dad whisper from across the counter, where he was serving Mrs. Dupont, the old lady that lived across the street. She old woman smiled, answering with something along the line of « Ah, young love! »
« Well it’s not! » The teen insisted, earning a chuckle from the three adults.
« Well then… » Sabine came forwards, holding out a box with the name of the bakery written in beautiful golden letters. « Would you mind giving those to your non-date? » She asked, and explained; « They’re macarons, we just finished making a new batch and we’d like to thank him for… Keeping you company! »
Her motives were fishy, but Marinette accepted the box nonetheless, trying to cut short to the conversation. She quickly informed her parents that her phone was charged and she’d be back before her curfew, and with that she was out the door before anything more embarrassing could be added.
The limousine was parked right in front of the bakery, sticking out despite the neighbourhood being quite classy. The windows were tinted, and Marinette quickly wondered if she was supposed to knock or simply get inside, before the door on the other side of the car swung open and cut short to her pondering. Adrien was quick to reach her sides, smiling happily as he greeted her.
« Hey Marinette! » He said cheerfully. « That dress is lovely, it really suits you. »
The brunette flushed heavily at the comment, and stuttered to get any kind of answer out. Adrien looked pretty handsome himself, wearing a moss green sweater with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, as well as simple black jeans that hugged his legs perfectly. Fashionable but not tacky, as was expected from the son of a famous designer.
« Thank good! » Marinette piped up, tripping over her words. « I—I mean t-thank you! You look too good—Ah! Y-You look good too! More than good! You look great, you’re great! I-I mean—you—Ah… » Her shoulders slumped and she stared at the ground, infuriated that she had managed to make a fool of herself after barely one sentence spoken to each other.
If he noticed, Adrien seemed unbothered, and he simply chuckled good-naturedly before pointing back towards the bakery.
« Should I go greet your parents? So they know you’re not being taken by a weird stranger. »
« No!! » Marinette’s face turned beet red when she realized how loudly she had shouted. Adrien looked shocked, staring at her with wide eyes, but the idea of having him and her over-eager parents in the same room trumped any embarrassment. « Y-You don’t have to! » She shook her head, trying to appear as casual as possible. « I told them I’d be with you, and they send their hello—Ah, and this! » She added, holding out the mint green box in her hands.
Adrien eyed the box curiously, but instantly lit up when he saw the perfect rows of colourful macarons that were held inside. The smell alone was delightful, and he felt like he was in heaven.
« Thank you! » He smiled, holding the box close to him without appearing too much like he was hugging it. He turned back towards the car. « Shall we go? »
Marinette nodded, not trusting her voice to answer. She was still slightly star-struck from the look of pure bliss on Adrien’s face when he saw the macarons. She made a mental note to herself; Affection bought by food.
Adrien held the passenger door open, and she slipped inside as he walked around the car to sit next to her. She was still a bit stiff, feeling awkward in the confined leather-clad space offered by the car. Adrien carefully placed the box of sweets on the seat across from his—looking slightly anxious at the idea alone of spilling them if the car took a sharp turn—and he turned to face Marinette.
« Where should we go first, then? »
The girl jumped slightly, and fumbled to get a small notebook out of her purse. She flipped it open and read the words scribbled on the page.
« Our first stop should be at the arts and craft store to buy all the small accessories. » She announced, focus helping her speak more fluently. « I know a good one near Notre Dame. It has several floors and they always have everything I’m looking for, I think it’s a good start. We can go buy the fabric after, but that means we shouldn’t get too carried away there first, if we want to stick to the budget. Maybe if we split here and— » She kept talking, pointing out various ideas on how to manage their time and money in order to be the more efficient possible. Adrien smiled at the image of this business-focused Marinette, almost the polar opposite of the shy and stuttering girl he was used to. He also noted that he didn’t mind either side of her. After a few minutes, Marinette suddenly stopped, blanching as she realized she had been rambling for a while. « I-I mean, it’s just an idea! » She said, regressing back to her usual sputtering self. « We can do whatever you want! »
Adrien smiled warmly, hoping to put her at ease. « Art and crafts store sounds good. » He notified his driver, and soon the car drove off.
The ride was quiet for the most part, aside from the few comments made on each side about the school life and homework. Adrien mentioned in passing that he was thrilled about the ball, and Marinette replied that she hoped she’d get enough time to finish the dressed. They were silent after that.
Thankfully, the ride was over quickly, and Marinette was glad she could get out of the car. Confined in such a tight space with Adrien, she had been barely moments away from having a heart attack. Her face still hadn’t returned to its original colour, but she visibly relaxed when she saw the art and crafts store on the other side of the street. Adrien quickly reached her side, and they made their way into the store.
Inside, Adrien watched as Marinette greeted a few store clerks with enough familiarity to make it obvious that she had come here countless times before. He followed obediently behind as she wandered through the different isles, eyes focused on her list in her hands all the while carefully scanning the shelves as they walked past them. Now and then, she would comment on the price of this or the quality of that, but Adrien knew that her words were directed to no one in particular, and he was content just listening to her talk in a fluid manner that was rarely addressed to him. He enjoyed it, he realized after a while. He liked watching Marinette in her natural element, free of any embarrassment or shyness. He liked seeing her focused and confident, although her usual awkwardness was still endearing to him as well. She had many facets, countless sides of her he had yet to discover, and he was eager to see them all. He was glad they were finally growing as friends, beyond the casual ‘hellos’ in class.
She asked for his opinion every now-end-then, as he was in charge of keeping an eye on the budget. She spoke with less assurance when she knew Adrien was listening, but she spoke nonetheless, and they made quick progress in their task.
After a while, they made their way to the checkout counter, arms overflowing with countless supplies. Marinette dropped everything on the counter, and looked down on her purchases with satisfaction, hands planted on her hips. The woman behind the counter gave them a sweet look while rounding everything up, and the two teens worked methodically to stuff their purchases in bags. They made a great team, Marinette noted while stuffing a large bottle of glue in a paper bag, both in sync with each other even in mundane tasks like this one. It had taken them less than an hour to gather all the things from the list, and as she eyed the many bags full of supplies waiting on the counter, the brunette realized that their speed had actually been quite impressive.
Adrien paid the bill, quickly scribbling the amount of money they still had left from their budget, and gave a quick nod to Marinette.
« You had a great idea suggesting we make the decorations ourselves, Marinette. » Adrien complimented. « It’ll take more time but I’m glad the ball room will look the way we planned, I was afraid we’d have to settle for whatever we found in the store. »
Marinette gave a small smile. Years of experience in arts and crafts had taught her that relying on store-bought supplies generally implied that things would end up looking quite different from what you had in mind. By doing everything themselves, they were sure everything would be perfect for the ball—and the time spent with Adrien on decoration-making was worth all the extra work in the world.
They walked out of the store, and Adrien's driver was waiting by the limousine. Marinette felt a bit bad, feeling like she was forcing the poor man to wait on them while they went from shop to shop. The driver however seemed unbothered, as he took a few of the heavier bags out of her arms and set them down in the trunk of the car.
The ride to the fabric shop was less awkward than before, with Adrien making most of the conversation—he had trouble hiding his excitement for the ball and the preparations—and only stopping to ask his driver to drop them off in front of a train station. The two teens got out of the car, and Marinette obediently followed behind as Adrien took the lead and guided her through a large street. The brunette’s eyes were wide in wonder, staring dreamily at her surroundings. The shops around them sold almost exclusively fabric and sewing supplies, with rolls of fabric piling up on tables and shelves in an array of more colours and patterns than she had ever seen in her life.
Adrien barely held back a laugh when he turned around to check on his friend and found her standing a few feet behind, staring amorously at the little stalls of fancy looking fabric that flowed out of the shop and onto the sidewalk. Chuckling softly, the boy called out for her, and Marinette’s face flushed deeply when she realized she’d been distracted. She hurried to Adrien’s side, face turning beet red when he rested a hand on her lower back to lead her through the crowd.
Their journey—emotionally trying as it was for the brunette—was quickly over as Adrien squeezed into a narrow alley, away from the busy street and hand holding onto Marinette’s wrist to make sure she wouldn’t get separated from him. Rough concrete gave way to a cobbled street, and after a sharp turn at a corner they entered a small courtyard. The place was empty and bathed in a peaceful silent. A few buildings were lined around the courtyard, much less high and looking older than the ones the teens had passed on the main street. Vines crept on the stone fronts of the first floor, framing the old doors and windows as colourful flowers were lined outside, freshly watered and glimmering in the dim light that filtered through the buildings around them.
Seeing as there was no way Marinette could’ve lost sight of Adrien in the small courtyard, it was no longer useful for the boy to keep hold of her wrist, but he didn’t let go, much to Marinette’s content. She vaguely wondered if he had forgotten he was holding her, but she decided not to point it out, instead relishing in the proximity.
He led her to the very end of the street, stopping in front of an old looking shop almost completely covered in plants. The shop was nameless, indistinguishable from the other buildings if not for its wooden front and for the old wooden sign that hung over the front door. She sign held no writings, simply engraved with a sewing needle and a reel of thread. Showing no hesitation whatsoever—even though Marinette’s stomach was churning—Adrien pushed the front door and they stepped inside, announced by the quiet chiming of a bell.
The shop, front the inside, had the same antique look as the outside. The room was quite large, but felt narrow and stuffy from the hundreds of rolls of fabric lined neatly on counters and walls, climbing all the way to the ceiling. Right next to the door was a wooden shelf holding more types and colours of thread than Marinette had ever thought imaginable. On the opposite side of the shop, reels of ribbons of all colours were neatly arranged on shelves and open drawers. Small desk lamps were scattered all over the shop, hanging from odd places and bathing the shop in faint patches of light. The whole place smelled of dust and hot coffee, and Marinette had never felt so much at home.
Adrien was more focused on the girl’s reaction than on the shop itself, watching as she took the place in, eyes shining in wonder. He’d seen many expressions on the brunette’s face at school—shyness and embarrassment when she was talking to him, mostly, but also happiness when she was talking to Alya, pride when she spoke of her designs and confidence when she stood up for the things she believed in—but this one was by far his favourite.
The teens were both so lost in their contemplation, they almost forgot where they were, and neither noticed the old lady rising from the counter in a corner of the shop.
« Well well, if this isn’t Mr. Agreste. » She said, grinning in contained amusement as the two kids jumped out of their skin. « I haven’t seen you in quite a while. » Her gazed trailed lower, to where Adrien’s hand was stilling holding Marinette’s wrist. « And I see you brought a lady friend. » Her voice was full of hidden insinuation, and her amusement only grew when the teens fumbled to let go of each other, faces flushed, having visibly forgotten that they were still holding hands. The lady chuckled, and turned her back, ambling towards the back door that led further into the building. « Don’t be shy now, » She said, « I’m not one to go against young love, and your father won’t hear a peep about it from me. Now don’t you move, I’ll bring back tea and we can discuss what you two came here for. » And she was gone before they could argue.
