First Order of Business | Adrienette

Ugly Men

A/N: Word count warning. 8,083 words 🧎🏻‍♀️
-
Marinette knows there are worse men on Earth but in that moment, Adrien was the cause of her emotional demise. She doesn't know why she went into the empty office to check up on him. He probably didn't realize, but he was in the office for about five minutes, standing still in complete silence. She thought maybe a scorpion had come out of the boxes and bit him, knocking him out. Or he's the type of person who looks allergic to dust, and he was having a quiet reaction and was dying. Either way, her imagination was enough to get her to go to the door.
It was fine for five seconds before she remembered all his talking and lack of listening. Maybe she hasn't given him chances to listen to her, but either way, it's a very frustrating thing they have going on. She has to remind herself she doesn't know him like that, and she shouldn't either way.
She's alone in the office after he leaves for his meeting, Marinette noticing a little stomp in his step. She hasn't updated Alya on the situation nor does she want to. She can play it Adrien's way and let it die off. Shop talk only.
She checks her phone with a restaurant name and time from Kim. Maybe she is going just to spite her boss a little. But she's young and single. She can go on dates and get to know people. She hasn't been interested because there hasn't been anyone she's interested in and all the blows to her professional career take too much of a toll on her. Yeah. She can have fun.
-
Adrien is laying on his couch in pajamas Saturday night when Nino comes into his apartment with the key Adrien gave him for emergencies. Granted, there's never been an emergency just Adrien not picking up his phone on purpose or because he forgets he has one. Chloe has a key she's definitely overused. At the start of her pregnancy, she came over to steal a half empty jar of marmalade he bought at the farmer's market months before and forgot about. Chloe remembered.
Nino looks down at Adrien with his hands out and screams, "Dude!" Adrien strains a smile and holds up a peace sign. Nino usually wears jeans and some random shirt for his DJ gigs, but he's wearing a button up shirt that has a weird shine to it and navy blue slacks. "Go get dressed. Chris is in the car. If we take too long, he's going to extort me."
"Chrissy is playing your DD today?"
"Our DD. Go get dressed," Nino said and pointed to Adrien's hallway where his bedroom was. Adrien let out a heavy groan.
"I don't feel like going, Nino. Go by yourself. I didn't even buy a masquerade mask."
"I bought you one because I knew you'd forget. Go get dressed." He is like a mockingbird, and Adrien is trying to consider if it is worth continuing to try to get out of it or just go.
Adrien warns him as he gets up, "I'm going to be a Debby Downer."
"You can be Bertha Bummer or Maggie Misery for all I care. Go get dressed!"
"Why do you want me there so bad?" Adrien sighs and starts making his way towards his room.
"This is for your own good. One day when you need a favor from me, you can throw this in my face."
"Can I throw it in your face now to not go?"
"Go get dressed!"
Adrien put on a black dress shirt that was also a short sleeve and a nice pair of black jeans that for the most part, were the same shade of black. He left his room, and Nino looked him up and down and smiled.
"I knew you were going to wear all black," Nino laughed. Adrien didn't question it until they went down to Nino's car where Chris was already at the wheel, blasting rap music and bopping his head along. In the back seat, was a black masquerade mask with two cat ears above the eyes.
Adrien picked it up before sitting down and asked, "This is for me?" Nino looks back from the passenger seat and grins.
"However did you guess?" Chris suddenly steps on the gas, emitting a scream from both of the grown men in the car. "Jesus Christ!"
Chris doesn't seemed phased and says, "Just Chris is fine." He drives faster than Nino, but somehow, his turns are much cleaner. Adrien will keep that thought to himself. "So Adrien. I hear a girl has you crying and throwing up."
"Um," Adrien raises an eyebrow. "No? I don't think I remember the last time I cried." He does remember the last time he threw up, but it's not a story for Chris to hear.
Nino turns his head back to say, "It's an expression. Basically, she has you weak in the knees."
"She has you gagged," Chris itterates. Both Nino and Adrien stare at Chris with wide eyes. "It means speechless!" That makes more sense to him.
"Yes, I guess?" Adrien sits back and crosses his arms.
"Tell me about her," Chris says like an old therapist Adrien had years ago. Nino reaches over and smacks his brother on the head.
"Stay out of adult business." Adrien can see Chris roll his eyes from the rear view mirror. Nino tells Chris about a lot of their business either way. Adrien once witnessed Nino infodumping on Chris for about an hour straight before either of them said a single word. Maybe that's why Nino and Adrien are such good friends.
"I'm literally 154. Tell me about her, Mr. Vice President."
