Actions

Work Header

Dirt-y Little Secret

Summary:

A game of truth or dare escalates, and things get a little dirty (literally).

(In which Marinette and Chat Noir eat dirt and spill way more beans than they intended to.)

Notes:

Dedicated to Tali and Alyce for inspiring me and enabling me w their dirt-eating marichat content
read Tali's OG dirt fic Tastes Like Dirt!

they're a couple years older than canon btw

this was supposed to be a joke idk how it ended up being this long lol i hope this is coherent but if not whatever!! they're eatin dirt baybee!!!

UPDATE: the amazing trashcatontherooftop did some art of this fic!! link at the bottom :D

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

A cool night breeze swept over the balcony. Marinette leaned back in the deck chair, watching the shadows dance as the string of colored lanterns above her head swayed and bobbed.

There was a soft thump in front of her.

“Your royal snackery, your highness, as requested.” Chat Noir stooped into a low bow and held out a box with both gloved hands.

Marinette took it from him and opened the lid, revealing the neat rows of colorful macarons. “How much do I owe you?”

Purr-lease. Your parents love me. They gave it to me for free.”

“Really.”

“Yes, really. I offered to pay, but they were like, ‘Oh, we won’t hear of it! This is the least we could do to thank you for saving the city all the time and being the most heroic and brave and dashing and noble and handsome person in Paris. And so humble too!”

Marinette rolled her eyes, suppressing a smile. “Any chance I could dare you to heroically go back down there and get some milk?”

“No way. It’s your turn. Truth or dare?”

Marinette hummed as she selected a strawberry macaron. “Truth.”

“Aw, come on. You always pick truth.” Chat plopped down on the balcony floor and put his chin on her knee.

“Well, you always pick dare.”

“I can’t really tell you all my secrets, can I? Besides, someone’s gotta keep this game interesting. You’re being so boring.”

Marinette swallowed a mouthful of macaron. “You’re just pouting because I’ve found a way to hack the system.”

“Hack the system? As in, dare me bring you stuff in exchange for you offering cryptic technically-not-a-lie-but-definitely-not-the-full-truth answers to my questions?”

She grinned. “Exactly.”

“Coward. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Adventure would require me to get out of this chair, and I’m just too comfy for that. Now are you going to ask me a question or not?”

“Fine.” Chat plucked a passionfruit macaron out of the box and popped it into his mouth. “Who’s your favorite superhero?” He waggled his eyebrows under the mask.

“Multimouse.”

Chat laughed. “Cheater. You can’t pick yourself.”

“Fine. Queen Bee.”

“Okay, come on. I know you hate Chloé. You rant to me about her at least once a week.”

“Alright, alright. I just didn’t wanna tell you … because …” Marinette looked down.

“Because … ?”

He was grinning smugly. She fought back her own smirk.

“Because it’s Carapace. He’s my favorite.”

“Ha! I knew—wait.” Chat opened his mouth and shut it again. “Well, okay. I mean, he is pretty awesome. I really like Carapace.”

She tried to keep a straight face, but he looked so disappointed that she couldn’t keep it up. “I'm kidding, kitty. You're my favorite superhero.”

“Really?” His drooping ears perked back up.

“Hey, it’s truth or dare. I can’t lie.”

“You just lied twice,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but I’m telling the truth now. And now it’s your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Dare. But you have to make it a good one this time!”

“Okay. I dare you to, uh … run to the Eiffel Tower and back.”

“Weak.”

“Prank call Hawkmoth.”

“Getting there, but sadly I do not have his number.”

“Then I dare you to …” Her eyes fell on the potted bonsai tree behind him. “Eat dirt.”

Chat blinked. “Eat dirt? As in, like, ingest soil?”

“What’s the matter? Is that too daring for you?”

“No! It’s just the right amount of daring. In fact, it’s—it’s still too easy.” Chat got to his feet and turned to the tree.

Marinette picked up another macaron. “Bon appétit.”

“Right.” Chat dug his claws into the pot and scooped up a handful of soil. He stared down at it uncertainly.