The two teens stayed in awkward silence for a while, fumbling next to each other with stuttered apologies. Adrien rubbed the back of his neck, smiling shyly and looking away from Marinette for a moment. « It’s weird, » He said as an explanation. « She saw me with Chloé a few times but never said anything like that before. », and in an attempt to lighten the mood, he added, « I guess we just make a cuter couple. » This only made the girl tense up more, and Marinette gave a ‘oh’ of approval and went to look around the shop, distracting herself from her own thoughts.
« D-Do you come here? A-A lot I mean? » She asked, taking advantage of the narrow room to talk to Adrien from opposite sides of the shop without having to raise her voice. She was desperate to get the conversation started on any other topic, unsure her heart could take any more of this without imploding.
« I used to come here with my mom all the time when I was a kid. » Adrien explained. « I don’t come as much now, although father took me there once or twice before… I haven’t been around in a while, but I’ve always loved this shop. » He raised his gaze and met eyes with Marinette, voice soft as he said. « I thought you’d like it here. »
The girl’s eyes widened in surprise at the honesty and care that filtered through Adrien’s words. She hadn’t realized until then that this wasn’t just any other fabric shop. It was a place that meant a lot to him, like a secret he was sharing with her. Showing her this place was a token of his affection, and although it wasn’t exactly the kind of affection she craved from him—in spite of everything happening, Adrien was simply offering his friendship, nothing more—it was one that she was more than willing to receive.
« Thank you, » Marinette said, and her voice was impossibly soft. « I love it. »
Conversation came more naturally after that, with Marinette focused on the fabrics and Adrien standing next to her, captivated by all the things she knew and the confidence with which she spoke. Of course, she still flushed and stuttered occasionally—when she caught him looking at her or when their hands accidentally touched while reaching for the same piece of fabric. But all in all their time in the shop went by seamlessly.
It was getting closer to the mid-afternoon, and a few bags of carefully chosen fabric was already awaiting them on the counter, when Adrien noticed Marinette lingering in a corner of the shop, her back turned to him. When he reached her side, he saw her holding a piece of black lace, handling the fabric with care as she examined it under the dim light of the shop.
« It’s nice. » Adrien pointed out. He noted happily that the brunette didn’t jump in surprise at his proximity this time. Spending hours stuck in a tiny shop next to him had gradually made her more comfortable with his presence. « For a personal project? »
« For the ball. » Marinette smiled at him, before focusing back on the lace. « I still haven’t found the design for my mask, and I think this would look nice. » She frowned slightly, looking disappointedly at the fabric. « But it’s a bit over-priced, I might have to find something cheaper elsewhere… » Her fingers lingered on the fabric before she reluctantly let go. Her eyes trailed on the lace for a little while longer before glancing up to Adrien, and asking; « Do we have everything on the list? »
« Oh! » Adrien jumped, pulling a crumbled paper out of his pocket. His eyes skimmed the list, mentally checking off the items they had already picked up. « Yes I think that’s all! »
« Great! » The brunet beamed at him. « Then I guess we can ring it all up and we’ll be done! »
Adrien nodded. « I’ll take care of that, I have to talk to the owner as well. » His smile was a little sheepish, and Marinette took that as her cue.
« Oh, sure! I’ll wait for you outside, then. » She thanked the lady for her time, promised to come visit soon when she’d need more fabric, and stepped out into the courtyard again as Adrien finished with the errands.
Marinette sat on a cement bloc outside the shop, simply enjoying the view of the little courtyard full of flowers, and the fresh breeze that tickled her face. She could hear the muffled sound of talking rising from inside the shop, and when she turned to look through the window she saw Adrien leaned over the counter, deep in conversation with the owner. Marinette turned again, not wanting to intrude, and instead closed her eyes and focused on the soft ringing of the chimes hung on one of the doors outside.
She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and seeing Adrien’s amused smile as he looked down at her, Marinette realized she might’ve dozed off.
« Are you done? » She asked.
« Yep, sorry for making you wait. » Adrien smiled apologetically. « Are you tired? »
He looked genuinely worried, and Marinette couldn’t help but smile at the sight. « No, it’s just peaceful here, I was lost in thoughts. » She looked down at the bags of fabric in his hands. « Do you want me to carry anything? »
Adrien shook his head. « No, but take this. » He dug through one of the bags, fishing out a small paper bag. « It’s for you. »
Marinette took the package hesitantly, glancing curiously at her friend. Adrien gave her a reassuring nod, and she opened the bag, gasping when she saw what it contained.
« It’s the lace I saw earlier! » She said in disbelief. « You bought it? »
The boy smiled. « You seemed to really like it; I thought it’d be a shame to ruin your costume by using a different fabric. » Marinette tried to refuse, insisting that she couldn’t accept a gift—especially this—when she’d done nothing for him. « Let’s just say it’s a thank you gift for the macarons. » He said, and winked as he walked past her, back into the busy street.
Marinette stared, star struck, as the blond boy casually slipped into the crowd. Her cheeks were burning a bright red, now, as a warm feeling settled in her stomach. Adrien had bought her a gift. Adrien had bought her an actual, real gift! She couldn't believe it! She pressed the little paper bag to her heart, feeling her entire body buzz with excitement as she fought back the urge to squeal. But before she could get too carried away in her own excitement, Adrien called back to her, and she rushed to catch up with him, face still heavily flushed.
When the two teens reached the edge of the little alley, a bell rung heavily in the distance, its steady rhythm beating thrice and stopping, the last ring echoing in the busy street. Marinette stopped dead in her tracks.
« It's three... » She commented, slightly surprised.
« I guess we stayed longer than we thought. » Adrien shrugged.
The brunette clapped her fingers over her mouth with a small gasp. « I've been keeping you here all day! » She cried. Adrien was a model, he had responsibilities, and probably better things to do than to hand out with her all day. « I'm so sorry! »
The blond gave her an amused smile. « It's fine, » He tried to reassure her. « I've cleared my schedule for today. Besides, I'm having fun here. »
With you. The implication made Marinette's face burn a bright crimson, but she shook her head.
« We skipped lunch because of me! »
Adrien frowned. None of this was the girl's fault. They were out running errands and both got distracted. He wanted to correct her, hating to see the guilt on her face, but knew it would be pointless. The more insistent he'd get, the more flustered Marinette would be. So instead, he tried to put her mind at rest by saying;
« I'm really not that hungry anyway. »
Apparently, this answer did not satisfy the brunette, who shook her head vehemently. Her mom would kill her if she knew she had kept Adrien from eating. She glanced around the corner of the street, where the limo was still parked and waiting patiently for them.
« Do you have a bit more time before going home? » She asked. Adrien nodded curiously, and Marinette shot him a mirthful grin. « Follow me, » She said, « I know the perfect place ». And with that she turned around, melting into the afternoon crowd.
Adrien tried his best to catch up with her, sometimes losing her in the flock of people around, and only spotting a pair of black pigtails every now-and-then. He watched Marinette dodge the other pedestrians with a surprising grace and confidence. The thought of his Lady came to mind, of how he somehow always found himself chasing after odd girls. Sure, the two girls behaved nothing alike, but in that instance the resemblance was striking, and the thought exhilarating.
The blond sped up, finally catching up with his classmate as the crowd thinned, until there were only a few passers-by around them. Marinette was still a couple of steps ahead of him, looking more at ease than he had ever seen her. She had her back turned to him, her face lifted slightly to the sky, and with the way her hands were stretched to the side, slightly away from her body, she almost looked like a tightrope walker. She was aerial, blindly dancing, confident enough that she didn't need her eyes to navigate through the street. Her feet were light and precise, never skipping, always knowing exactly where to fall to keep a perfect balance. It was a captivating sight, one that Adrien effortlessly got lost in.
He felt a jolt of surprise when she suddenly turned back to him with a look of blithe complicity, and mouthed for him to follow her. She dipped into a narrow alley, and Adrien made sure to follow closely behind, eager to see where this peculiar white rabbit would lead him.
They walked for a little while, getting lost in a maze of narrow streets and backyard passages. The sun was still high up, lighting their steps from above, painting the whole scenery in the most ethereal of glows.
« It's just a little further down this way. » Marinette confided, whispering like she was sharing a secret. Adrien nodded, feeling like the two of them were discovering places never explored before, his heart pounding in excitement.
The street in front of them widened slightly, revealing a series of small shops lined in a row, crammed together between larger buildings. Each store looked unique, with colourful wooden beams contrasting with old brick walls. None of the store fronts were bare, all of them covered with flowers or vines, twisting and turning on the facades. The whole street looked magical, especially in this peaceful quiet and with the warm afternoon sun hitting the stained-glass windows of the shops.
Marinette perked up when they reached the middle of the street, and turned to Adrien.
« The café is just around the corner, » She said excitedly. « You'll see, they have the best pies ever. »
Adrien somehow doubted that any place could compare with the Dupain-Cheng's bakery, and was about to say so when he was cut off by a shrill scream.
« Marinette! » Came a small voice behind them.
The two teens twisted around to see a small figure emerge from the tiny flower shop they had just passed. She was a girl in her mid-twenties, her hair a striking white under an oversized straw hat and teal eyes looking excitedly at the newcomers as she rushed from behind a large display of flowers. Adrien couldn't help but gape; She was tiny, at least a foot shorter than Marinette, with scrapes on her arms and legs, not to mention the various colourful bandages already on her knees. She was wearing denim overall shorts over a dirt-stained green shirt hidden behind the oversized bouquet she was still carrying.
All-in-all, she was a peculiar girl, and with the way she seemed to flutter towards them more than actually walk, Adrien was vaguely reminded of a hummingbird.
« Héloïse! » Marinette smiled widely, hugging the strange girl when she reached their sides, mindful not to crush the flowers.
« Sweetie, we haven't seen you around here in ages! » She berated good-naturedly. « Don't make me call your parents to scold them for keeping you away from the shop! » She giggled, the sound light and bright, oddly similar to the tweeting of a bird. « You know Gérard misses you. »
Finally, she seemed to acknowledge Adrien's presence, and she turned to the boy. « Hi! » Héloïse greeted warmly, taking off one dirty gardening glove and holding out her hand for Adrien to shake. « I'm Héloïse Lépine, I run this little piece of paradise back there. » She gestured at the flower shop behind her. « You must be one of Mari's friends, right? »
Adrien smiled at the girl's enthusiasm. He held out his own hand, already fond of that weird character, and swallowed back a surprised gasp when the florist grabbed his in her surprisingly strong grip. « Nice to meet you. » He choked out.