"There's not a lot to say. Nothing is allowed to happen, either way."
"Forbidden romance," Chris clicks his tongue. "I've been there before."
Nino scoffs, "You were eight. Of course you weren't allowed to date."
"You're allowed to date and can't get anyone. This is a conversation for true cassanovas only." Nino reaches over to hit Chris again, but Chris swerves the car, Nino falling over to the side to hit his head on the car window.
"Chris!" Nino yells and groans in pain. "My glasses smashed into my skull."
"Adrien," Chris meets his eyes through the mirror. "Why does that girl make you sad?" It is in the very nature of the Lahiffe siblings to just pretend the other doesn't exist at all when they're annoyed with the other. For the rest of the car ride, it would just be Chris and Adrien or Nino and Adrien. Adrien knows to just go along with it.
"We were becoming good friends, but I followed your one brother's advice and now she's mad at me. We kind of got into a fight."
Nino who is still rubbing the side of his head tells Adrien, "You didn't tell me that."
Chris ignores Adrien and says, "Have you tried apologizing for listening to a bastard's advice?"
Nino yells, "We have the same parents!"
"I was going to and then it just didn't happen. We were talking and it was fine and then she got mad at me all over again. It doesn't matter though. It's not getting past whatever it seemingly was. It's better this way for the both of us." The idea of letting it go continues to make him sad.
"You both liked each other?"
"I can't deny I was attracted to her. And part of me wants to think she liked me a little bit, too, but she's better at hiding it."
"Forbidden romance thing."
"Yeah, that would probably do it. Plus, she went on a date with someone else yesterday."
Nino asks, "She did?"
"She did?" Chris repeats. "Did she plan it in front of you?"
"Yes."
"Well. There's your answer," Chris gives him a smirk.
"See," Adrien snaps his fingers. "I knew I wasn't crazy."
"No, you still are."
"Oh."
"You are for listening to that one brother of mine."
"Probably won't be going to that brother for any more advice if we're being honest."
Nino huffs, "You guys are unbelievable."
Chris gets them to the front of the club where there is a long line of well dressed people standing outside. There's a much shorter VIP line of even better dressed people with either camera equipment or just a mask and badge. Adrien and Nino put on their masks before getting off the car and joining them. They all have to check their phones in at the front desk, but it's not long before they're let inside, the VIP entrance giving them the option to go straight to the main floor to the upstairs part that's reserved for them.
Adrien follows Nino onto the main floor where it's slowly filling out with people. It is a nice club. The lights haven't been dimmed all the way, and Adrien took in the black tiles that eventually met a sturdy glass dance floor that reflects different colors. The ceilings are mirrors, with various light fixtures and light projectors nailed in. Popular music is playing off the large speakers Nino is admiring. Most importantly, an entire wall makes up the already busy bar with different colored egg shaped stools going down in a line.
Adrien puts a hand on Nino's shoulder and asks, "How'd you land this gig?"
"I'm good at my job," Nino smiles from under his turtle shell mask. Adrien realizes that Nino's shirt is glowing under the dimmed lights and tugs at his sleeve. It is very Nino to buy glow in the dark clothing to stand out.
"You should've gotten me one of these," Adrien says in earnest.
"I thought you might want to blend in instead," Nino shrugs.
"That you were right about." Adrien looks down to his own chest and tugs at his VIP badge hanging on a lanyard around his neck. "How mad at me would you be if I just got a drink and went upstairs?" There is a second set of glass stairs on the main floor that are guarded. Adrien can see a very comfortable couch from where they're standing past the glass fencing.
"Will you at least try to mingle with whoever is up there?"
"No promises," Adrien grins. Nino rolls his eyes, but Adrien knows he's anxious to go looking for that he told him about. Adrien could play the charmer when he wanted, but he had no energy to. "I'll look over the balcony for your set. It can be like in the movies when the kid thinks his parents aren't going to show up to his recital, but they make it right on the knick of time."
"Don't get so drunk you fall over. That's my only request, and I think it's fair."
"That I can promise."
-
Marinette did not have fun on her date, and Alya was on the verge of making her go to a yoga class because of all of the stress she kept experiencing nonstop.
She was already down from the wall Adrien and her had between them all day, the silence more excruciating than it was before they talked again. She went home and got ready, ignoring Alya's texts that were a mix of questioning why she agreed to the date and threatening her that she better still have the energy to go to the club opening the next day.
