Chapter Text
“I found you, my lady.”
Chills went down Marinette’s spine as she heard those words uttered behind her. Involuntarily, her back straightened, and she turned slowly around. There, standing much closer than she was comfortable with, was a blond male, approximately her age, of the same rough height and build as Chat Noir, closely resembling him in facial features as well. By appearances, he could very well be Chat Noir.
But something was very off.
“We had a bet, do you remember, my lady? You said if you found me as myself first, then I would owe you a kiss.” Then he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, eliciting an eep and a sharp exhale at the abrupt movement. Leaning closer, he lowered his voice. “And if I found you first, my prize is a little more…” Marinette cringed as he ran a finger up her arm and paused for a second, “...intimate.”
Part of her wondered just how much she had to drink. It was true that she was slightly buzzed- ok, maybe slightly drunk, but hey, it was a party- but she didn’t think she had enough to hallucinate a creep coming onto her in such a weird and overt way. Because there was no doubt in her mind that this was not her Chaton. Not only had they never made such a ridiculous pact, but he would never approach a civilian in that way, not even if he knew she was Ladybug.
Lost in her thoughts, Marinette didn’t realize until almost too late that the Chat Noir wannabe was leaning in to kiss her, and she lurched backward to escape his lips, startling him.
“You’re not Chat Noir.” It was the first thing that came to mind.
“What?” the male asked, looking around as though confused. “Of course I am, baby. It’s me. We found each other. Let’s go celebrate.” And then he tried to pull off Chat’s signature smirk, but it was all wrong. It was too wide and too straight, and whereas Chat’s was charismatic and playful, this person’s was distinctly predatory.
Then the imposter reached out for her arm, grasping it somewhat firmly in his hand, and Marinette fought the bile rising in her throat. She pulled her elbow away, but he held on, using the momentum of her resistance to bring her closer.
“Come on, my lady. I know where we can go to be alone.” The grin on his face made her absolutely sick, and she swallowed the urge to vomit on them both.
“You’re not Chat Noir,” she said again, unable to process the whole bizarre situation enough to come up with anything more relevant, like let go of me.
“I think the lady has spoken,” came another voice behind her, and the male attempting to hold her close looked up slightly, grin gone from his face as he slowly relaxed his hold on Marinette. That was all she needed to scramble away, straight into the arms of her unknown savior. Grateful as she was, she wasn’t about to take her eyes off this creep long until he was long lost from her sight, not even to see who had helped her escape.
“Relax, man,” the persistent man replied. “I didn’t know she was spoken for.”
“She speaks for herself, whether you seem to respect that or not. It takes a special kind of desperate asshole to pretend to be a superhero to pick up girls. So why don’t you turn around, tuck your tail between your legs, ‘cause I’m ninety percent sure that’s all you have there, and fuck off.”
Scowling, the man did as told, but not without a death glare thrown at both Marinette and her nameless knight. The intoxicated girl watched him slink away, still puzzled over what the hell had just happened, but definitely glad to be rid of the loathsome parasite.
“Are you ok?” Marinette was brought back to Earth, made new-aware of the person who had come to her rescue, and turned (somewhat clumsily) around to see who this person was.
He was tall.
He was blond.
He had green eyes.
Her brain did the math.
“... Chat Noir?” she asked.
But Chat didn’t have fully exposed cheeks, and this person’s were flushing crimson. That was weird.
“Uh, no, no- not actually Chat Noir,” the blond stammered.
Marinette narrowed her eyes, taking in his appearance (which was somewhat hazy because of the alcohol she drank), and reached up cautiously, ruffling his hair as he stood stock still.
“It was too neat,” she replied as though that was explanation enough. The man in front of her coughed, apparently choking on air.
“Uh, that’s not- Mari, it’s me. Do you know who I am?” He let go of her and stepped back slightly to give her a better view of himself, and she teetered unsteadily. In an instant, he was back at her side, arms holding her upright and in place. “Ok, princess, let’s find you somewhere to sit.”
Stumbling slightly, Marinette allowed the blond man to guide her to a nearby couch, giggling as he pressed her down onto the cushions.