« Héloïse supplied flowers for a few events where my parents were catering » Marinette explained with a smile. « She complimented their food and my mum basically adopted her into the family after that. »
« Mari's been hanging out around the shop ever since she was a tiny spitfire » Héloïse added with a laugh. « Always hovering around my flowers, a real little bug this girl, I swear! »
The brunette shrugged sheepishly, and quickly changed the subject. « This is Adrien, » She gestured at the blond beside her. « We were out on a supply run for the school's ball. »
« Oh, Adrien... » The girl said knowingly, and Adrien wondered how much she had heard of him. Maybe she was familiar with his father, or his modelling jobs, because somehow it seemed improbable that Marinette mentionned him to a family friend. Up until quite recently, they hadn't been that close so really, so why would she? « Well it's a pleasure to meet you. » Héloïse said after a short silence, granting the boy a warm smile. « So what are you crazy kids up to? »
« We just finished shopping, and got a bit carried away... » Marinette admitted. « We were on our way to Andy's café. »
« Oh, of course! » The florist exclaimed. « Andy was just about to join me at the shop for their break, I could always ask them to bring some food here? » They agreed to that, and Marinette and Héloïse discussed what food to order, asking Adrien for his preferences but the blond mostly trusting their choices since he wasn't familiar with the café's cooking. Finally, Héloïse pulled out a phone from her apron. « You two go wait in the backroom, » She waved them off. « Mari, you know your way around. Clara should be inside; she'll unlock the door for you. »
And with that, the two teens trailed back into the little flower shop. Marinette gestured for Adrien to follow her towards the back. He was unsure, feeling like he was intruding, but any attempt to protest died as he went further into the shop, eyes roaming the room in wonder. He had always liked flowers, and flower shops always had a charming atmosphere, but this one in particular was simply magical. Flowers of different shapes, sizes and colours overflowed on shelves and tables around the shop; They climbed the walls and hung from the ceiling, with vines and leaves wrapping themselves around the few hanging lamps in the shop. And if that hadn't been enough, the most delightful smell of freshly cut flowers overpowered all his senses and short-circuited the part of his brain that had any problem with this situation.
They reached a small wooden counter, and Marinette rang the single golden bell on top of it. The chime echoed in the shop for a short while, and finally some steps were heard from the narrow staircase climbing along the side wall of the shop and leading to a small mezzanine floor. A head poked out from over the handrail, and soon another girl was coming their way. She was about Marinette's height—blatantly less minuscule than Héloïse—with her chestnut hair up in a messy bun on the top of her head. Her uniform seemed a bit more makeshift, with only an embroided apron over what seemed to be casual clothes. The name of the shop was written in dark green cursives; Vert Tige. Adrien bit back a grin at the pun.
« Marinette! » She called. « It's been ages! » When she reached the teen's sides, she hugged the girl and greeted the both of them—although with less profusion than the petite florist before. She seemed a whole lot calmer than Héloïse, but somehow the girl emanated a gentle warmth that Adrien immediately found comforting.
« Clara works part-time here, when she's not a tour guide at the museum. » Marinette explained, before turning her attention to the other girl. « Héloïse said to wait in the backroom while Andy brings us lunch from the café. »
« Oh, right this way then. »
She led them to a small hidden door behind the counter. It was almost entirely covered in flowers, almost indiscernible from the rest of the wall aside from a tiny wooden sign that said "no entry". Clara unlocked the door and stepped aside for the two teens to walk in. She smiled told them Andy should be there any minute now, and with that she left, scurrying along back up the small stairs in the back of the shop to the second floor.
Inside was a small room with only a glass coffee table, a fluffy looking couch and—Adrien noted in bewilderment—more carnivorous plans than he could keep count of. The ceiling was lower, and the boy had to slough slightly to avoid the nepenthes hanging from the ceiling. Marinette sat down on the couch, and Adrien shyly took the spot next to her. As much as he loved the place, he felt oversized in this tiny room. That feeling only worsened when he stretched his legs under the coffee table and felt his foot hit something, and an evil looking tortoise crawled from underneath.
« Hello Gérard! » Marinette cooed, bending down to pet the reptile, who snapped lazily at her fingers.
Adrien took a moment to take in the strange flowers that covered every surface available in the room. Some of these were beautiful, with vivid colours and sweet scents, yet all of them were kept from the customers’ eyes. Curious as a cat, he wondered out loud why those particular flowers weren't in the front of the shop with the others.
« Héloïse gets... Eccentric, when it comes to carnivorous plants. » Marinette explained with an amused. « She'll only show them to people who she trusts to take proper care of them. She says a lot of people want something pretty, but won't go through the trouble of nurturing them properly, so she hides then here and only shows them to a few select customers. »
The blond boy hummed in agreement, understanding her motives to some extent, despite it being a very strange business decision. He was still trying to register all the odd details of the shop when the pixie-sized florist came skipping into the little back room, with Clara right on her heels. The blonde had taken off her hat and cleaned most of the dirt off her body and clothes.
« Lunch will be there in a few minutes! » Héloïse chimed. The teens both thanked her, and Adrien apologized for being an inconvenience. « Not at all! » She waved it off, « We haven't seen Mari in ages, and it's always nice to have some company! » She gave them a warm smile, which the two teens returned, and went on to chat with Clara and Marinette about the flowers on her balcony.
Adrien noted how much he liked this place, despite not having been there long. It was peaceful, feeling miles away from the rest of the world. The shop was small, but it felt comfortable more than stuffy, like a little cocoon of greenery.
A few minutes later, a chime came from the front door, and a loud voice called out, cutting short to Adrien's daydreaming and interrupting the two girls' conversation;
« Hey short stuff! I got your food! »
Clara sighed with the tired aggravation of someone used to such antics. Héloïse huffed, visibly miffed—at the nickname or at the interruption, Adrien couldn't tell—and yelled back, in a voice that caught the boy off guard, seeming way too loud to come out of such a small girl;
« Well get your Sasquatch ass over here! Or do you need me to hold your hand, too? »
Almost right on cue, the newcomer walked into the room, carrying two large paper bags over their shoulder. They were quite tall—especially compared to the petite florist who was now standing in front of them, glaring up menacingly—with tan skin and wild cinnamon curls that went all the way down to their back. Their chocolate brown eyes scanned the room, and lit up when they fell on Marinette.
« Hey Squirt! » They called happily, walking around Héloïse like she was nothing more than a piece of furniture to go hug Marinette. "Haven't seen you in a while, it's good that you dropped by to say hello! »
« Hi Andy, » Marinette giggled, hugging them back. « This is Adrien; I brought him here for a late lunch. »
Adrien stood up to greet Andy as well and express his thanks for the food, finding them slightly more intimidating than the two other girls. But he quickly realised that Andy was just as welcoming as the others.
« Hi Adrien, » Andy smiled at the boy before turning towards the rest of the group. « Hi Clara, hi plants! » They turned their gaze towards the large tortoise on Marinette's knees, lips pursing in disgust. « Hello Satan. »
« Andy! » Clara chastised.
« Don't call my baby that! » Héloïse growled.
Andy turned around, glaring at the small girl and shoving a finger in her face menacingly. « That thing is mean and evil and I will fight you! »
The two started arguing—more loudly than was probably appropriate with guests over—until finally Clara intervened and forced them to sit on opposite sides of the room like grounded children.
« I'm so sorry for those two idiots. » She told the two teens, oblivious of the faces Andy and Héloïse were pulling behind her back. « They're worse than toddlers when they start bickering... »
Adrien and Marinette giggled, assuring the girl that it was no problem—quite the opposite, Adrien rarely saw that much animation outside of school—and the merry group proceeded to lay the food out on the small.
Lunch went smoothly, with Adrien and Marinette feasting on the homemade vegetable quiches Andy had brought, and the three others snacking on a few pastries. At some point they started arguing again when Andy insisted that Héloïse could not, in fact, feed via photosynthesis, and needed to eat real food even if that meant force-feeding her. But it was always all in good fun, and Adrien found himself really enjoying the time spent with this odd group of friends.
Things escalated quickly when Adrien mentioned that his mother used to grow Venus Flytraps in their greenhouse, amongst other plants, and Héloïse went into a heated spiel on proper carnivorous plant care, seemingly delighted when she realised that Adrien seemed to know a few facts on the topic. The poor boy found himself being dragged around the small room, from one planter to another, while Héloïse eagerly gave him little bits and pieces of information on each plant.
« This one is a Spoonleaf Sundew, » She explained excitedly, casting loving glances towards the plant. « It's name is Alex. »
« That devil has the most painful stomach acids, but don't worry it'll strangle you to death before digesting you... » Andy had been adding their own gruesome little comment for each plant, much to Héloïse's growing annoyance.
« This beautiful Cobra Lilly here is Antoinette— » She continued, ignoring Andy's hilarity behind her.
« Lures you in with promises to fulfil your deepest desires, and then snaps your head clean off your shoulders. »
« My gorgeous Gazelle here is a Byblis— » Héloïse continued through her teeth.
« Boring. » Andy sighed dramatically. « Prefers flies over human flesh. »
« And this handsome water baby right here is a Aldrovanda vesiculosa named Antonio. »
« Not the most exciting one, but it tastes like chicken... »
Héloïse stopped dead on her tracks, hand still hovering over the next flower. She whirled around, furious. « WHAT?! »
Before she could take an angry step towards them, Andy was slipping off the couch and backing towards the door. « Well would'ya look at the time! I gotta go bye! »
The petite florist ran after them at full speed, forcing Clara—who had been rolling her eyes at the exchange from the start—to apologize to the two dumbfounded teens and follow after her friends, making sure they didn't wreck too much havoc in the shop.
« I- I don't... What happened? » Adrien gaped at the door.
« You get used to it... » Marinette assured with a shrug.
The pair came back in the room after a few minutes, trailing sheepishly after Clara, who ordered them to sit down.
« Now apologize. »
« Sorry I joked about eating your babies. » Andy grumbled.
« Sorry I threw pruning shears at your face. » Héloïse said tightly, still looking very peeved.
« You don't look too sorry. » Marinette teased.
The florist shrugged. « I'm sorry I missed. »
In the end, lunch went by in a flash and soon the teens had to make their way back. With warm hugs and promises to be back soon, the two finally left the flower shop and sauntered back into the main street. The sun was lower, the sky taking a slightly redder hue now that it was late afternoon. The walk to the limo was quick, and the drive to Marinette's house even quicker.
Adrien made sure to walk her to her front door, where he was assaulted by her parents—much to Marinette's embarrassment—and wasn't left alone until he agreed to take a whole bag of leftover pastries home with him. Once they were finally left in peace, Marinette profusely apologised again for keeping him so long, and wouldn't stop no matter how much Adrien assured her it wasn't a problem. She also thanked him again for the, cheeks flushing slightly at the mention of the gift. She promised to show him the final product once she was done with the design, and finally Adrien bid the Dupain-Chengs goodbye and walked out of the bakery.
Exhaustion washed over him once he was alone in the back seat of the car. It felt a lot emptier now, and the boy gulped in apprehension of how cold and desolated his house would feel once he got home.
But his eyes fell on the mint green box of macarons still tucked carefully on the seat next to him, and he couldn't help but feel some of the warmth he had felt all day carry with him through the entire ride.