She took a cab to the restaurant, and at first, it was fine. Ondine's cousin was handsome and quite funny. Then came the drinks. Her, Ondine, and Kim all stared at each other in silence with their food getting cold as Ondine's cousin went on a rant about his ex wife that turned into a sexist speech. Kim had the most horrified look on his face that when Marinette thought about it, was kind of funny. The cousin would've kept talking, too, but Ondine asked Marinette to go to the restroom with her. It was then that she apologized deeply and told her to just go home because no amount of water was going to tone him down. Marinette did not have to be told twice although, she was sad to leave her shrimp salad behind.
Now she is standing in line in what Alya describes as her "pissy pants" mood. Sge is in her short red dress and a red mask dotted with black spots. She put on some strappy black heels Alya forced on her because she was about to go in her sneakers, and she is glad she did because the club is not a sleazebag attraction park. Everyone in line is gorgeous, and even when she's hiding behind a mask like everyone else, Marinette does not feel like she belongs.
She plays with the VIP badge around her neck that in a smaller font reads MEDIA GUEST.
Alya tries to reassure her, "You look great. You'll have fun. Plus, nothing like some dancing and drinking to forget about ugly men." She knows she just said that to make her laugh because Adrien is anything but ugly. Marinette is already forgetting what Ondine's cousin looked like. "Maybe you'll meet someone and distract yourself. I'm going to be working most of the time." Marinette regrets not taking up Alya's offer to just stay home, but when they get to the front, and she notices a secluded VIP area, she figures it won't be too terrible.
She checks her phone in at the front before following Alya into the main area of the club.
"It's so pretty in here," Marinette tells her. She eyes Alya's phone and asks, "Why can you keep your phone?"
"Media privilege," Alya smiles and wiggles it in her face. "They know I'll get fired if I do something fishy. Here, take a selfie with me." Marinette smiles for Alya's photo that is for her camera roll only. Her hair is up in two buns, and she threw in a red ribbon on each that came from the same fabric as her dress. One of them is loose, and she points at it, Alya immediately knowing to fix it for her.
"Thanks," Marinette says in a quiet voice. The music is booming already, but there's no DJ up yet. Alya pulls her into a quick hug because she knew Marinette would have prefered to stay home, but Marinette insisted on joining her either way. Staying home and being sad tends to make things worse for her.
"Let's get drinks before I get into reporter mode," Alya puts a hand on her shoulder and pushes her in the direction of the bar. Marinette gets to the bar first and tries to call a bartender over. A man in a black cat mask stands right next to her and calls someone over as well. They listen to him, and a bartender approaches them. Marinette scowls under her breath.
The man points at her and says, "She can go first."
"Oh," Marinette looks between the awaiting bartender and the man. "Thank you." This can be a man's good deed of the week for her. She turns back to Alya who already got caught in conversation with a man in an all silver suit, wearing an over the top mask, also silver and decked out with fake jewels and feathers. It'll be easier to guess and order for her. "Can I get a moscow mule, a negroni, and two shots of vodka."
The man next to her comments, "Rough week?"
Marinette isn't in the mood to talk to him, so she just says, "You don't even want to know." He seems to understand her comment as the end of a conversation and orders his drink that Marinette doesn't hear. She waits for Alya to get to her before they take their shots, the man already gone.
Alya makes a face after drinking her shot and takes a drink from her moscow mule that doesn't seem to help. "Who was your friend?" she asks in between sour expressions.
"Black Cat? Some emo boy," Marinette shrugs. She looks down to her drink and takes a sip from it. She decides she likes it. "Who was your friend?"
"Club owner undercover," Alya says.
"He's really standing out for someone undercover."
"He's," Alya tries to find the words to describe him. "Something else."
"Do I know who it is?"
"Yes, but i'm under an NDA. Can't reveal his identity until the article comes out."
"Boring," Marinette yawns. She feels a cold hand grab her shoulder. Marinette quickly spins her head back and finds a girl in a bright pink dress wearing a basic black mask there. "Hello?"
"Your dress," the girl tells her with a pearly white smile. "It looks amazing on you. Where did you get it?" Some people are calling her over to the dance floor, but she screams, "Give me a minute! Damn!" She calls over the bartender, this time sweetly asking, "Abbey, could you serve me a tray of ten shots of tequila?" Marinette doesn't know what to make of her.
"Oh, thank you but I made it." The girl gasps in admiration.
"Are you kidding me? Do you make dresses for other people?"
"I do," Marinette nods.