“Kitty,” she sang, “come cuddle with me~” And with surprising strength for someone as petite as her, she yanked him down onto the couch with her.
The man yelped, landing rather ungraciously beside her on the sofa. Without much thought, Marinette laid her head against the blond’s shoulder, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair.
“Ma- Mari? What’re you doing?”
“Shh, Chat. I want to hear your purr.”
His gulp was very audible so close to her ear.
“Uh, Mari? Who do you think I am?”
Marinette nestled deeper into his side.
“Silly kitty. I know exactly who you are.”
There was a beat of silence as she continued to stroke his hair.
“And… how do you know that?”
The small noirette chuckled, shaking her head as her eyelids drooped.
“Why wouldn’t I know who you are, Chaton? It’s not like I have another partner to confuse you with.”
The man she was leaning against fell into a coughing fit, and she was jostled a bit before she sat up and waited for him to gain his composure. Scowling a bit at the disturbance, Marinette resumed her previous position, hand entwined in blond hair, ear resting against the planes of a very firm chest and waiting for the purr to stutter to life.
“Muh-” she heard, almost a squeak. “My lady?”
Giggling to herself, Marinette smiled contentedly.
“Of course, kitty. How do you think I knew that boy wasn’t you? He didn’t act like Chat Noir at all. He was too pushy. And he wasn’t charming at all. You’re charming. And cute. And you’re only pushy sometimes, but you stop when I ask you to.”
There was the distinct sputter of a purr under her ear, and Marinette pressed harder against his chest, but it was sporadic at best.
She whined.
“Come on, kitty. You can do better than that~”
“Ma-” The man cleared his throat, his voice coming out higher pitched than usual. “My lady, we should really talk about this another day when we’re somewhere less crowded. And when we’re both sober.”
Looking up at his face, the girl giggled again, then frowned slightly.
“Chaton, where’s your mask?” A look of reprimand took over her features. “Did you lose your miraculous again?”
The man closed his eyes, appearing to try to control his breathing, reopening them again after a few seconds.
“Jesus, Mari, what the hell am I going to do with you?”
She tilted her head, confused about his question.
“Kitty, why are you calling me Mari?” Then she looked shocked, mouth opening in surprise. “Chat! Did you find out my name?” He only gaped at her. “Oh well,” she shrugged, turning to lean against the back of the couch, arms crossed over her chest. “I guess that’s Marinette’s problem. Not mine. I’m Ladybug.” Then there was a hand over her mouth, and the confused girl crossed her eyes as she tried to look down at it before bringing them up to her partner’s face.
“You can’t just say that,” he whispered urgently.
But Marinette was already moving on to something else. As soon as the hand was removed from her mouth, she blurted.
“Chaton, you look so much like Adrien Agreste. I never noticed that before.”
In her intoxicated state, she didn’t notice the way the man in front of her was trying to contain a laugh.
“Is that so, princess?” he asked, fond smile taking over his features.
“Yea,” she responded thoughtfully. “You’re both really pretty.” And as though she just realized she had let out a secret, she quickly (and sloppily) pushed a finger over the blond’s lips. “But don’t tell him I said that! It’s a secret!”
He laughed softly, nodding his head in acquiescence.
“It’s ok, my lady. I won’t. Chat’s honor.”
There was a beat of silence as she nestled into the couch, closing her eyes in a newfound state of tiredness.
“So,” the man continued almost too nonchalantly, “you think this Agreste kid is pretty, huh?”
“Uhuh,” she confirmed sleepily, eyes still closed. “I’ve been in love with him for years. His pictures used to be all over my walls.” Rather ungraciously, the blond’s jaw fell open. “But don’t tell him I said that. I’d die of embarrassment.”
She felt an arm come to rest around her shoulders, a kiss press to her forehead before it was being cradled against the crook of a shoulder. Under her ear, she heard Chat’s purr begin to rumble.
Smiling in satisfaction, she leaned against her partner’s chest and fell asleep.
Beside her, Adrien watched the girl lying against him, kissing her softly on the top of the head as she drifted off to sleep.
And there was no one in the room, except two hidden kwamis, when he said:
“I love you, my lady. I’m so glad it’s you.”