Chapter Text
Adrien did not have a crush on Marinette.
But, he thought as she blushed and stuttered in the face of his cheerful “Hello,” he was flummoxed as to why he couldn’t seem to get to know her.
After so many years of homeschooling, Adrien had been privately terrified that he’d be inept at making friends, coming in so late to the Collége. But to his surprise, the dull fashion-forward functions that his father forced him into had actually prepared him better than he thought. Polite small talk came easily to him, and he found he even enjoyed it when conversing with people his own age.
He slipped easily into friendship with Nino, who took his fame in stride and mostly acted as if he were just a normal fourteen year-old boy - a refreshing break from the life he’d known before. Alya, with her fiery and outgoing personality, had his number within two days of meeting him, and had managed to establish at least seven inside jokes with him in only a week. And of course there was Chloé; despite his reluctance, she seemed to cling to him without any effort on his part whatsoever.
And so, naturally, the one person whose attention he just could not hold, was the one whose attention he wanted most.
He brought his focus back to said person, who was somehow still stuttering out a response to his greeting.
“I mean- and I- sorry. What I was saying was- er-“
Adrien put a hand on Marinette’s shoulder, effectively silencing her attempt at a response to his greeting. A rather becoming blush blossomed on her cheeks, and Adrien’s heart skipped a beat as her blue, suddenly wide eyes focused intently on him.
He wasn’t sure what made him do it, but later he’d blame it on those eyes.
“Marinette. I was wondering if you wanted to hang out during lunch today?”
She didn’t answer, only continued to stare at him. He felt an embarrassed blush, surely rivaling hers, spread up his neck.
“I mean! If you don’t already have plans. I know you usually hang out with Alya or go home...”
Her eyes widened impossibly, and he reached up to scratch the back of his neck. How did he know that? It wasn’t like he really paid that much attention to Marinette. Well, maybe he did pay a little attention. Maybe more than necessary. Oh god, she still wasn’t answering. Did she think he was a stalker? Had he really been staring that much? It wasn’t like he had a crush on her or anythi-
“Sure!”
Adrien’s eyes, which had been staring through her in a stupor of panic, snapped back to Marinette. She seemed torn between smiling enthusiastically and biting her lip, resulting in a slightly manic, albeit cute grimace.
Adrien chuckled, taking a deep breath. Why was his heart beating so frantically?
“Cool. So um, I’ll... we can...”
He hadn’t thought this far ahead. In fact, he hadn’t really thought at all. He brought his wandering eyes back to Marinette’s to ground himself, realized this was a counterintuitive course of action, then settled them somewhere on her forehead, willing his small talk autopilot to kick in already.
But Marinette beat him to it. “Let’s- let’s meet in front of the school? After. Erm. Fourth period?”
Adrien beamed as her grimace simmered into a tentative smile.
“That sounds great,” he said, and with a surge of confidence, he started to walk past her to his locker, leaning against her shoulder playfully as he did. “Think about where you’d like to eat until then. My treat.”
“O-okay!” She shouted, waving goofily to him before sprinting away.
He stifled a dumb grin as he opened his locker, feeling heat rise to his face once again. You’re excited because you’re making a new friend, he told himself sternly. Not because your new friend is nice. Or funny. Or cute. Or pretty. You love Ladybug. You do not have a crush on Marinette. You do not have a crush on Marinette. You do not-
“Hey, did you do the homework for Physics?”
“I do not have a crush on Marinette!”
Nino blinked as Adrien slammed his locker shut in surprise at his arrival. Without missing a beat, Nino raised his eyebrows.
“And Jagged Stone records grow on trees, what else is new?”
Adrien groaned and banged his head against the locker.
By the time fourth period ended, Adrien was definitely regretting his decision.
Not because he was nervous about his date - no! Hang out session with Marinette, but because he’d willingly trapped himself into a prolonged encounter with a girl who couldn’t seem to keep a proper grasp on the French language when she spoke to him. Thus, he was about to spend the next two hours with someone who either despised him, or was psychotic, or was just generally antisocial.
Although, she seemed to have no problem being outgoing when trouble (or Chloé) arose...
As the last few minutes of class ticked on, Adrien’s jittery limbs were dying for an outlet. He gave in and stretched, twisting his back in his chair this way and that, chancing a glance at Marinette and nearly choking when he found her blue eyes trained on him.
He whipped his head back to the front of the room; she’d caught him looking.
Or had he caught her looking?
He was saved from this particular dilemma by the bell, and he forcefully shoved down the butterflies in his stomach that came with it.
“Good luck,” Nino muttered with a shit-eating grin, hurrying away to tag along with Alya. They exchanged knowing glances, and Adrien gulped.