“You aren’t gonna chicken out, are you?” she teased.

He looked back up, uncharacteristically grave.

“Marinette, I’m not a chicken. I’m Chat f***ing Noir.”

And then he stuffed the whole fistful of dirt into his mouth.

Marinette choked on her macaron. “Chat! Spit that out right now!”

He didn’t. Just kept chewing with a pained look on his face. Like he was … well, like he was eating dirt.

Marinette scrambled off the chair. “Stop it! I was kidding! I didn’t think you’d actually—”

He screwed his eyes shut and swallowed.

“I’m Chat f***ing Noir,” he rasped again. Then he promptly doubled over in a coughing fit.

“Chat, are you okay? You just—just …”

She was concerned for him, she really was, but it was just so ridiculous. She couldn’t help herself. She burst out laughing, shaking and cackling until tears leaked from her eyes. She was pretty sure he was laughing too (though it was hard to tell when he was still hacking up a lung). Soon both of them were bent over wheezing.

“Oh my gosh, Chat,” she said when she finally caught her breath. “I thought if anything you’d eat like a tiny pinch. I can’t believe you ate an entire freaking handful.”

“Eating a pinch wouldn’t be much of a dare.” He flashed her a brown-stained grin, which just made her dissolve into laughter again.

“Stop! You look like you just ate poop.”

“Tasted like it.” He fell into another coughing fit.

“Wait here,” she said, still chuckling. “I’ll get you some water.”

By the time she came back, Chat was leaning against the balcony railing, picking at his teeth with his claws.

“Here.” She pressed the bottle of water into his hand.

He popped the lid off and took a deep swig. “I believe it’s your turn now.”

“Are you serious? We’re not still playing after that, are we?”

“Oh, so you’re gonna make me eat dirt and then just back out?”

“I didn’t make you eat dirt. That was your choice.”

“Fine. It was my choice. But I think I deserve another couple rounds for that.”

“Whatever.” She leaned next to him on the railing. “Shoot.”

Chat took another gulp from the bottle. “Truth: you were impressed with how much dirt I just ate.”

“That’s not how this game works. You have to ask a question.”

“Okay. Were you impressed with how much dirt I just ate?”

She snorted. “If I was impressed with anything, it was your level of stupidity.”

“Answer the question.”

“Fine. Yes, I was impressed.”

“I knew it.” He grinned with his still-dirt-y teeth. “Your turn.”

“Ugh. I dare you to go down and rinse your mouth out in the bathroom. I can’t keep looking at your poopy teeth.”

“You didn’t even ask ‘truth or dare,’” he said.

“You don’t get the option this time. Go.” She pointed at the skylight.

“If you keep sending me away every time, I’m going to think you don’t actually enjoy my com-purr-ny.”

“I don’t,” she said. “Especially not when you make terrible puns.”

His lips slid into a pout. “But I’m your favorite superhero.”

There was a streak of dirt at the corner of his mouth. She almost reached out to wipe it away. Her fingers twitched.

“There’s a bottle of mouthwash in the cupboard,” she said. “Go.”

He sighed dramatically as he pulled open the skylight. “You’ll miss me while I’m gone.”

It was stupid that he was right.

She closed her eyes and leaned over the railing, listening to the hum of cars in the street below. The balcony used to be her place to be alone. But now, whenever she had it to herself, all she could think about was how strangely empty it felt without him. Truth was, it wasn’t just her balcony anymore. It was theirs.

Of course, they hung out in her room a lot too, but more often than not, his visits were just like this: the two of them, under the glow of the moon, voices mingling against the backdrop of nighttime traffic, stuffing themselves with pizza or pastries.

Or dirt, apparently.

She broke into another fit of giggles as Chat poked his head out through the skylight.

“I’m all minty fresh now,” he said. “In case you wanna, I don’t know, kiss me or something.”

Her head jerked toward him, a blush erupting across her cheeks. “What? I don’t—no!”

He shrugged and pulled himself up through the skylight. “Just offering.”

“Thanks,” she said drily. “You’re very generous.”