"You have to make me one," the girl tells her. Marinette notices the VIP badge around her neck says MANAGEMENT, so she might work there. "I have an event next month, and I'd love one similar to yours in the brightest pink fabric you can find." She seems to instinctively look for her phone, but she lets out a groan. The bartender brings her the shots on a prismatic drink tray. "Abbey, do you have a notepad?" Abbey nods and gets one out of her pocket with a pen and slides it over to them. "Give me your email, and I'll be in contact." The group calls her over again, and she screams, "I'm going! Geeze!" She politely tells Marinette she'll return and walks back to her friends with the tray.
"See," Alya giggles behind. her "I told you to wear the dress." Marinette rolls her eyes and smiles. Alya leans in and whispers, "That's the owner's daughter. She's really funny. Very nice, too."
"Do I know who she is?" Marinette asks.
"Probably not," Alya shakes her head. "I didn't know her until she came to our building with her dad." Marinette writes down her email and waits for the girl. Meanwhile, she resorts to opening a tab with Abbey who lets her know her first set of drinks were already paid for.
Alya raises an eyebrow and asks, "VIPs get free drinks?"
"Half off," Abbey shakes her head. "The tab was paid for by the gentleman who let you go first."
"Oh wow," Marinette doesn't know what to say. She takes another sip from her drink. Does she want to admit out loud that a man did a nice thing? "I guess he's really my friend." That's a heartwarming conclusion for families back home and good enough for Marinette.
When Abbey walks off, Alya tells her, "I wish my friends were nicer. Half off. Cheap."
"They probably spent it all on the glass in here," Marinette tells her. "What's going to be your job exactly?"
"Interviewing patrons. I'm not on photography thank goodness. Capturing people in clubs when they're sweaty and dry humping and then publishing them is a villainous thing."
"I'll be sure to avoid all photographers."
"No, seriously. Run if you see one."
Marinette and Alya order a few more drinks under a shared tab that they'll settle later. Non-vip members start pouring in, and Marinette is starting to feel the hazening effects of alcohol. Everyone wearing masks doesn't help with the La La La Land feeling she's getting. The girl does never get back for her email, so Marinette rips off the paper from the notepad and puts it into her strapless bra to avoid some weirdo from finding it.
She follows Alya for a while as she interviews patrons who are resting on the seats on the side, some willing to talk to her for a while, some giving short, curt answers. The first mystery DJ of the night has gone on already, and people are starting to dance. Marinette looks up to the second floor, where she sees a couch and a man in all black sitting on his own.
Now, it would only be the polite thing to go thank her new friend for the drink. She taps Alya's shoulder while she's laughing with some random guy she's interviewing and tells her she'll be upstairs. The no phone situation was somewhat anxiety inducing because she has no way of getting to Alya if she decides to move around.  But Alya and her are magnets and if needed, Alya would force the DJ to do a lost kid announcement for her.
Marinette makes her way past a lot of people she is barely able to register, the body heat making her sweat as she pushes to the stairs. She bumps elbows with many people who do not notice her, but catches a few compliments for her dress from screaming drunk girls that Marinette thanks by showing them a heart she makes with her pointer finger and thumb.
She makes it to the security guard at the front of the stairs who looks bored, and he steps to the side without Marinette having to hold up her pass. She grips to the railing and takes it one step at a time, sometimes standing on the steps with both feet to catch herself. Maybe a third drink wasn't the best idea but hey, she is forgetting the so called ugly men.
She gets to the top of the VIP area, and it is luxurious. She didn't think it could get nicer in the building, but the floors are a nicer black marble and the dark walls have intricate gold patterns that shine ever so softly when a light in the distance hits it. There is a small hallway with a sign that says restroom above it, meaning they're much cleaner than the ones on the bottom floor. There is a mini bar with a bartender on their phone, and there is a couple sitting at the stools, one of them biting the chin of the other. Marinette looks towards the long black couches and sees her emo friend.
She decides to get another drink and talks to the bartender, "The kitty cat over there." She points at her friend. "What'd he order?" She is hoping he's had more than the first drink he ordered on the first floor.
"A gin and tonic." Marinette considers it for a moment although there is not a lot of thinking going on in her brain.
"Give me two." The bartender gets to work, Marinette tapping her foot to the music. It's surprising not as loud, as if the music was behind a different wall all together. She looks to her friend for a moment, but he hasn't moved. He's at the end of the couch, looking over at the crowd.
Marinette doesn't feel like having two different tabs open so she just swipes her debt card before taking the drinks over to the man. Besides the couple and the bartender, they are the only two people up there. Sober Marinette, which is actually just anxiety induced Marinette for the most part, comes out for a moment to stall her. She stands still behind the couch and takes a large drink from what is now her cup before going to stand in front of him. She can feel herself swaying slightly although she's not sure she physically is.