Once he got home, he went straight up to his room without so much as a word from his father or Nathalie, and flopped on the large sofa under the large windows. Munching on a couple of croissants, Adrien gazed up at the sun setting on the parisian rooftops—one of his favourite sights—and let his mind wonder to the pig-tailed brunette that had given him probably one of the best days he'd had in a long time.
Alya is the best wingwoman, Marinette forgets to be shy when talking about sewing, and LetAdrienEat2k16
Summary: The Collège Françoise Dupont decides to throw a masked ball in celebration of Ladybug and Chat Noir saving the school and its students countless times. Marinette knew this would be a special event, but the surprises the preparation and actual ball brought were far beyond her wildest dreams. Especially when her long time crush and a certain alley cat get thrown into the mix…
Pairing: Marichat & Adrinette
Chapter 3: Decoration Committee
Read on AO3: here
Marinette could not stop fidgeting.
For the past hour and a half she hadn’t stopped running across her bedroom for more than a minute, fixing this and that on her desk, her bed, her cupboard, all the while muttering comprehensibly to herself.
« Girl, calm down. » Alya advised, feeling slightly motion-sick from seing her friend so restless. « You’re shaking so much you’re practically vibrating. »
« But Alya! » The brunette cried, stopping dead in her tracks and spinning around to face her friend, absolute terror showing in her eyes. « Adrien’s fencing practice ended fifteen minutes ago! » She waved her arms around, as if that information alone was supposed to explain everything. « He’ll be here any minute now! What if he sees my room and thinks it’s gross! What it I left some underwear lying around and he finds it! What if I forgot to take down a picture of him and he sees it and thinks I’m a crazed fangirl and he never wants to see me again and we never fall in love and get married and— » She was in a frenzy now, not making any sense anymore as the words flowed in torrents, all jumbled up and without so much as a beat to catch her breath.
Having seemingly reached her breaking point, Marinette stopped her panic rant and crouched on the floor with a high-pitched moan, burying her face in her knees, hands tugging at the roots of her pigtails.
« Five times, Mari. » Alya shook her head, raising an eyebrow at the pitiful heap of despair that was her best friend. « We cleaned your room five times. Your underwear are with the rest of your clothes, in your cupboard, and all of your stalker pictures are in a box under your parents’ bed. » She sighed. « We even cleaned the bathroom in case Adrien ventured there. Everything is pristine clean. » The blogger checked her phone, sitting up from the chaise where she had been resting. « Now get up, Nino texted me that they had left Adrien’s practice five minutes ago, they should be here soon. »
Right on cue, the bell from the front door rang, and Marinette squeaked in terror. Rolling her eyes, Alya dragged the brunette by her sleeve out of her room, and the two girls ran down the stairs to greet their guests.
Anxiety gnawing at her stomach, Marinette knew the worst was yet to come. And as if the universe had decided to prove her right, the girl felt her heart leap into her throat at the sight of the scene that awaited her downstairs.
Adrien and Nino were standing in the doorway, looking slightly awkward as Tom and Sabine Dupain-Cheng shoved platters of baked goods in their face, both grinning knowingly down at the blonde boy whose face hey knew was plastered all over their daughter's bedroom walls.
« Hey girls. » Nino waved sheepishly, while Adrien was too busy stuffing his face with any delicacy that was sent his way, a look of pure bliss obvious on his face.
« Marinette, you never told us you had invited some friends over! » Mrs. Cheng cooed, stressing the word to convey that it wasn't Nino she was surprised to see.
Liars. « Maman, I told you I invited some classmates to work on the decoration for the ball. » Marinette hissed through her teeth, all the while trying to appear as casual as possible, a careful smile stuck on her otherwise flushed face.
« You never said Adrien would be here! » Her father boomed, clapping a large hand on the poor boy's back, almost causing him to choke on the macaron he had been eating. « I would've challenged the boy to some video games! To see if the boy's fit to become my future so— »
« Ah, well that's too bad! » Marinette cut him off, face burning a bright crimson. She glanced at her mother, silently begging for help. But the woman was of no help, giggling at the sight while offering yet another plate of cookies to the teenage boys. « We have some work no time to lose gotta go bye! »
And with that, Marinette all but shoved her friends up the stairs, leading a very heartbroken Adrien away from her parents—and their delicious pastries. Alya was obviously having the time of her life, watching Marinette's parents act like they were short of offering their daughter's hand in marriage. Nino was at complete loss, but his attention was quickly diverted to more important matters once they reached Marinette's room and he saw the girl's stereo system, dropping the question entirely to instead make it his personal duty to find the best possible music for the group to work on.
Adrien took a moment to look around Marinette's room. The whole place was clean but cluttered with little trinkets and pictures of friends that immediately made the room feel homie and warm, not cold and empty like his own house was. Marinette obviously had a passion for sewing—which he already knew of, ever since she had entered his father's competition a few months back—but the supplies and fabrics stacked around the room made it that much more obvious how dedicated the girl was to her hobby, and Adrien couldn't hold back a smile at the sight.
« Alright! » Alya clapped her hands, drawing the others' attention to her. « Let's talk business! »
The teens all gathered closer, Alya immediately claiming Marinette's chaise. Adrien took the spot on the floor, by her feet, and Nino pulled the desk chair around. Grabbing her notebook and the first pen she came across, Marinette sat cross-legged on the floor, as she usually did when studying, except this time she was seated directly across from Adrien. Focusing back on the matter at hand, she tried not to let the fact that her crush was sitting close to her in her own room where she lived and holy crap she was never cleaning that spot on the floor ever again get to her.
« Did you get any feedbacks from the others? » Alya asked.
« The class 5B wanted the theme to be something flashy like a rave. » Marinette read off her notes, bringing the bottom of her pen to her mouth and tapping her lips thoughtfully. « But I don't think that would really fit the purpose of the ball, and everyone else was aiming for something more classy. »
« Classy works for us. » Nino nodded. « The ball's gonna be in the Palace, and I don't think they would appreciate us throwing something too tacky. Chloé sure wouldn't allow it. »
« Who cares what Chloé wants. » Alya rolled her eyes. « If we leave her in charge, the theme of the ball will be a life-sized shrine to celebrate her. »
The group burst out laughing, casting a few extra jokes. Once their laughter had settled, Marinette scribbled a few words on her notebook and looked back up to her friends.
« I agree that the theme should be something classy. » She said. « Maybe suits and ball gowns. But we also need to make sure that Ladybug and Chat Noir feel comfortable showing up without putting their identities at risk. » After all, she still hasn’t figured out how to make an appearance as Marinette and Ladybug both.
Chat Noir sure as hell is lucky he isn't in this collège, she thought. « Maybe we could focus on a certain colour scheme? »
« I don't know... » Alya shook her head. « Green and red aren't really my colours. Besides we don't want the whole thing to look too Christmas-y. »
« How about masks? » Adrien suggested.
Marinette looked puzzled. « Masks? »
« Yeah, like a masked ball. » The blonde explained. « That way we can keep the theme fancy and still protect Ladybug and Chat Noir's identities. They'll just have to dress up like everyone else, and no one would know who they are. »
« But how will we differentiate them from the rest of us? » Nino questioned.
« We won't, that's the point. »
Marinette's mind seemed to click, and she felt excitement rushing through her as Adrien's idea appeared to be the perfect solution to her problem.
« That's a great idea! » She smiled, delighted. « This makes it so much more fun! The point of Ladybug and Chat Noir is that they could virtually be anyone. That way, if everyone wears a mask, then you can never truly pick them out of the crowd! »
« Exactly! » Adrien grinned, equally enthused « Everyone's a suspect. That way the thrill of finding out their identity remains and they won't spend the night being harassed by fans! »
« That's actually really clever... » Nino nodded. « Alright, so about the lighting... »
The group spent the next hour or so discussing the details of the decoration. Marinette made a point to write down everything they’d need to buy or make, and soon the floor around them was littered with papers, sketches and notes. They agreed on colours, fabrics, lighting, placement for the food and the DJ. Every single aspect was meticulously talked over by the group.
Soon, the conversation died down, with only the upbeat tune flowing from the stereo, and the teens laid in silence, sprawled out on the floor and chairs.
« I'm starving. » Nino complained.
« Aren't you always? » Adrien teased, which got him a kick in the shin.
« I guess we could go grab some drinks and snacks. » Marinette suggested, staring absentmindedly at the fairy lights on her wall. « There's a store down the street. »
Alya perked up at the occasion.
« Nino and I'll go! » She said, a wicked grin on her lips as she stared at her best friend. « You and Adrien can stay here and discuss the settings for the ball! »
Before Marinette could protest, the girl bounced on her feet and dragged Nino out of the room with her, but not without sending a wink to her friend before closing the door behind her.
Silence fell over the room, as Marinette and Adrien sat on the floor, gaze still stuck on the closed bedroom door.
Marinette's thoughts started racing, cold sweat running down her spine. She had no idea how to start up the conversation with Adrien. What if she said something stupid? What if they had nothing to talk about? That sure would be an awful way to start a relationship.
« Hey, do you have some extra paper? » Adrien asked, cutting short to the girl's rumination. He smile softly, waiting for a reply.
« Err... Y-yeah. » Marinette nodded, gulping down the knot that had formed in her throat. She pointed a finger and added. « On the desk. »
Adrien’s smile widened to a more genuine one, and he stood up, walking the short distance that separated him from the desk, while Marinette was still reviewing all the possible ice-breakers she could use.
« Marinette, what's that? »
The girl's blood turned cold. This was the end, she knew it. Her greatest fear had come to life and Adrien had found some pictures or other evidence of Marinette’s stalker tendencies. He was going to call her out on it, probably storm off and call the cops on her. She'd spend the rest of her life in jail and they'd never get married and live happily ever after. She couldn't go to jail! What about Ladybug? What about her career as a fashion designer? Sure she could work out and get super ripped but then how would she—
« W-What? » She asked, standing up and leaning forwards to grip the chair in front of her, not trusting her legs to support her weight.
« I didn't mean to peak. » Adrien said, flushing slightly as he slid a paper to the side, where it would be easier for Marinette to see it. « It was just there and it caught my eyes. » The paper was filled with scribbles and sketches, all in shades of purple and black, and the girl instantly recognised what it was.
« Oh. » Marinette breathed, relief flooding over her in an instant. « That's the design for Alya's outfit. » She explained. « I'm making her dress for the ball. »
« You designed that? » Adrien asked, incredulous. The shock in his voice was so obvious that Marinette suddenly worried that her design was absolutely horrid. « It's amazing! » His eyes were blown wide, looking down at the drawing in complete admiration. « But why does the design look so familiar? »
« It's based on the design for Lady Wifi's outfit. » The girl admitted sheepishly. « Alya thought it'd be a fun idea. »
« She's showing up to a ball honouring Ladybug and Chat Noir dressed as an akuma villain? That's really clever. » The blonde chuckled. « I like it. »
« T-Thanks. » Marinette looked down, feeling the heat rush to her face.