“I know. You’ll regret passing up the opportunity.”

She turned back to the street to hide another blush. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Chat laughed softly as he leaned against the railing beside her. “So, princess. Truth or dare?”

Her blush had faded enough that she thought it safe to lift her head. She narrowed her eyes, calculating Chat’s expression. He looked innocent enough, but she wouldn’t put it past him to dare her to eat dirt if she picked dare.

“Truth,” she said.

She expected him to complain, but instead he popped off the lid of the water bottle and took a sip.

“Alright. Tell me about your most embarrassing moment.”

She froze. So many.

So, so many.

“And make it a good one,” Chat added. “I mean, I did eat dirt. So this had better be worth it.”

Her mind flashed through every time she’d humiliated herself in front of Adrien. Just thinking about it made her cheeks go red again. How had she ever managed to face him again?

“One time I accidentally asked my crush to get me constipation medication,” she blurted.

Chat choked on his drink of water.

She rushed on before he could start to tease her. “I meant to give him this note I’d written! It was a … a love letter, actually. I’d been working up the courage to tell him how I felt for a long time. But then I mixed up the letter with this other piece of paper I had in my bag, which just so happened to be a prescription order for a, uh, an elderly neighbor of mine. And he just so happened to be suffering from … um, constipation.”

Chat stared. She expected him to be laughing at her, but somehow this shocked silence was even worse. Was it really so bad he couldn’t even laugh?

“Or no—wait! That wasn’t even the most embarrassing one,” she said with a groan. “The worst time was when he was trying to play a prank on me and it totally backfired. See, we were at a wax museum and he was pretending to be a statue only I didn’t realize it was actually him so I was role-playing with what I thought was a statue and I delivered this whole speech to him about how we were ‘molded in the plaster of destiny’ or something and then—oh gosh, I don’t even want to say it—then I tried to kiss him. While he was pretending to be a statue. Which, of course, made him freak out, and then I was crying and he was crying and I tried to play it off, but really, how can you play that off? Anyway, he ended up telling me that he was in love with someone else. And it was like the most humiliating and heartbreaking day of my life. Well, I mean, one of them. I have a tendency to create a lot of disastrous situations for myself. I—uh … Chat?”

He had frozen in place, his green eyes as wide as saucers.

This was not the reaction she was expecting. He should be laughing himself silly and making weird statue puns and talking about how that must have been worse than eating dirt.

Oh no. The dirt.

“Are you going to throw up?” she asked. “Please don’t tell me you’re about to vomit dirt all over my balcony.”

“No, no!” he said quickly, setting the water bottle on the table. “It’s just—so—the statue guy and the constipation guy are the same, right?”

She sighed. “Yep. And that’s not even a fraction of the times I’ve embarrassed myself in front of him.”

“And this only happened with him? No one else?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Of course. How could any of that happen twice?”

“Well, so …” He lowered his eyes. “You really liked this guy, huh?”

“Not just liked. I was totally, hopelessly, embarrassingly in love with him.” She drooped over the railing.

“Was?”

“Well, it’s been a long time. I never got to tell him how I felt. And he always just saw me as a friend anyway.”

“So you’re … not in love with him anymore?” He almost sounded disappointed.

She frowned. “You’ve gotten way too much information out of this round. It’s your turn now. Truth or dare?”

He paused. “Truth.”

“Really? Okay. Um, what’s your biggest regret? And you can’t say eating dirt.”

“I don’t regret that.” He twisted his ring around on his finger. “I guess my biggest regret is that … I’m slow.”

“Slow? The guy who bragged that he beat Ladybug in a race around the city?”

“No, no,” he said impatiently. “That’s not what I mean. I mean I’m slow to realize things—a-about myself. And about other people. Slow to, I don’t know, figure out my own head. Slow to see. Slow to act.”

She blinked. None of that sounded like the Chat Noir she knew. She’d always thought of him as impulsive. He leaped into battle, sometimes without even thinking. He was so confident about his feelings and never shied away from expressing them. (Not to mention, he’d barely even hesitated to eat a pile of dirt.)