"I.O.U. from earlier," she tells him and holds out the drink. The man meets her eyes through their masks, and he flashes a handsome smile.
"I didn't think I'd get caught," he says and accepts the drink. His fingers fumble with Marinette's for a bit, both of them trying to make sure neither of them dropped the glass.
"You'd make a terrible criminal."
"Thank you," the man says. "For the drink. Not for invalidating my dream job." He pats the empty cushion next to him. "Sit, Ladybug."
"You figured it out. Good job," Marinette praises him. She walks by him and quickly pats his head as if he were a real cat. "Yours isn't too much of a brain teaser."
"My friend got it for me," he says. Marinette notices the VIP badge around his neck. She can't see too well in the dark, so she reaches over to grab it and brings it closer to her face.
"Music guest. Your friend is a DJ tonight?"
"Yes. Not this one, though. Who brought you here?"
Marinette shows him her badge, "Nosy people."
"A reporter?"
"Maybe," Marinette shrugs. "Maybe a photographer or a news channel representative."
"That explains why you're on your own."
"Why are you on your own?" She takes a small sip from her drink.
"I didn't want to come," he laughs. It's a haughty laugh that makes his Adam's apple move. Marinette wants to hear more of it. "But he is my friend, so I'm here to support him. And cheap drinks." He raises his glass up, Marinette learning that for some reason, she is very attracted to forearms.
"Rough week?" The corner of his mouth twitches into a smile. Marinette doesn't know how she happens to be saying all the right things. Or maybe she's not and it's just the dress and all the alcohol they've both drunk. People have always told her she's pretty, and she's never believed it because she grew up staring at magazines. Maybe this is the moment she starts to believe the people who love her- even if she's just wearing half her face.
He answers her, "Something like that." He takes another sip of his glass. "How did you know my drink?"
"The same way I found out you paid for mine. Workers will answer anything when you're a paying customer."
"Here I thought you were using your pretty eyes to get information out of people." So it's not the dress. It's something more innocent than that, and Marinette almost feels bad for devouring the man with those very eyes moments ago. Almost.
"That works too," Marinette smiles coyly. The two sit in silence, sober Marinette coming to the forefront, unsure of what to say or do. She's been relying on sipping her drink for the pauses, but she doesn't want to finish it so soon. How do people meet people? This is very hard.
"So what do you do, Ladybug?" She doesn't think she'll ever see him again. She considers complete honesty and then considers she might never want to see him again by the end of the conversation. Men seem to have that effect on her lately, so she chooses safety.
"I'm a seamstress." She points at her mask and then her dress. "I made these."
"Did you make the shoes, too?"
"I'm not a miracle maker." Marinette, both sober and drunk, knows that's not funny, but the man laughs anyway.
"I like them," he tells her. "You're very talented."
"What do you know about fashion Mr. Black Shirt and Black Pants Of a Different Shade?" He shifts a little in his seat but ultimately sits with his torso facing her a little more than before. There's a smirk on his face.
"Are you making fun of my outfit?" he asks after a swift silence.
"To be fair, you did say you didn't want to come."
"That is fair," he nods. "I was just trying to hide in the shadows here. A little bug found me, though."
"You have very bright blond hair in case you didn't know."
He does a fake gasp that makes Marinette giggle, "I had no idea, truly."
"You learn something new everyday." Marinette finishes her drink and puts it on the coffee table in front of them. "Now it's my turn. What do you do?" She sits back and puts the side of her head on the couch, not bothering with the fact that it might smudge off her exposed makeup. If she's getting wasted, she might as well look the part.
The man seems to consider it for a moment like she had. Maybe he will also indirectly lie, and Marinette knows she can take it if one more man lies to her before the week ends.
"I work in marketing," he says. Marinette wants to probe but at the same time, she knows she is a stranger. If either of them wanted to say more, they would've started off with detailed honesty. Her answer was probably obviously vague as well. Neither of them are here for marriage.
"That sounds boring," she says. "What about in your free time?" She is digging through the first date questions she looked up before meeting Ondine's cousin. She didn't get to ask a single one.
"I do this," he gestures around the club. "Although not as much recently."
"Get badly dressed for clubs you don't want to go to?" The man laughs again, and Marinette relishes in the sound.
"You have quite a bit of bite on you, don't you? Oh." He snaps his fingers a couple of times, trying to get the words out. "Bug bite." It's Marinette's turn to laugh at something that isn't that funny, but it's this man and his forearms saying it so she lets it pass.
"That's terrible. I should've never repaid you for your good deed," Marinette smirks. The man finishes his drink as well and puts it down.