« Have you started making it yet? »
« Not yet. » The girl shook her head, her pigtails beating her face softly with each movement. « I'm still missing the fabric for the skirt and the sleeves. » She punctuated her words by sliding a finger on the paper, circling a few areas. « I'm also undecided about the white stripes here. I don’t know if I should use a different fabric to make it stick out or use the same to let it blend smoothly with the rest of the corset. »
Adrien pondered for a second. « Well I would've made that part slightly larger, to really have it hug the neckline. And maybe have her mask lightly more butterfly shaped, with the outlined slightly brighter to remind of the akumas. » He skinned at the design. « This is really nice, but it's very form-fitting, didn't Alya want something more poofy? »
« Alya's not one for the poof. » Marinette smiled fondly down at the sketch, remembering how her best friend had insisted that the dress make her look beautiful but not too girly. Drop dead gorgeous but ready to kick some ass had been her exact words. « What about this part? » The girl leaned down closer to the desk, but suddenly realised how close her face was to Adrien's—who seemed to be too focuses on the dress design to notice anything— and she jumped back, feeling her heart leap into her throat.
« I-ah! Thanks for the advice! » She chirped, feeling tense again. « I just have to get started on the sewing now! » She gave a short laugh, awkward and out of place.
« Hey, » Adrien suddenly perked up. « If you're looking for some fabric I know a great store near le Sacré Cœur! My dad often buys some things from there and they have a great selection of quality fabrics. Maybe I could give you the address? »
« That would be great! » Marinette smiled in excitement. « Thanks! »
« Sure, no problem! » Adrien beamed. « Are you designing your own dress as well? »
« I am, » Marinette nodded. « But I haven't thought of a design yet... »
That was a lie. She had had the perfect idea for her dress a while ago, but she wasn’t emotionally prepared to have Adrien—or anyone, for that matter—see it yet. After all, it would've been difficult to explain why her ball gown was inspired by Ladybug's outfit without admitting that, since she was the famous masked heroine, this was just one big hilarious inside joke with herself.
« Well if this is anything to judge by, » Adrien gestured at the sketch for Alya's dress. « You two will have the best dresses in the entire ball. Be careful not to steal the spotlight from Ladybug, though. » With that, he winked playfully, and Marinette felt her entire brain shut down at once. It took her a solid minute to gather her thoughts again, and she forced out a laugh.
Ha ha, about that. « Don’t worry, I doubt anyone will be able to keep all eyes off Laybug! »
Had Marinette not been so focused on choosing the exact words that wouldn't be a dead giveaway of her identity, she would've noticed Adrien's lovestruck face as he sighed and answered;
« I guess you're right. It is a ball in her honour after all. »
Those words struck a nerve, and the brunette was unable to catch herself before she spouted; « Not just her! »
She froze at the sight of Adrien's surprised look, and barely managed to stutter out the rest of her sentence. « I-I mean she doesn't work alone in this, Chat Noir is always by her side and he's just as important as she is. » A sigh, and she left her gaze drift off until she was staring into the distance thoughtfully. « To be honest I don't think she could've ever made it this far if it wasn't for him... »
Adrien stayed silent for a moment, completely shell-shocked by Marinette's outburst—he honestly didn't think the girl had it in her to get riled up that way.
« Wow... » He breathed, stretching a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. « You really must be a big Chat Noir fan to defend him that way. »
Because what else could it be? He was used to always being in the shadow, he knew that's how things were supposed to be. Even when all eyes were on him, they weren't seeing him, not really. As Adrien it was expected to be the image of the perfect son for the perfect Gabriel Agreste. As Chat Noir, he had freedom, he could finally be himself—bad puns and all—but he knew he'd never compare to Ladybug.
His Lady was the most amazing, confident, generous person he knew, and he was bound to live in her shadow. He didn't mind, as long as she always trusted and respected him. He knew that she even loved him, in a way—not the way he hoped she would, not the way he did, but it was still undeniably there.
But that just meant he never excepted that anyone would stand up for him, that someone would actually notice him—either side of him. And he was all the more surprised when that person happened to be shy, stuttering little Marinette Dupain-Cheng.
« That's not it... » Marinette's face scrunched slightly in focus. « But Ladybug and Chat Noir are a duo. They function as a team, they complete each other. They're partners and I don't understand why Ladybug is always put on a pedestal while he gets swept under the rug. He saved her so many times... He even saved me a few times... » She smiled sadly. « He's just as amazing as she is, and I wish people would realise all that he has to offer... »
Immediately after she had finished talking, Marinette's eyes snapped up to Adrien and her face turned beet red.
« I-I know that you know that, though, probably! » She said, tripping over her words. « I didn't mean anything by that, I just thought—I mean, I— »
« Don't worry. » Adrien chuckled, his face slightly flushed as well—although not nearly as much as his classmate’s—and he couldn't help his stomach for somersaulting. He smiled fondly. « I'm glad that Chat Noir has someone out there to fend for him. »
Marinette was about to answer, when her trap door to her bedroom slammed open and Alya barged into the room.
« What's up children, I hope you behaved while the adults where gone! »
« We tried our best. » Adrien laughed.
« Guess what we brought! » Nino exclaimed, showing off the large plate of freshly baked pastries in his arms as he followed closely on Alya's heels.
« Let me guess... » Marinette shook her head in resignation. « My parents blackmailed you into taking those? »
« Yup! » Alya confirmed, loudly popping the last syllable. « Your mum said she'd never allow us in here again if we didn't bring them upstairs! »
« No objections here! » Adrien jumped on his feet, stepping over the papers on the floor and making a beeline for his delicious, delicious prize.
Alya chuckled and went to stand next to Marinette, who was watching the boys gulp down most of the plate without so much as a pause to catch their breath. Rocking herself on her heels, she nudged her friend's side softly.
« So? » She asked, her voice barely over a whisper so that only Marinette could hear. « How did your alone time with Lover Boy go? »
Marinette’s shoulders tensed for a second, but she let out a breath and smiled softly while gazing adoringly at Adrien.
« It went well. » She admitted. « It was a bit awkward at first but we talked about your dress and he even gave me some advice for the design. » she left out the part where they talked about Paris' super hero duo. Somehow, that seemed strangely private, like a moment that belong to just the two of them, something she wasn't willing to share yet.
« Oh did he like it? » Alya asked, dropping her need to tease her best friend about her crush in favour of fawning over her future dress. « Don't tell Nino about it, I want him to be hit in the face by how much of a hot piece of ass I'll be in that dress. »
« I won't breath a word. I never thanked you for your little trick, by the way... » Marinette elbowed her friend softly, chuckling. « Traitor. »
« Anytime. » Alya beamed. « You know you love me. »
The brunette sighed dramatically. « It's a burden I carry with me every day... » Alya bumped her hip and the girls laughed.
« So should we wrap this up? » Nino asked, having apparently lost interest in the food now that the plate was mostly empty.
« Alright. » Alya took her spot on the chaise again. « I think everything's pretty much set, we just need to makes lists of what to buy. »
« I can buy all the technical stuff. » Nino suggested. « I know a thing or two about electric work and all that shizz, so I don't mind. » He shrugged.
« Fine by me. » Alya scribbled down on a notepad. « Marinette are you okay with buying all the crafts and fabric? » She waited for her friend to nod in agreement and kept going. « I'll go with you and Adrien can go with Ni— »
« Ah, actually! » Adrien cut her off, looking a bit hesitant but smiling brightly at Marinette as he asked; « Can I go with Marinette instead? I know a bit more about fabric than I do about electric cables, and I promised to show her a shop, that way we can kill two birds with one stone. » He looked sheepishly at Nino, only now realising he was bailing on his friend. « If you and Alya don't mind teaming up? »
Nino was about to answer, but Alya perked up before he had the change to say a word.
« He doesn't mind! » She said loudly. « You and Marinette can go buy the fabric. Knock yourselves out, kids! »
Alya made a point to send a very obvious wink to Marinette, but the poor girl was already dead to the world, jaw hanging low as she let the situation sink in.
Adrien wanted to hang out with her. Alone. It was practically a date.
That sure wasn't the outcome she had expected for today.
Summary: The Collège Françoise Dupont decides to throw a masked ball in celebration of Ladybug and Chat Noir saving the school and its students countless times. Marinette knew this would be a special event, but the surprises the preparation and actual ball brought were far beyond her wildest dreams. Especially when her long time crush and a certain alley cat get thrown into the mix…
Pairing: Marichat & Adrinette
Chapter 2: Choosing teams
Read on AO3: here
Marinette Dupain-Cheng was late again.
As the black-haired girl stumbled out of the bakery and into the street, she mentally cursed herself for once again sleeping through her alarm clock. The wind and rain that greeted her outside caught her off guard, and she almost tripped into a puddle while attempting to cover her face. With a squeal, she hopped on one foot, trying to assess the damage made to the other shoe; The tip was damped, and the dirty water would definitely leave a stain on the pale pink fabric. Marinette bit her tongue hard, holding back a frustrated cry. She’d barely been awake for twenty minutes and already thing were getting out of hands.
She shook her head, knowing she had no time to waste on self-pity, seeing as her first class had already started—she checked her phone, and almost shrieked—twenty minutes ago. Instead, she ran, ignoring the cries of Tikki shaken around in her purse—she’d apologize with a fresh batch of cookies after school.
She’d never be thankful enough for her house to be located right across the street from her collège, as it took her exactly four minutes to barge into her classroom, attracting the gaze of all the students already seated.
Marinette felt heat rush to her face, and her head snapped down to stare at the ground while she rushed to her seat, muttering mumbled apologies for her tardiness. Had she paid the slightest big of attention to her surroundings, she would’ve noticed Chloé pushing her backpack between the table rows with a swift kick, sending it right onto Marinette’s path. The girl’s feet caught in the strap, and down she went.
Before she could register what was happening and brace for the impact, Marinette was abruptly stopped in her fall by two hands clasped against her shoulders. The black-haired girl blinked fast, muscles tense as the reality of her situation slowly sinked in.
Adrien was leaning across his desk, eyes shot wide in panic with his hands clutching Marinette’s shoulders. Instantly, the girl bounced back on her feel, as if that simple contact had burnt her to the core. Adrien retreated in his seat, seemingly relieved to see his classmate standing on her own two feet and not in immediate danger anymore.
« Sorry about that. » He said, hand shooting up to rub the nape of his neck, suddenly feeling bashful. « You looked like you were about to fall and I didn’t want you to hurt yourself. Are you okay? »
Words. Marinette you need words. She thought, her eyes wide in terror. Any words, anything at all. Come on Marinette, you’ve been staring silently for a solid minute and there is absolutely nothing you could possibly say at this point to make things worse for yourself.
« Yank » Okay never mind. Creepy silence was better.
Adrien raised an eyebrow, visibly at loss from Marinette’s choice of words. The girl felt her face being set aflame, and she rushed to her seat, eager to hide forever and—if Tikki’s luck would just kick in with the right timing, for once—possibly have the floor open up and swallow her into the pits of hell.