“And now …” His hands curled into fists. “Now it might be too late.”

“Too late for what?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Um, truth.”

“Are you still in love with … that boy?”

She bit her lip. “We’re—we’re friends.”

“Just friends?” He caught her eye and held her gaze.

She wasn’t sure how to answer. Adrien had never been just a friend to her. He’d always been special. He always would be. But she had finally accepted the idea of not being with him—not like that, anyway.

Maybe it was because enough time had passed for her heartbreak to heal. Maybe it was because she’d finally learned given herself the space she needed to breathe.

And maybe it was because the hole in her heart had been filled by someone else—someone who also had blonde hair and green eyes and a soft smile (when it wasn’t caked in dirt, that is).

She swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. Just friends.”

“What about us?” he asked quietly. “Are we just friends?”

She looked down. “It’s not my turn anymore.”

“I pick truth,” he said. “Ask me.”

She took a breath. “Are we just friends?”

His eyes searched hers. “I can only answer that for myself,” he said finally. “But you haven’t been ‘just a friend’ to me in a long time, Marinette.”

Her heart thudded in her chest. “So what am I to you?”

He smiled. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

He leaned in a little closer. “Am I just a friend to you?”

She met his gaze. In this light, his pupils were almost completely round. He wasn’t smirking, or teasing, or taunting. He was just asking—sincerely, hopefully. And she thought she knew what he was hoping she’d say.

(She hoped she was right about him hoping.)

Her voice came out as a whisper. “You’re not just a friend to me. You’re a lot more than that. I—I like you, Chat. I really like you. I actually think I might … kind of … love you.”

His eyes widened, reflecting the light of the lanterns. Then his face cracked into a bright smile.

“Kiss me,” she breathed. “I dare you.”

He didn’t hesitate this time. His lips were on hers almost instantly. He brought his hands to her face, his gloves cool against her skin.

His lips were soft and warm. She leaned into him, angling her head and rising on her toes to better reach him. He sighed gently against her lips and she breathed it in, pulling him closer, feeling him deeper.

When they finally broke apart, they stared at each other for a moment, catching their breath in the cool night air. Then they both laughed softly.

“Can’t believe I kissed someone who just ate dirt,” she said.

To be fair, he’d been mostly minty fresh, just like he’d said. There was just the tiniest taste of dirt. And she’d been too busy kissing him to care. But still.

“I believe ‘made out with’ is the scientific term,” Chat said.

She shoved him, laughing. Her cheeks burned against the cool air, but it had less to do with his teasing than with the residual heat of his kisses, still tingling on her lips.

“I can’t believe I made out with someone who’s too much of a coward to eat dirt.” He shook his head in mock disappointment.

“Hey!” she protested. “You didn’t even dare me to.”

“You didn’t give me the chance.”

She leaned closer, raising her eyebrows in challenge. “Ask me, then.”

“Okay. Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Very well. I dare you to eat dirt.”

“Fine.” She dug her fingers into the soil of the rose bush planter hanging on the railing and brought up a small scoop. It wasn’t as big as the handful Chat ate, but it was definitely more than a pinch.

Chat scoffed. “Come on. I know you’re not actually going to do it.”

She looked him square in the eye. “Oh, I’m gonna do it. I’m Marinette f***ing Dupain-Cheng.”

She shoved the dirt into her mouth before she could talk herself out of it. It tasted exactly like she imagined it would, but somehow even worse. It was bitter and gritty and so horribly dry, even though she had watered the roses this morning. She fought back the instinct to gag or spit it out. She wasn’t going to let him have this one.

Besides, as stupid as it was, Chat looked so genuinely delighted that she didn’t want to. She forced her jaw to move up and down to grind the soil between her teeth. Finally, she managed to swallow it.

“Delicious,” she said hoarsely. She buried her mouth in her arm and coughed, gesturing at the table with her other hand. “Water. Water.”

Chat didn’t move. He stared at her with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open. Then his breath squeezed out in a sigh. “I love you.”