"Would you like another drink? On me again." Marinette considers it. She didn't exactly have a plan when coming up here to see her new friend, and he is now trying to get her to stay. She looks out over to the crowd, trying to find Alya for three seconds before deciding looking at the bottom half of this man's face was more fun.
"I'll bite. I'll have another one of these," Marinette points to their empty glasses. The man whistles at the bartender and does a hand motion signaling a second round, the bartender understanding. She doesn't know why, but she finds it attractive. This man is messing with her brain circuits and for all she knows, he could have a hideous top half of his face. She doesn't even believe that chance though. It's dark, but she knows he has pretty eyes by the techno lights that occasionally flash on his face.
The bartender brings over new glasses and takes away the old ones, leaving them alone again.
Marinette asks him, "Since you club so often, is this place worth the exclusivity? Hiding phones away for the opening."
"I think it's just a marketing strategy," he says in a business voice. "Get people curious and itching to see it themselves before photos are out. It's hard to get people to leave their phones behind but to get to say you danced in a new club before anyone else must be part of the experience."
"I forgot I didn't have my phone on me," Marinette says honestly.
"Me, too. I never use it in the first place, either way." Sober Marinette raises an eyebrow. She looks at his blond hair and then at his eyes that are staring blankly at his glass. No. No way.
She chugs half of her drink as lady like as she can and reconsiders. No. No way. There are definitely more than two white men in Paris with blond hair and colored eyes. And he didn't have this on his schedule, and Adrien puts everything on his schedule. To her knowledge, none of his friends are DJs. Nino probably works at his family's restaurant and she doubts Chloe is going to show up to the club in a mask and a smaller mask just in case a certain someone pops out in the club bathroom.
She relaxes a bit again and puts the drink down for the time being. This man is just a handsome stranger that she is talking to before she never sees him again. It's starting to bother her that she'll never seen him again, but she knows that's the nature of clubs and partying. The alcohol helps with that thought.
He asks her, "What do you do in your free time, Ladybug?"
"Sew." She forgot that's already what she said she does for work. "Even after work is done, I do it for fun. Helps me get better."
"That's nice," he smiles. He tries to lean his head on the couch like Marinette is but being much taller, he puts up his arm for additional support. His chin is nestled in the corner of his elbow, and they are staring at each other. She never feels the need to look away. She has as much power as he does. "What do you like about sewing?"
Marinette thinks for a moment before she starts spilling slurred words and rushed sentences to him about her first sewing machine and first projects when she was a preteen. How she wanted this skirt from a catalog, but it was way too expensive so she just decided she could make it with her mom's old sewing machine. It took five different attempts, but it worked and she made one for her best friend in a different color.
Their conversation shifts from sewing to his clubbing habits to their favorite drinks. She tells him about the first time she got really drunk and her friends had quietly take her up her stairs without her parents noticing, and he tells her about the last time he threw up. He doesn't say where, but the details he's avoiding saying makes it sound like he was in a strip club.
It's nice talking with someone different for once. Even if she doesn't know what he looks like, truly, she has enough in front of her and enough right words leaving his mouth to know she enjoys sitting there with him, ignoring the rest of the world through inebriated haze.
They're both talking slower and slower, and the man called over some water bottles for them. Marinette makes him open hers for her not because she can't but because she wants him to do it. They drink half of them, the water bottles resting on the table before they're staring at each other again. Marinette copies his pose by putting her arm up to her face as well, and an amused grunt leaves his throat. They are sitting close enough to each other that she can hear it.
"Copy cat," he tells her, his voice lazy yet still loud enough for her to hear. She just smiles. "Your ribbon." He moves his arm out from under him to reach over to her hair. He holds the ribbon between his pointer finger and thumb, Marinette holding her breath. "It's come undone."
"Do you know how to tie bows?" He shakes his head no but doesn't move his hand. Marinette reaches up and gets a hold of his hand, gently pushing it down to her lap. She reaches up again and pulls on the ribbon, letting is slide out of her hair in a clean motion as she undoes Alya's original knot. His hand is tense on her lap, and she can't help but quietly laugh at him. "Here. A souvenir." She holds that forearm of his up and starts tying the ribbon around where a watch should be.
"Isn't your hair going to fall?"
"No. I have a hair tie that's holding it up. This was extra."
"Accessories. Very fashionista of you." They both smile as Marinette finishes tying the knot. With his other hand, he feels the ribbon again. "Is this the same fabric as your dress?"
"Yeah. I'm surprised you noticed." She still hasn't let go of that forearm of his and perhaps it has been too long since she's really held onto anyone at all with this sort of tension. This one, not a liability to her job.