He turned to find Marinette standing stiffly by his desk. He willed an easy smile to grace his face.
“Hey. Have you decided where you want to go?”
She swallowed, and as if she were putting an immense amount of effort into stringing a sentence together, she said, “Y-yeah. How about the café across the street? I hear they give um. Student discounts.”
She blushed, and Adrien bit his lip. She was clearly remembering his offer to pay, and it was adorable.
Considerate, he corrected.
“Sounds great!” he said, standing in his chair and adjusting his bag. They walked side by side out of the classroom and into the hall.
In no way could this silence be considered comfortable. For once in his life Adrien floundered for something to say to the girl walking next to him, who was getting redder and redder by the minute. He kept casting sidelong glances at her, trying to remember things that he knew about her to ask about but he was drawing a blank, and could only seem to catalogue what was immediately in front of him: Marinette. Small. Pink pants. Lipgloss. Black hair. Pigtails. Blue eyes. Freckles. Smudge of flour on her blazer-
“So your family owns a bakery,” he remembered suddenly. “What’s that like?”
Unfortunately, Adrien had asked the question as they were heading down the stairs, and Marinette was so startled by the break in silence that she tripped.
Adrien didn’t need to be Chat Noir to be quick on his feet. He immediately pivoted, placing a foot in front of her on the step below and circling his arms around her to catch her fall.
He heard her gasp out in surprise right next to his ear, and his stomach did an impressive backflip. She seemed to realize how close they were at the same time he did, and they both pulled back in shock.
“Sorry! Oh my god, sorry,” Marinette squeaked, her hands hovering over Adrien’s shoulders before she clasped them in front of her, squeezing her eyes shut. “I’m such a putz - I mean! Klutz. I can barely walk two feet without tripping over myself.”
“It’s okay,” he said quickly, placing what he hoped was a reassuring smile on his face, which felt like it was melting. “I’m just glad you’re okay. Your books, however...”
They had fallen out of her bag, and were scattered over the steps. She laughed nervously, and he joined her in leaning down to pick them up.
His hand fell over hers as they got to the last book at the same time, and he pulled it back, looking up quickly.
“Sorry!” they said simultaneously, eyes meeting. He blushed and looked down at the same time she did, only to meet her hand once more as he went to pick up the book again. In his haste to pull back, he knocked his head against hers.
“Ouch!” They said at once, staring at each other for a second time.
The eye contact lasted only a second before they both burst into fits of giggles.
“Well, between the both of us we have at least one functioning human,” Adrien chuckled as Marinette stuffed the last book into her bag and they set off once more.
She said nothing, grinning shyly up at him. Adrien smiled even wider. He was going to get this girl out of her shell if it was the last thing he did.
Okay, well. Maybe that had been a bit of an ambitious mission to take on.
The adrenaline of saving Marinette from her fall had worn off, and now he was facing the full extent of the challenge he’d brought upon himself.
“So. your parents own a bakery, right?”
“Huh?! Wha-uh, yeah. Um. Yes.”
She stared at him sheepishly.
“So what’s that like?”
She blinked. “It’s um. Pretty cool. I really like sweets and stuff. So. yeah.”
She fell silent once more, not even daring to meet his eyes anymore.
“What’s your favorite dessert, then?”
“Oh, um, there are just so many...” She managed, and bit her lip as she pondered. Adrien waited for her answer, but the silence began to stretch, so he interjected again.
“Well mine is-“
“I think I have to go with-“
They laughed nervously at their simultaneous responses, and Adrien gestured kindly with his hand to prompt her. She began again.
“I-I think my favorite are macarons. My papa has a special chocolate-raspberry flavor that he makes, they’re really popular at the store.”
It was the first time all day that she had managed to string together a full sentence. “That sounds amazing!” Adrien enthused. “I’ll have to stop by and try them sometime.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Y-yeah! Anytime.”
“Do you think you could snag me a free sample?” he continued teasingly, with a small wink.
He’d pushed too far somehow - her eyes widened and the infamous blush returned. Her mouth gaped open and closed like a fish for a moment, before she stuttered out:
“N-not like you’d need it.”
Adrien’s insides twitched uneasily. No wonder she felt so uncomfortable around him, the way he was throwing the subject of money around. She probably thought he was some kind of snobbish, wealthy daddy’s boy who offered to pay for meals and then pushed for free stuff.
Not knowing what to say, he forced a smile, and became suddenly occupied with the menu in front of him.
They sat in silence, inspecting their menus, until the waitress came to take their orders. They gave them, and she left, taking the menus with her. Well, there went his only way out of the conversation from hell that he was scrambling to salvage.
“So,” he began again, refusing to lose hope. “You’re really good at fashion design, right?”