She half laughed, half coughed. “That’s what made you say it back? Because I ate freaking dirt?”

“I’ve been in love with you for years.” He said it matter of factly, like he was commenting on the weather. “Maybe even since the beginning. I don’t know—I told you I’m slow.” He grinned. “But the fact that you ate dirt just makes me love you more.”

Despite how stupid everything was, despite the fact that her throat was burning and caked with mud, she couldn’t help but smile as something warm and sure spread through her.

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” she said. “Now hand me that bottle before I shove even more dirt down your throat.”

He reached over and plucked it from the table. She took a swig and swished it around her mouth.

Chat leaned against the railing, his eyes bright in the semi-darkness. “I think it’s my turn, right?”

She spit out the water into her rose bush. “We’re still playing?”

“Why not?”

“Fine. Truth or dare. Actually—hang on.” She rinsed her mouth again and showed him her teeth. “Is it gone?”

He leaned in to get a closer look. “Not quite. But I think brown’s a good color on you.”

She rolled her eyes and took another drink. Really, she should go downstairs and rinse her mouth out like she’d made him do. But she didn’t feel like leaving. She could deal with the earthy aftertaste a little longer.

She closed the lid of the water bottle. “Okay. Truth or dare?”

“Mmm … truth.”

His arms wrapped around her from behind, squeezing her close to him. She could feel his heartbeat thumping steadily against her back.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” she murmured.

“I’m thinking about how Adrien Agreste is a total idiot.”

She froze. “What?”

“He could have had this all along, but he was too blind to see what was right in front of him.” He brought his chin to rest on top of her head. “I’m sorry he hurt you, Marinette. I’m sure he didn’t mean it, but he’s still an idiot.”

She twisted around in his arms. “Chat, what are you talking about?”

The top of his mask creased in confusion. “What you told me before. The constipation medicine. The statue thing.”

Her mouth went dry, but it had nothing to do with the dirt. “I … I never said it was Adrien.”

Chat stiffened, his eyes widening to the size of golfballs. “Y-yeah, you did. You mentioned it.”

She shook her head slowly. “No, I didn’t.”

“Of course you did. Or else, how would I know it was him?” He laughed nervously.

“Because …” She pulled back, looking deeply into his face. She could see it now—in the slope of his jaw, the shape of his nose, the curve of his lips. And as different as his eyes were, they were still somehow the same.

“Because you are Adrien,” she breathed.

He opened his mouth. Shut it. Licked his lips. Opened it again. Finally, he sighed. “Yeah. It’s me.”

“Holy crap,” she whispered. She stumbled backward, taking him in from head to toe like she was looking at him for the very first time. Chat. Adrien. Chat. Adrien. CHAT. ADRIEN??

He looked down at his silver-toed boots. “Are you mad because I made you eat dirt and tell me all your embarrassing secrets?”

Her mind was still reeling. Somehow she managed to find her voice. “Well, you did all that before I knew who you were. So I’m not sure it really makes a difference now.”

“It doesn’t?”

“I mean—yeah, of course it makes a difference. It makes all the difference! Or actually—maybe it doesn’t? I don’t know. I—I can’t decide if this changes nothing … or everything.”

His eyes flickered up to meet hers. “Does it change how you feel about … us?”

A thrill ran through her. Us. He wants there to be an us.

She wet her lips. “I already told you I was hopelessly, embarrassingly in love with you.”

“But then you said we were just friends.”

“Yeah? And then I ate dirt and made out with you.” She mustered a smile, trying not to notice the pounding of her heart. “I know I don’t always give great signals, thought I was being pretty clear that time.”

He offered a gentle smile. “I’m sorry I was so slow.”

“Better late than never, right?”

“Right.” Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out and clasped her hands in both of his.

Marinette’s heart stuttered. It was weird that two minutes ago they’d been practically making out, and now suddenly everything felt so new and uncertain. He was still Chat, right? He’d always been Chat.