He licks his bottom lip and tells her, "Lucky guess." He seems to experimentally pull the arm she's holding towards him, Marinette also tilting forward. The Sober Marinette part of her brain wakes up, but she is here to negotiate.
There are worse things that she's done this week that will always be worse than kissing a nice stranger at the club with hot forearms. Fighting her boss for example and meddling into his family affairs.
She went on one terrible blind date, and this would cancel it out.
She can always just blame this on being drunk if she regrets it later.
She feels his breath over her lips when he asks, "Is this okay?" Marinette barely nods when she's the one who leans in first to kiss him.
It's soft. Much nicer than what she'd expect kissing a stranger in the club. She can ironically call him her friend all she wants but that's what he is. Both of their mouths taste like alcohol, and she feels as if she's going to end up more drunk from the kiss itself. Drunk off this man who all she can think of when her eyes are closed is that laugh of his that sends vibrations through her chest when she hears it.
He leans in closer to her, putting a hand on a respectable part of her back. She grazes her hand past the side of his stomach where she holds onto his shirt. She's the type to make a face when she sees people making out in public, but the drunken part of her is already going to miss the feel of his tongue when it's over. She wants to kiss him over and over again, even if there's a chance the VIP area could suddenly flood with patrons tired of dancing.
She pulls away slightly, and she looks at his eyes to see if maybe he has words for her that she can't form herself right now. His lips are glistening, and he's breathing faster than what he was before. She wants to study him- take him apart and put him back together. But for now she settles for kissing him.
She didn't realize a stranger could be so intoxicating, the feeling in her stomach driving her to push her mouth harder on his. He doesn't seem thrown off by her sudden movement and puts his other hand on the side of her face where he strokes her jaw with his thumb. She finds herself pulling harder at his shirt, and he laughs into the kiss at a private joke with himself she wants to discover. She wants to laugh with him, too.
"What?" she smiles. The nose of his mask bumps against hers.
"You hate this shirt." A terrible yet funny conclusion to arrive at.
"It's not the best shirt I've seen," she makes her hand tilt side to side. The man laughs again, and leaves a soft kiss on the corner of her lips. She wonders if he intentionally missed.
"I'll burn it for you if you hate it so much." For you.
"How romantic. I bet you tell that to all the girls you meet and make out with at clubs." They both laugh into each other, his hand on her back pushing her closer to him with little effort.
"I actually haven't done this in years. I was a kid back then."
"How old are you?" Suddenly it comes to Marinette's mind that she could be making out with a 40 year old.
"25." Her shoulders perk up, and she can feel his fingers tap her spine. "What?"
"I am also 25." She wonders if he will ask more. If she wants to ask more. They both seem to be thinking about it- on digging further behind the mask. She knows she has too much in her life going on right now. The uncomfortableness that comes with thinking about asking more about him lets her get over it. She'll relish in the unknown.
She sees someone coming up stairs, and at first she's going to ignore them, but she sees them with camera equipment around their neck. The man seems to notice her frown because turns to look.
He tells her, "Oh, club photographers. My age old enemies." He stands up, pulling Marinette up with him.
"You've been clubbing since birth or what?" He laughs again and pulls her to the direction of the two single stall bathrooms.
"Something like that." He points at one of the doors and tells her, "Hide in there until they leave. I'll be in this one. They might wait a while for us to get out if they already spotted us."
"Why won't they bother the couple at the bar?"
"We're more attractive," he winks at her through his mask. Marinette smiles and pushes her back against the door to go in, watching him do the same until they're both inside their respective bathrooms.
-
Adrien rips off the mask to wash his face with cold water. He's red, and his entire body is on fire. If he thought Marinette was going to be the death of him for this week, this woman said hold my gin and tonic and took over hours before Saturday ended. His flushed face sticks out in the mirror of the all emerald green bathroom. He almost wishes it was a nasty, typical club bathroom so he can have some semblance of regret to lead him back to sober, logical, and responsible Adrien who can hold back.
But the alcohol has won. It only took the first drink she brought him over to just know he wanted to and had to kiss her before the night ended. If he's felt this way with someone before, it's never been permitted or has never worked out. And now he's standing in a club bathroom in an all black outfit where under that lighting, he realizes his shirt and pants are two different shades of black which makes him feel pathetic, and he wants to ask that woman for his number which also makes him feel like a loser.
Why did she have to have such pretty eyes? He paid for her drink because her tired, Bambi reminiscent eyes made her look sad, and he wanted to at least do one nice thing for someone after messing up all week. And next thing he knew, she was tying the ribbon around his wrist where he forgot to put his watch back on after a shower, as if she knew he had some part missing to him there.