She brightened visibly. “Yeah! I really love it! But. I mean...” she suddenly shrank back with a modest laugh. “I’m not that good at it. Nowhere near as good as someone like your dad.”
He stomped down the urge to frown. Why did she seem to have formed some idea of who he was based on his home life? He was so much more than that.
“But my dad picked your design for his contest,” he countered, desperately trying to steer the conversation back to her.
“That’s true...” she trailed off with a small smile. “Sorry about the feathers.”
He grinned. “You couldn’t have known. The design was amazing nonetheless.”
She blushed and shut down again, and Adrien could have punched himself. You’re coming on too strong, he scolded. But there’s nothing to come on to, he amended quickly, Because it’s not a date and you do not have a crush on Marinette.
The conversation ebbed once more, and Adrien couldn’t help but feel like Marinette looked put out. He was ashamed of himself; the few questions he’d managed were probably ones she’d all heard before, the ones she was sick of answering. God knows he was sick of his classmate’s queries about his dad and his modeling career. He wondered if she felt how he had when she brought up his dad. Were money and fame all she thought of him? Were baking and fashion all he thought of her?
And damn it, why couldn’t he figure out how to make it past her unbreakable armor of nerves?
He sighed, raising his eyes from the table to her face.
“Do. Do you like me Marinette?”
If he’d thought her blush was intense before, it was nothing compared to the one she sported now. Adrien would have bet the entirety of his father’s fashion empire that her face was the color of Ladybug’s spandex suit itself.
“Because it doesn’t seem like you do,” he continued.
She opened her mouth slowly to answer, eyes darting back and forth between the floor and his eyes.
But she was spared having to reply by an enormous commotion from outside the café.
Adrien didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed at the sight of a man in a garish yellow and red costume hurling giant hotdogs at innocent bystanders out on the street. He looked quickly to Marinette, and was startled by the fierce determination in her eyes.
“You have to get to safety,” she said firmly. All traces of her debilitating stutter had vanished.
“So do you you,” he countered.
“I’m going to help evacuate the café,” she replied smoothly, getting to her feet.
“I’m going to...” he stood and searched wildly around him for a split second, then pointed. “Help that elderly lady cross the street.”
Marinette’s bemused gaze followed his finger to where a hunched, grandmotherly-looking woman was slowly making her way across the street, seemingly oblivious to the enormous and frankly (ha!) obscene rolls of processed meat flying left and right.
Marinette shrugged, and sprinted off into the depths of the café.
Adrien, true to his word, flew out the door, and scooped up the little old lady into his arms on his way across the street, narrowly dodging bundles of meat.
“Excuse me ma’am!” he bellowed, setting her down brusquely on the relatively safer street, and without losing momentum, fled into a neighboring alley and leapt into a dumpster.
“Plagg! Transform me!”
“In a second, look at this perfectly good cheese...”
“NOW!”
The kwami, who had already taken a bite of the obviously moldy wedge, gave a heavily burdened sigh and complied.
The dumpster shone with green light for a moment before Chat Noir climbed out, wasting no time in expanding his staff and flying up to the rooftops, leaping over one by one back to the scene of the crime.
“I AM THE FRANKENHURTER, AND I’LL BE DAMNED IF THE VEGANS PUT ME OUT OF BUSINESS!”
Chat paused on a rooftop right above the akumatized civillian, taking inventory of what he was up against and deciding what the best course of action would be until Ladybug showed up. Of their own accord, his eyes wandered from the supervillian to the crowds fleeing the scene, scanning for blue-black hair and hot pink jeans.
“Well well well, look what the cat dragged in.”
Chat whipped his head up to smirk at Ladybug, who was swinging her yo-yo in a casual circle. How did she manage to look so good, all the time?
“Just in time, my Lady. I was feline lonely without you.”
She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “I don’t know what’s worse: that pun, or your stench.” She gingerly plucked a banana peel off his shoulder.
“Desperate times claw for desperate measures, Bugaboo.” Chat grinned.
“Jokes later, alley cat. Saving Paris now,” Ladybug chided, flicking his ear as she leaned down beside him. “Do you have any theories on where the akuma is?”
“Probably in that red and yellow umbrella.” Chat nodded toward where the Frankenhurter had detached the umbrella from his stand and was now twirling it impressively. A long string of sausages spiraled out of it, knocking civilians aside and causing severe traffic jams that were quickly radiating out from the epicenter of his attack.
“Good guess. You take the defensive- protect the citizens, stop those sausages, and divert his attention. I’ll take the offensive on him and the umbrella.”
Chat nodded, and launched himself off the roof.