If Alya giving her two very obvious thumbs up from her spot next to her did nothing to lessen her embarrassment, at least Marinette was granted the satisfaction of seeing Chloé looking absolutely appalled to have seen her plan backfire as she sunk into her seat.
« Yank? » Alya whispered, immediately leaning towards her friend as she took her seat.
Marinette groaned. « I don’t know what happened! » She whined. « I tried saying ‘Yes thanks’ and it just came out as—as— »
« As ‘yank’. » Alya filled in. In response, Marinette dropped her head on her desk, letting out a long cry as her friend gently patted her head.
« Well, now that Marinette is settled, I can finish explaining everything. » Mrs. Bustier chipped in from her spot in front of the blackboard. « As I was saying, the ball orchestrated by the school in honor of Paris’ super hero duo is only a short month away now, and I suggest we all start planning ahead to make the event as pleasant as possible. » She smiled warmly, ignoring the few protests that emerged from the back of the class, and instead cast her glance towards the paper in her hands. « I’ve divided everyone by groups and each group will be working on a specific task for the preparation. Individual tasks will also be distributed and the class will be meeting up weekly to— »
Marinette stopped paying attention to what was being said and instead her attention was drawn towards Alya by a sharp nudge in the arm.
« Girl, this is totally your chance to team up with Adrien! » Alya chirped. « You’ll have to work together for an entire month and meet outside of school, it’s great! »
« It’s not great! » Marinette freaked out. « I can’t even thank him properly, how do you think I’m supposed to work with him if all I can say to him is err—I—hey—Adrien—hi—hey—hi—Adrien—hi! » She shook her head. Before Alya could argue, Mrs. Bustier started announcing the groups.
« —lix, Rose and Juleka, you’ll be in charge of cleaning. Then for the fourth group, Nino, Adrien and— » Marinette’s entire world stopped turning, time dragging slowly as the anticipation took over her. Her breath hitched, and she prayed to every god known to man as the last name was decided and her fate was up in the air… « —Alya, you three will be in charge of decoration. » …Only to come crashing down a second later.
Well, that had been her chance, Marinette thought. There went her opportunity to have a romantic face-to-face with Adrien, the two of them working together until dawn and sleepily joking together, until she accidentally fell asleep on his shoulder and Adrien put her to bed, finally realizing his undying love for her and they’d have a gorgeous wedding and she’d make her own dress and they’d have three wonderful kids and adopt a whole bunch of cute little hamsters and—
« Madame! » Marinette watched, mortified, as Alya’s hand shot in the air. « Can Marinette work with us? She already has a lot of material and she’s used to this since she made the banners for every school event this year! »
She was going to kill her. Marinette was actually, legitimately going to murder Alya.
Mrs. Bustier pondered over the idea for a minute. Finally, she nodded. « I guess that the ball room is pretty huge and you’ll need as much help as possible. Marinette, I know you’re helping your parents with the catering, but if you don’t mind doing both you can help out the decoration team. » She waited for the girl to give any sign of agreement, and moved on to the other tasks.
« You’re welcome. » Alya whispered, the smile so audible in her tone that Marinette didn’t even have to look at her to know she was wearing that scheming grin of hers. If she hadn’t been absolutely certain that her friend could easily overpower her, right this instant Marinette would’ve actually considered resorting to violence.
The rest of the class dragged on forever. Marinette still felt anxious, and had it been possible she would’ve sworn that time moved backwards, as it seemed that every time she glanced at the clock on the wall it was always a couple of minutes earlier than before.
Finally, after what seemed like ages, the bell rang and Mrs. Bustier dismissed the class for lunch. Marinette quickly gathered her things, eager to go outside and put the events from this morning behind her, and abandoned her seat with Alya close on her heels.
« Marinette, Alya, wait up! »
The girl froze, stopping dead on her tracks and causing her best friend to crash into her back. She closed her eyes shut, hands gripping hard on her purse until her knuckles turned white. She silently hoped that she hadn’t actually heard the voice, or that when she turned around virtually anyone else would be standing there. Anyone. Even Chloé. As much as she hated the girl, at least Marinette knew how to deal with her.
However, what she couldn’t deal with was…
« Hey Adrien. » Alya answered casually, although a trained eye would’ve noticed her forcefully spinning Marinette around until she faced the two classmates coming to greet them. « Nino. What’s up? »
The blonde boy was standing a few feet away, smiling gently and looking so gorgeous that Marinette had to make a conscious effort to not let her jaw drop. Who looked good under neon lights, seriously? No one, that’s who. No one except for Adrien freaking Agreste, and Marinette had half a mind to call him out for witchcraft.
« We were wandering if you guys wanted to meet up after class today to start planning the decorations for the ball. » Adrien suggested, looking expectantly at the two girls.
« We could ask around the school today what everyone would prefer for the theme ofthe ball. » Nino added. « And meet up after school somewhere to make a final decision and review what we’ll need to buy and make for the decorations. »
Alya nodded. « I usually hang out and do homework at Marinette’s place after class. » She said, and turned to Marinette. « Mari, do you think your parents would let us all stay in your room so we can start working on that tonight? »
Marinette was still dead to the world, her soul transcending this plane of existence to ascend into the heavens above by the sheer fact that Adrien was there. Standing in front of her, talking to her. He was so, so—Ouch! Alya’s sharp elbows stabbed her ribs, forcefully snapping her out of her thoughts.
« Yes! » She peeped, making a mental note to tell her friend not to do that anymore. « I can ask them during lunch but it shouldn’t be a problem. My dad will probably make snacks, too. »
« Great! » Adrien chirped, eyes glittering in anticipation. He had been to the Dupain-Chang’s bakery once, but had been denied those delicious looking baked goods. Maybe today was his chance at revenge. « We’ll see you after class then! »
Marinette nodded—a little too enthusiastically, maybe—and Adrien shot her a friendly smile. She was a goner after that.
« Oh! Marinette? » The blonde asked before the girl could make her escape.
Marinette felt her heart leap into her throat, and she barely managed to squeak out a high pitched « Yes? »
« Are you okay? » The blonde asked. « From this morning, I mean. You went down pretty hard and I wanted to make sure you hadn’t hurt yourself… » He looked sheepish, rubbing his neck trying to hide his embarrassment, as if he’d realized mid-sentence how silly his question was.
Marinette was lovestruck, but she somehow gathered her thoughts enough to reply; « You’re fine. N-No! I mean I’m fine, not you’re fine. You’re not fine—Ah! Of course you’re fine, you’re more than fine, but I meant—I—Ah— » She face-palmed, shoulders slumping. « I’m okay, thanks. »
Adrien chuckled, amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. « Great. » He smiled, patting the girl’s shoulder as he walked past her to join Nino, waiting in the hallway. « I’ll see you later then. »
Marinette nodded hard, not trusting herself enough to reply anything. Her face was incandescent and her fingers absentmindedly stroked the spot on her shoulder Adrien had just touched, looking absolutely dazed as she stared at the place the boy had just left.
Once again, it was Alya’s job to snap her out of her fantasy world.
« Earth to Mari. » She said, waving a hand in front of her friend’s gaze. Marinette only let out a lovelorn sigh and Alya rolled her eyes. Grabbing Marinette’s arm, the red haired girl dragged her out of the classroom, a small knowing grin on her lips. « Come on girl, let’s get your tower cleaned up before Prince Charming shows up. »
Yes it took 6 months but here I am with the next chapter!
Summary: Rock Star/Bodyguard AU. Jack is the lead singer and youngest member of the rising band, The Guardians. After a year-long tour, his manager, North, decides to force him back to college to tone down his diva attitude. But to ensure his safety, he’ll be stuck with a bodyguard, a surprisingly young brunet known as Hiccup.
Chapter 8: Morning After Coffee
Read on FF.net: here
Read on AO3: here
Throbbing. That was all Hiccup could think of when he rolled off—quite literally—of the couch the next morning. Throbbing, painful pangs that echoed under his skull, in rhythm with the nagging alarm of his phone.
He sat up—butt stinging from the freezing floor and back propped up against the couch—hiding his face in his hands. His tongue was coated and there was a bitter taste in the back of his throat as he fought back the urge to hurl. His stomach was aching, his skin felt sticky from the sweat on his back, and he just couldn’t get rid of that damn taste.
Standing up, he wobbled his way into the bathroom, kicking opened cans and empty bottles on his way there, mumbling angrily at them. The sun was already up, glaring light seeping into the room through the opened curtains, forcing the brunet to step blindly through the hall, eyes shut tight.
His memories from the night before were fuzzy—he vaguely remembered a game involving a lot of drinking, and a late-night commercial about a dancing man in a cat suit. But despite his state of semi-consciousness, the freckled teen deduced that whatever had happened in the evening had something to do with why Jack was sprawled out on his bed, drool pooling on the sheets under him. He decided to ignore that, for now, and focus on taking a shower—and half a bottle of aspirin.
As the freezing water of the shower hit his face with an unwelcomed force, Hiccup could think of nothing other than the throbbing of his head. Aside, maybe, for how he was going to murder Jack for suggesting this stupid game.
« Why did I even think it would be a good idea to agree to this? It’s Jack, of course everything he’d suggest would end in a mess like that! Why on earth did I agree to this? »
Astrid watched quietly from the other side of the cafeteria table as Hiccup held his head in his hands, elbows propped on either side of his meal—the greasiest french fries with more ketchup than was considered healthy. The brunet had been loudly complaining about his night ever since he ran into Astrid before classes stared.
From what the blonde understood, Hiccup and Jack had taken part in some sort of drinking game the evening before, and now the freckled teen was sporting a massive hangover.
« Why did you agree, though? » Astrid asked, unable to refrain her curiosity.
Because really, this was an unusual sight. Hiccup had never been one to give into peer pressure, and she just couldn’t picture a way to convince him to participate in such a stupid game on a school day.
Instead of an explanation, Hiccup drew an audible groan, and flopped his head on the table, knocking it on the wooden surface a couple of times as he wallowed in self-loathing.
« You really can’t hold your liquor, can you? » A voice came from behind them as Jack joined their table, carrying a tray with the largest hamburger Astrid had ever seen.
If Hiccup looked on the verge of death, Jack however seemed unusually perky—which felt extremely odd and uncomfortable. The white-haired teen had been grinning from ear to ear all morning, and given any other situation Astrid would’ve sworn the world was ending.
« Can too. » Hiccup grumbled, voice muffled as he didn’t bother looking up.
Jack clicked his tongue. « Keep telling yourself that, kiddo. »
The singer was too busy relishing in his smugness to notice the brunet lift his head and stick his tongue out before regaining his previous position. A chuckle escaped Astrid’s lips, and she tried to cover it up with a cough. Having known the freckled boy since childhood, she of course knew about that childish side of Hiccup, but it was still surprising to see him opening up to someone else so quickly.
Fishing her phone out of her skirt pocket, she promptly sent a message to Hiccup, fingers tapping the screen with a speed and discretion that only came with years of texting during classes in High School. She didn’t need to glance at the screen more than once or twice before she hit sent.