“You know,” she said, “I feel like I should probably be really embarrassed. Since I brought up the … constipation thing. And the statue thing.” She tried to ignore her blush. “But I just watched you scarf down a handful of dirt like you were a toddler with a piece of birthday cake, and for some reason that makes me feel less embarrassed.”

Adrien laughed and squeezed her hands. “Hey. You ate dirt too.”

“Yeah, but you ate it first. And I’ve seen you do a lot other stupid things before.”

“True.” He lifted their hands and pressed her fingers to his lips. Her skin tingled at his touch.

“I always thought Adrien Agreste was kind of perfect,” she said. “So it’s nice to know you’re actually just as much of a clown as I am.”

He smiled against her fingers. “This court jester is honored to have somehow captured the heart of the fair princess. He’s thought of nothing but her, night after night.”

She looked up through her lashes. “What about Ladybug?”

He lowered their hands, looking solemn. “She’ll always be special to me. But the girl who truly has my heart is the girl who ate dirt just because I dared her and she’s petty. Ladybug can be petty sometimes, but she’d never be petty enough to eat dirt.”

Marinette snorted. “Maybe she has.”

“Im-paw-sible.”

“In fact, I know she has.”

“How would you even know?”

“I was there.”

“Suuure.”

“You were there too.”

“Yeah, oka—wait, what?”

She looked up into his stunned face. Her heart was thumping so loudly she was almost sure he could hear it.

He blinked. Blinked again. “Marinette, are you saying what I think you’re saying? What I hope you’re saying?”

“What are you hoping I’m saying, kitty cat?” She freed one hand from his grasp and nudged his bell to make it jingle. “You know, it’s my turn now. And I pick truth.”

“Are you Ladybug?” he whispered.

She leaned in close so that their faces were just inches apart. “Yep.”

“You better not be messing with me,” he said. “Because apart from you just telling me you love me, this is the best news I’ve ever heard in my entire life.”

“I already told you—it’s truth or dare. I can’t lie. I mean, I could go get Tikki to prove it, but I don’t actually want to. Because I don’t want her around when I kiss you stupid.”

His cheeks went pink under his mask, which made her feel ridiculously smug and also kind of giddy, her stomach fluttering like it was filled with akumas.

Adrien leaned in even closer so that their noses were almost touching, his breath tickling her lips. “I’m already stupid, but I would very much like you to kiss me stupider.”

“Do you dare me?” she murmured.

“I double-dog dare you. No. Double-cat dare you.”

She couldn’t even bring herself to point out how stupid that was, because his lips were right there and if she didn’t kiss him again that instant she was going to lose her mind.

He let out a muffled “Mmph!” as she shoved her lips roughly against his, but then he relaxed into the kiss with a low hum, his arms tightening around her.

It wasn’t until she felt something gritty scrape her inner lip that she remembered. She jerked away.

His lips trailed after her for a moment before he pulled back, blinking. “What’s wrong?”

“I just ate dirt,” she said.

“So?”

“So, we’re kissing, and I just ate dirt!”

“We kissed after I ate dirt,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but not until after I’d made you go rinse your mouth out. I should go down and use the mouthwash so—”

“Noooo.” He tugged her closer, wrapping his arm around the small of her back. “Don’t leave. I don’t mind a little dirt. I think it adds … panache.”

She snorted. “Alright then.”

“Come on, Ladybug. The hero of Paris is scared of a little dirt?”

“I’m not scared of it. I ate it, didn’t I?”

“Mmmm. Ladybug ate dirt. This is the best day of my life.”

“Oh, that’s why it’s the best day of your life?”

He pulled her even closer. “Ladybug loooves me. And she wants to smooch me. And she’s just as much of a clown as I am. That’s why.”

He leaned down, but she stopped his lips with a finger.

“You better not tell anyone. About anything that happened tonight.”

He grinned. “Don’t worry, princess. I’ll keep your dirt-y little secret.”

This time when he went in for the kiss, she didn’t stop him. Her lips parted against his and she felt him smile as she yanked him closer by the bell.

It tasted like dirt, but she didn’t care.

Notes:

check out tcat's art HERE!!!! THANK U <333333