Three abducted vegans, about twelve-hundred hot dogs, and one lucky charm in the form of a meat grinder later, Paris was at peace once more, and the man previously known as The Frankenhurter had been instilled with the sudden inspiration to create the world’s best meatless hot dog.
Why couldn’t be conversation with Marinette be this easy?
“I’m amazed that you made it here before I did, Chat,” Ladybug grinned, still panting as they shared their ceremonial fist bump. “I was already in the area.”
“As was I.” He glanced at his surroundings, excited at the prospect that Ladybug, unmasked, could have been within fifty (Twenty? Ten? Five?!) feet of him just a short while ago. His eyes settled on the school, and his heart gave a hopeful jump.
“Could it be possible that my Lady goes to the Collége...?” he hinted, leaning into her. She pushed him away, turning up her nose with a smile.
“Not too close, Kitty,” she evaded. “You still smell like trash. And I could ask the same of you.”
Chat’s heart skipped a beat. Never had she done anything other than shut down the subject of their secret identities. His reply slipped out before he even considered his words.
“I’ll have you know that I was on a date.”
Ladybug’s eyes widened, and Chat stiffened. It was not a date! He yelled internally. YOU DO NOT HAVE A CRUSH ON MARINETTE!
“You really are a heartbreaker, aren’t you Chat?” she smiled, folding her arms triumphantly.
“No, Ladybug! Never, I didn’t mean-“
“Amazing. The cat loses his cool at last,” she drawled, tinkling his bell.
“It was a joke, my Lady,” Chat quickly recovered, allowing a cat-like grin to spread across his face and hoping that his mask fully covered his flushed cheeks. “I thought if I could make you jealous...”
Thankfully she laughed, going along with the excuse. “You’re incorrigible, Chat. You’ll never win my heart by those means.”
“So there is a way to win your heart!” he clutched his chest dramatically, and took her hand to kiss it delicately.
Her Miraculous beeped, and she removed her fingers from his, flicking his nose on the way up.
“There’s a way to every girl’s heart,” she said mysteriously as she wound up her yoyo, “As long as you can appreciate who she really is under the mask.”
Adrien was still mulling over Ladybug’s words by the time class reconvened after lunch.
Was it an invitation to try and figure out who her alter-ego was, or legitimate advice? Did she actually want Chat to win her heart, or was she only teasing him as per usual? And did he keep trying to apply her advice to Marinette?!
As if on cue, there was a tap on his shoulder.
He turned to Nino, who smiled devilishly and flicked his eyes backwards.
Marinette was waving to him surreptitiously. After making sure the teacher wasn’t looking, she passed him a small paper bag.
He gave her a confused look, but took the bag graciously and turned around, opening it under his desk with unsteady fingers.
In the bag was a handful of brown and pink macarons. They were accompanied by a note written on a piece of torn notebook paper, which had a portion of a doodle of some discarded fashion sketch in the corner.
‘Sorry that our lunch was cut short! I don’t know if you had time to eat so I brought some free samples back from the bakery just in case.’ The note was signed with a happy face and her name.
His stomach grumbled - he’d completely forgotten to eat. Making sure the teacher was still facing the board, he took a bite of one of the macarons and immediately began a note in reply:
‘I did forget to eat! These are delicious.’
He hesitated, and then before he could lose his nerve, added: ‘Let’s raincheck on lunch?’ and folded up the note, tossing it back to her. She caught it deftly.
Adrien willed his heart to slow as he awaited her response. One minute. Two minutes. Five minutes. Ten minutes. He fought the urge to turn around in his seat. What was taking her so long? It was just a yes or no question! Had he been too forward again? No one wanted to be friends with someone who was pushy and desperate. God, he was an idiot. This was the last time he ever tried to make friends-
A small, folded note landed neatly on his desk.
He waited a moment, not wanting to seem too eager, practically vibrating, then slowly opened it.
‘Sure.’ A tiny heart was doodled next to the word.
Ten minutes for one word?!
And yet... he couldn’t stop staring at the little heart next to it.
The bell rang, startling him out of his reverie, and Adrien began to pack up, seeing hand-drawn hearts every time he blinked. As Marinette passed his desk, he waved goodbye. She blushed prettily and gave a timid smile before going back to her conversation with Alya, the smile growing wider as she started gesticulating wildly about something or other.
Adrien tuned Nino out as they visited the lockers to get their books for English Literature. His lunch with Marinette, as well as Ladybug’s advice, had only made him more determined to get Marinette to like him. But how? How was he going to bring her out of her shell and get to the Marinette who gushed excitedly with Alya? Who stood up passionately to Chloé, and made easy conversation with Nino, and made banners for Alix, and even bantered sarcastically with Chat Noir?
And that’s when it hit him.
Adrien had an idea.
And it would require a lot of Camembert to make it work.