It took barely a minute before she saw Hiccup jump at the vibration of his own phone, and pulled it out of his pocket, reading the text carefully.
[SENT] (12:47) Look at you two being all chummy! Glad to see you’ve made a new friend. Maybe don’t get hammered next time you want to be social, though.
Astrid saw Hiccup frown, glancing up in annoyance, before typing an answer. A second after he had put his phone down on the table, Astrid’s phone vibrated in her lap.
[RECEIVED] (12:49) We’re not friends, Astrid. In case you’ve forgotten, he’s a /client/. And don’t speak like that, you sound like my mum.
[SENT] (12:50) Well someone has to. And don’t sass me young man. You’d never agree to anything of the sort with just any other client. Despite what you might want to believe, you and Jack actually get along pretty well.
Hiccup was openly glaring at the blonde when Jack leaned closer to him, trying to get a peek at the screen.
« What’s going on? » The white-haired singer asked. « You look like you’re about to murder your phone. » He barely caught a glimpse before Hiccup shoved him away. « Who’s that? »
« Actually » Hiccup lifted the phone up to his eyes, facing Jack so that the taller teen wouldn’t see the screen. The brunet narrowed his eyes in mock concentration. « It’s for you! » The boy gave an exaggerated gasp. He pressed a finger on the phone, sliding it along the screen as if following the imaginary lines he was reading. « It says that if you don’t stop spying on me immediately, I’m going to smack your head so hard it’ll go straight through the table. » He deadpanned.
Astrid choked back a laugh as Jack scooted away from his bodyguard, brows furrowed in a weary expression.
« Well someone’s all sunshines and rainbows today… » Jack muttered.
« And whose fault is that, huh? »
The blonde chuckled softly, slipping her phone back in her pocket, as it seemed that Hiccup was in no mood for a conversation. A small smile hovered at her lips as she leaned back in her chair and studied Jack instead. It was amusing how pouty the singer got when Hiccup wasn’t paying enough attention to him, although he probably hadn’t realized it himself. It wasn’t glaring obvious, but Astrid could see clearly enough that the teen has recently started acting like a dejected puppy whose master was too busy to toss him a bone.
Lately, things had gotten interesting between the two boys. Astrid knew that something had changed between them. It wasn’t anything big, but it was big enough to keep them off each other’s throats, and they didn’t seem inclined to rip the other’s eyes out quite as much—still, but relatively less.
The blonde was pulled out of her thoughts by Hiccup’s groans as he buried his face in his arms, crossed on the lunch table.
« Okay, seriously. » Astrid shook her head. « I’ve seen the parties your dad throws, Hiccup, and it takes a whole lot of liquor do get you drunk. How much did you drink last night to be hungover like that? »
A mumbled voice came from between the brunet’s arms « A whole fucking lot. »
Astrid’s lips pressed in a thin line, frowning slightly. But a glance at her watch kept her from pushing the issue. She stood up, gabbing her bag on the floor and threw it over her shoulder, her blonde braid flipping around her face with the motion.
« I have a class now, but I’ll meet you after Econ. » She said, pressing a hand to the brunet’s shoulder, who simply groaned in understanding. « Try to eat something, or you’ll never get over your hangover. » Astrid added, her voice firmer.
Another few mumbled words from Hiccup, and the blonde left Jack alone with his bodyguard, the heels of her brown boots clicking on the tiled floor as she left and resonating through the—now mostly empty—cafeteria.
The two boys stayed silent for a while, and Jack was the first to break the silence.
« Dude, you really look like shit… »
« Thanks. » Hiccup hissed, raising his head to glare at the white haired male. He reached for his glass and swallowed a couple of painkillers from an aspirine bottle all in once.
« Hey don’t blame me. » Jack frowned slightly. « You agreed to this. I wasn’t exactly holding a gun to your head, you know. » When the brunet’s glare softened, the singer added. « Besides, I know you’re just pissed because you lost the bet. »
« I beg your pardon? » Hiccup straightened his back, eyeing Jack carefully. « I don’t recall losing anything. And there was no bet to begin with. »
« I remember things differently. » Jack insisted. « Clearly I can hold my liquor better, which means I win. »
« Hell no. » The other boy objected. « From what I remember you gave up and fell asleep first. So if there had been a bet—which there wasn’t—then I’d have won. »
Jack raised an eyebrow defiantly. He grabbed his plate and shoved the greasy hamburger right under Hiccup’s nose. The smell of meat hit the brunet, and he had to jump back, gagging audibly.
« You were saying? »
« Fine, whatever. » Hiccup huffed. « I’ll get you a cup of coffee after classes. Now get that thing away from me, I’m gonna throw up. »
Jack beamed. Turning back to his plate, he did nothing short to attacking his meal, and Hiccup had to fight the urge to hurl.
Hiccup’s headache was no closer to vanishing as he and Jack strode in the campus halls to their next class. The air inside the building was stuffy, and the brunet wanted nothing more but to skip the rest of his lessons and head straight home. But, as Jack had been nagging him to do just that all morning, Hiccup had decided that he’d rather projectile vomit in front of hundred of students rather than give in to the singer’s whims.
The halls were far from crowded at that time of day, since most students had chosen to keep their afternoons free, or skipped the period right after lunch in favor of a quick nap—and Gods, a nap sounded really appealing right now. There were only a few students other than Jack and him, so when someone rammed in Hiccup’s side and sent him crashing in the nearest wall, the brunet knew straight away it wasn’t by accident.
« Watch where you’re going, Fuckup. »
His attacker was a short man with more muscles than brains. His beefy arms were swinging by his sides as he guffawed loudly, taking pride in what he had just done. His head seemed disproportionately small compared to the rest of his body, and stuck out like a pinhead on top of the boy’s large neck. And if the bully’s physique wasn’t a desperate attempt to look unquestionably manly, his poor excuse for a beard certainly was.
Hiccup rolled his eyes, unresponsive, and rubbed his shoulder where it had hit the wall. On the other hand, Jack was visibly fuming.
« Hey! » He called angrily, but Hiccup caught his shoulder to keep him from advancing.
« Don’t. » He said firmly. When Jack shot him a confused look, the brunet sighed sadly, rubbing his temples as he explained; « That’s Snotlout, he’s my cousin. »
The white-haired man’s eyes shot wide open, and he had to do a double take, trying to find any resemblance between the two boys, but he found none. Snotlout was still standing a few feet away, obviously waiting for any kind of reaction from the two boys. Jack turned back to Hiccup, frowning.
« I don’t care if Snotface’s your cousin, what’s his problem? » He hissed.
Hiccup rolled his eyes. « Just ignore it, Jack. »
« Yeah just ignore it, Jack! » The burly teen mimicked, using an exaggeratedly nasal voice.
« Dude, back the fuck off. » The singer threatened, stance defensive as he faced the bully.
Snotlout had a mocking laugh. « What now, Snow-White, you protecting you’ girlfriend? »
« You know what? » Jack asked, looking like he was actually mulling the question over. « I would, but I’m usually too busy pleasuring yours. »
The other boy looked startled, having clearly not expected any answer. His smile vanished and he glared angrily, baring teeth like an animal.
« Laugh it up, new boy. I’m sure you’ve got nothin’ in your pants. »
« Funny, that’s not what your mum said last night. »
Snotlout had walked back to the two teens, and was now standing only a few inches from Jack. His chest was puffed in an attempt to look impressive despite Jack being a good foot taller than him. But, although much shorter, the bully looked more than willing to jump head-first in a fight. And from experience Hiccup knew that he was.
« Listen kid. » Snotlout threatened. « If you don’t shut up right now I’m gonna punch your face in. »
« Yeah? » Jack scoffed. « And how’re you gonna do that? With a step-ladder? »
Hiccup barely had the time to intervene before Snotloud landed a punch right in Jack’s face. He shoved the burly teen away, and had to keep a firm grip on the white-haired singer as well.
« Give it up Snotlout, I’m not in the mood. »
After a glare and a handful of threats on his cousin’s side, Hiccup was finally able to drag Jack away from Snotlout. The white-haired teen huffed in anger, but cooperated and turned away from the fight, following Hiccup down the hall. They were barely a few feet away when Jack snickered, just loudly enough to be heard;
« Talk about over-compensating through violence. »
Had this been any other situation, Hiccup would’ve probably given a good chuckle at that. But before he could react, Jack was tackled to the ground and the sound of flesh hitting flesh resonated through the hall. Snotlout was straddling Jack, and although the white-haired man was putting quite a fight, the burly teen managed to land a punch straight to the singer’s jaw before Hiccup managed to separate them. The brunet grabbed the bully by the collar of his shirt, peeling him off Jack and sending him tumbling backwards. Snotlout bared his teeth at his cousin, stepping forwards to jump back into the fight, shoving Hiccup to the side with his arm. He was suddenly stopped when the lanky teen took hold of his wrist and twisted it back, pulling Snotlout away and ramming his face in the nearest wall. The beefy boy groaned in pain, and his eyes were wide in surprise as he tried to free himself, in vain.
Hiccup had never shown any signs of physical strength until then. To others, he was just a bookwormish and frail teen still waiting to hit his growth spurt. Astrid knew of his real abilities, of couse, since they sometimes trained together, but it was a fact he had hoped to keep under wraps.
From the incredulous stares and deafening silent of the few students that had stopped dead in their tracks on their way to class to watch, it was fairly certain that his cover had been blown.
Hiccup groaned in frustration. Turning his attention back to his cousin, still squirming against the wall, he pushed the bully’s arm harder in his back, causing him to yelp loudly. Hiccup leaned closer to the other’s face, so that his voice was barely over a whisper when he said;
« Stay away from him. »
The threat was clear, and the uncharacteristically frightening tone Hiccup had used sent Snotlout running the second he had been freed from the brunet’s grasp.
With the bully out of sight, the crowd that had formed broke into hushed conversations, eyes digging into Hiccup’s back. He turned to Jack, who was only just picking himself up from the floor, wiping the thin trail of blood that stained his chin with the back of his hand. His gaze was still fixated on the corner where Snotlout had disappeared.
Hiccup held out a hand to help the white-haired boy up, which Jack accepted. Once on his feet, the singer opened his mouth to thank his bodyguard, but instead he found himself being dragged out of sight from the other students. Hiccup was marching fast, Jack struggling to keep in step behind him, and from his stiff shoulders and iron grasp on his wrist, the taller male thought better than to say anything. He waited until Hiccup pulled him in an empty staircase, and massaging his bruised wrist, he waited for the brunet to collect himself enough to speak.
When Hiccup turned around, however, it wasn’t relief or gratitude that arbored his face—as Jack had expected—but unrestrained anger. And the brunet was visibly fuming when he threw his hands in the air and yelled;
« What on earth were you thinking? »
Jack was speechless. Of all the things he had expected from Hiccup, this was definitely not the way he had thought to be rewarded. The white-haired teen frowned, feeling the anger starting to pulse in his veins.