But it's a club encounter. He knows better now to not let them get his head in the clouds. Maybe she won't like that he's Adrien Agreste behind the mask or maybe she also finds comfort hiding behind a mask and won't want to show herself. He won't blame her.
He dries his face with paper towels and catches his breath. He can't let himself get carried away so fast all over again. God, maybe he did need therapy. Did his father-
There's a knock on the bathroom door. Adrien puts on his mask again before going to answer. Ladybug is there, looking out to the VIP area.
"They won't leave," she said frowning. "And more people are coming up."
"Did you leave anything over there?" he asks her. She shakes her head, and without doing any more thinking because thinking leads to less fun, Adrien sweeps her into the bathroom by grabbing her hand. She lets out a small gasp, and he locks them in with the door fully shut.
His back is to the door, and he's looking down to her. Under this white lighting, he can see remnants of the lipstick he kissed off on her chin. He reaches over to wipe it off for her, and she makes a clicking sound with her tongue.
"You licked all my lipstick off, Kitty Cat," she tells him.
"Not all of it. That's what I'm trying to clean off." When he's done, he rubs his thumb over her lip. "There I put it back."
"So very kind of you." She does a mock bow, and her grin sets him ablaze again. He grabs her by the shoulders and bends down to kiss her, the woman smiling into his lips. He knows her rhythm now, and she knows his and this waltz of a kiss is better than what it was outside. Maybe it's the privacy of the four walls, but he tries to get her as close to him as humanely possible and with enough space to not drive him insane. It's a very hard task.
She breaks her lips off his much to his disappointment and asks, "Doesn't your back hurt?" He towers over her, but he's been ignoring the dull ache in the upper part of his spine in order to make most of the time they have left. He has no idea how much that is. He looks over at the sink and puts a hand on it to make sure it's dry. The woman looks at him confused before Adrien goes and picks her up by the waist. She emits a squeal as Adrien sets her down on the sink's counter space. He is face to face with her now.
He plants an experimental kiss on her, and he leans away to say, "Better." She smiles and wraps her arms around his neck, kissing him this time. His hands find their way to her hips, and he keeps them there for the next while. Neither of them make a move to go further, and Adrien doesn't want to either way.
She's running her fingers through Adrien's hair when there's a knock on the door. They look at each other with wide eyes. The woman puts a finger on Adrien's lips to signal him to be quiet and then she calls out, "Yes?"
"Sorry!" a girl answered. "I just wanted to make sure there was nobody here. The other restroom is being used by an entire group doing coke, and I really need to pee." They've been there long enough that people have gone upstairs. It means that the first DJ probably finished his set, and Nino would be up next. He said something about being the middle guy out of three DJs.
"Give me a minute, I'm breaking up with my boyfriend!" Ladybug yells over Adrien's shoulder. He doesn't expect that to come out of her mouth, and he breaks into a goofy grin he almost feels embarrassed about until she matches it.
The girl pauses on the other side of the door but eventually says, "Um. I'll just got back downstairs. Good luck?"
Adrien whispers to her, laughing into her cheek, "That was your master plan?"
"It worked," she smiled. She gave him a long kiss that they didn't deepen and when she pulled away, she told him in a quiet voice, "Well I guess we should probably go our separate ways before someone else wants to do coke here."
"Oh," Adrien says. He is not going to ask for her information. He is not going to ask for her information. He is not going to ask for her information. "Yeah. I can leave first. Tell people I just dumped you if they try to come in. I'll play the bad guy for you."
"Can you say I was the one that dumped you? It'll make me look cooler."
He musters a smile and says, "Anything for you, Ladybug." He gives her one last chaste kiss before heading towards the door. He is not going to ask. He is not going to ask. He is not going to ask.
"Hey," the woman says softly. He turns back to her, and she seems to have conjured a piece of paper out of nowhere. He feels this instant lightness in chest when he sees an email address is written on there. "This is my seamstress email but it's me," she says. "You don't have to contact me, though."
He takes it from her hand and then places a kiss on the paper. "Maybe I'll need some fashion advice in the near future." She smiles at him before Adrien gives her a real goodbye kiss. They don't see each other for the rest of the night.
-
A/N: This chapter nearly killed me. I get so embarrassed about writing kissing because I feel like I'm invading their privacy, and I'm still sick in another country and my keyboard broke a little 🎻 Don't ask why I write over 6k words every time they're drunk 🙂 Maybe I'm living vicariously through them.
Thank you for reading ♥️