« What? » He snarled.
« How could you be so reckless? » Hiccup asked again, hands tugging at the roots of his auburn hair. « You could’ve gotten seriously hurt, and then what? Show up to you manager the next day all bruised and bleeding and having me fired? That was so stupid of you! »
« Is that how you thank me for saving your ass? »
Hiccup had a humorless laugh. « Funny, I think we have a very different recollection of whose ass got saved by whom. »
« What I do recall » Jack snapped, « Is you letting that idiot walk all over you like a carpet. So what? You’re all big talk around others but when it actually comes down to it you’ll let anyone push you around? That’s just pathetic. »
« Please. » The brunet rolled his eyes. « Snotlout is hardly worth the time of day to me. Let me deal with the likes of him however I want. » Hiccup frowned, his lips pursed and voice curt as he added; « This is my job on the line here, Jack. You can’t just go make a mess of everything just because you want to. »
There was a flash of pain in the singer’s eyes, and he took a step back, looking as though the wind had just been knocked out of him. But as quickly as it had appeared, any trace of hurt on the boy’s face vanished and was replaced by anger. Jack’s eyes hardened again, and his voice cut the silence of the staircase like a knife.
« I was trying to help. » He snapped. « Why are you so angry about this? »
« Because I’m not that helpless, Jack! » Hiccup screamed, his hands flying to grab a fistful of his hair. « If anything, it’s my job to protect you. » He glared accusingly at Jack. « But if you’re not going to take your own safety seriously, then maybe it’s best if we just ended things here. »
The silence that followed was agonizingly loud, as the last words spoken hung in the air. The two boys slowly registered their meaning, chest heaving from their screaming match. Before any of them could react, Hiccup’s name was called from the hall, and soon Astrid’s figure appeared in the staircase. Her pale blue eyes were wide in concern, shooting from one boy to the other in an attempt to grasp the situation.
« What on earth is going on? » She asked the brunet. « I could hear you two screaming from the other side of the building! »
Hiccup answered with a bitter laugh. « Ask Jack. »
And that was all it took for the two teens to go off again. Astrid blinked in confusion as the two males shouted themselves hoarse, with her stuck in the middle of their tantrum. They were gesticulating widely, sometimes addressing less than appropriate gestures to the other. When her eardrums started ringing from all the noise, Astrid huffed and decided that enough was enough.
« Ladies, ladies, please! You’re both pretty! » She called out loudly, shoving her hands in each boy’s face to catch their attention and keep them at arms-length. She then turned to Hiccup, and adressed him a stern look. « Hiccup, sidebar. »
« Side-what now? » The brunet asked, still glaring at Jack and only half paying attention to his best friend. « What’s that supposed to mean? »
« It means, » Astrid snatched Hiccup by the collar and dragged him a few feet away from the staircase. « Get your scrawny ass over here before I knock you unconscious. »
They stopped a little further down the hall. There wasn’t a soul left outside of their classrooms at that time, and from their position Hiccup could still spot Jack kicking the landing of the stairs, but they were safe out of ear-shot from the white-haired boy.
Astrid crossed her arms on her chest. Her short blue skirt swayed slightly on her hips as she rested her weight on one foot, and she tapped the floor impatiently with the other.
« Hiccup, » She said admonishingly, eyes closes as the pinched her nose bridge with one hand. « You know I’d take a bullet for you… »
« No you wouldn’t. » Hiccup cut her off. « You’d probably axe the guy square in the face before he could even have the time to pull out the gun. »
« Hiccup I love you but I will murder you if you keep interrupting me »
« Wouldn’t that be conter-productive?—Ouch!! » The brunet yelped loudly when Astrid punched him in the shoulder. Hard.
« I’m serious. » She warmed him. « Listen… I love you like a madman, but if things keep up that way I’ll make it my personal duty to beat some sense into you. »
« Why? » Hiccup was confused, but did not doubt that she would put her threat into execution one bit. Professionally trained or not, if there was someone capable of kicking his ass, it was probably Astrid.
« You and Jack! » The blonde screamed in frustration. « Gods! You guys are constantly at each other’s throats when it’s glaring obvious to everyone involved that you just want to hump each other’s brains out! »
The freckled teen felt his face flush heavily. He opened his mouth to protest but no words came out. He barely managed to stutter a few incoherent words before Astrid sighed and pressed a hand to his shoulder.
« I’m not trying to push you, Hiccup. » She added gently, eyeing her friend in worry. « You can figure out what’s going on between you two in due time, but you have to admit there is something there. Maybe not romance, but there’s something. You’ve never been affected by a client like that before, and you’ve had some pretty terrible cases that make Jack look like a choir boy in comparison. » She gave a weak smile. « Whatever it is that’s going on between you two, you have to talk it over with Jack before it blows in your face and you end up losing your job over it. »
Hiccup’s brows furrowed in thought. He had to admit that none of his previous clients had ever gotten such strong reactions out of him. It was clear that Jack was something different, yet the brunet still had a hard time figuring out wether or not it was a good thing.
He sighed in defeat, knowing very well that it was pointless to lie to Astrid. That girl had a sixth sense and would not hesitate to bully the truth out of him.
« I can’t help it, Astrid… » He said, voice lower and even now that he had calmed down. His eyes were fixated on the ground as he spoke. « You’ve seen how he is, we can barely stay in the same room for more than a few minutes before something sets one of us off. And Jack visibly hates me. »
« Please. » Astrid rolled her eyes. « It’s clear to anyone with eyes that Jack’s the kind of person to push people away out of fear of being rejected. He’s an insecure wreck. »
Hiccup felt his heart clench. His thoughts were brought back to that evening in Jack’s room where he had walked in on him singing. From what the white-haired boy had said, it was easy to guess that he had a heavy history that had made him the distant and diffident person he was now, the boy that was the polar opposite of the persona he playacted on stage.
For some reason, despite sharing virtually anything with his best friend, he had never mentioned the discussion he had had with Jack that night. He knew that secret would’ve been safe with Astrid if he had shared it with her, but he had decided against it.
« Besides, » The blonde girl squeezed the brunet’s shoulder to pull him out of his thoughts. « Jack didn’t just get into any fight. He did it to defend you. » She gave him a soft smile. « Not something someone you would do if they hated you, don’t you think? »
Hiccup’s stomach did a weird twist. His cheeks heated and his voice got stuck in his throat. Jack hadn’t fought Snotlout because he thought his bodyguard was helpless or weak. He’d done it because he cared. Because, at least to some extent, Hiccup mattered to him.
Astrid’s smile grew when Hiccup’s face lit up with realization, glad to see her numskulled best friend finally use his brains. She crouched down lightly, catching his gaze as he stared at the ground.
« Don’t worry. » She reassured him. « Just ease up on him a little—maybe turn down the sass a notch—and everything should be fine. »
Worry flashed in Hiccup’s eyes. « Astrid, I— »
« Hiccup… » She reprimanded, frowning slightly although it was light-hearted. « Do you really want me to take the matter in my own hands again? »
The brunet gulped loudly, shaking his head hard. The last time Astrid had intervened in his personal business was when he and a boy from his high school had had a mutual crush on each other but neither had been willing to act on it, vigorously refusing to admit to anything. Back then, the blonde girl had started making widely inappropriate comments whenever the two boys were around, all revolving around the idea that she and Hiccup were sexually involved. It had gone on for three embarrassing weeks before the teens had finally chosen to deal with their feelings.
Granted, they had dated for seven months after that, and although this time the situation was different, Hiccup really didn’t want to know what his devil of a best friend had in mind this time to patch things up between Jack and him.
« Don’t worry. » He said, looking back to the other side of the hall, where he could spot Jack sulking. Hiccup smiled weakly at Astrid. « I’ll make things right. »
The girl squeezed his shoulder again as Hiccup passed by her. « Go get ‘im, babe. »
Hiccup reached the stairway and stood in silence for a few minutes. Jack was sitting at the top of the stairs, frowning as he stared at his feet. If he noticed the brunet reach his side and sit next to him, he made no sign to show it. The boy looked miserable, like a child having been punished unfairly. Hiccup sighed and went to fish something in his back pocket.
Jack jumped slightly when a paper tissue appeared in front of his hands. He turned to Hiccup with wide eyes, but his bodyguard was looking away from him, avoiding eye contact and acting nonchalant yet his ears were slightly flushed.
« Here. » Hiccup said, shaking the tissue slightly so Jack would take it. « For your hands. »
The singer looked back down, examining his hands in confusion. Until then, he hadn’t noticed that his knuckles were slightly bloody. They were only slightly grazed, and most of the blood probably wasn’t his, but the accepted the tissue nonetheless.
« Thanks. » He muttered.
Hiccup offered a sheepish but warm smile, and the boy felt his hair prickling at the back of his neck. But before he could overthink that fact, the brunet frowned in worry, hand reaching up to tap the corner of his lips.
« You’ve got some here. » He said, and when Jack tried to mirror his movement, he shook his head slightly. « No, there—let me— » He help out a hand, brushing the side of the white-haired boy’s chin with his thumb, tongue poking out of his lips slightly as his brows furrowed in focus. The brunet suddenly seemed to realize what he was doing because he quickly retracted his hand, embarrassed as he met Jack’s gaze. « I—Sorry. »
Jack smiled softly and went back to wiping the spot Hiccup had just been touching. He stopped when he heard the freckled boy sigh next to him.
« I… I’m sorry I lost my temper earlier. » Hiccup shook his head slightly, watching his hands fiddling together as he spoke. « And I’m sorry about everything I said. »
« And I’m sorry you might get fired because I got hurt. » Jack replied, looking up at the roof several floors above them. « I might have been a little reckless. »
« Might. » The brunet repeated, smirking.
« Yeah, well… Sorry. »
Hiccup chuckled, and Jack turned his head to raise and eyebrow at him. The smaller teen shot him a crooked grin and nudged Jack’s sides with his elbow.
« Look at that. I think it’s the first time you’ve ever apologized to me. »
Jack laughed softly. « Don’t get used to it. »
Hiccup joined him with a good-natured laugh, and they stayed in peaceful silence for a few minutes before the brunet cleared his throat.
« Still… Thanks for standing up for me. »
His voice was grateful and his smile was so genuine that Jack stayed breathless for a couple of seconds before saying;
« Anytime. »
Hiccup nodded and stood up, offering a hand for Jack to do the same. Once he’d help pulling the white-haired teen on his feet, the brunet rolled his shoulders and gestured the bottom of the stairs.
« If I don’t get fired, I’ll really owe you that cup of coffee. » He joked, and Jack laughed. « Let’s get you home, and maybe try not to start any other fights on the way. »
Jack puffed his chest. « Can’t make any promises. »
Hiccup chuckled, and bumped his shoulders into Jack’s, sending him tumbling a couple of feet further. The two of them made their way out of the college campus, occasionally teasing and trying to send the other off course.
It was peaceful, and although they both knew that this wasn’t the end of their little personal war, at least for now it was a truce.
