Chapter Text
Marinette’s face was comfortably smushed into her soft pillow when her alarm began its screaming in her ears. She groaned groggily, arm flailing until it found purchase on the little button. Unfortunately, her flailing had some casualties.
Tikki squealed as she was pushed off the bed by Marinette’s oppressive hand.
“‘M sorry, Tikki,” Marinette mumbled sleepily, blue eyes barely able to be opened.
“You have to get up for school now, Marinette.” Tikki giggled, the kwami always a perfect morning person- kwami- whatever.
She groaned but slid her feet out from beneath the warm haven of her covers. She loved art school but an 8 am class was a bad, bad idea. At least it was human figure, one of her favorites. Since her years of sketching out designs in high school and dreaming of turning her sloppy sketches into realities of fabric. Graduating high school, she couldn’t help herself, she joined an art school. She was always excited to go, every class held her attention in ways high school physics never could. But an 8 am class…
She dragged herself into the bathroom freshening up quickly. Foregoing the pigtails she’d trademarked in high school, she brushed her hair in a few quick strokes. She took the bag she’d packed meticulously the night before, the leather strap comfortable on her shoulder, before she tucked Tikki into the little pocket.
She rushed out into the Parisian morning air, the rosy glow of sunrise still washing the buildings in rays of gold. With the chilled morning air scratching at her skin, she left for school.
~
Adrien was an idiot. A real, actual idiot.
He knew he was better than this but they contacted him. They breathily squealed about it, they begged him and begged him for it. His golden heart just couldn’t say no.
But there was more, much much more.
His father had finally let him off his leash, no more forcing him into modelling jobs. It was freeing and he was honestly excited the first few days. Unfortunately, this meant he needed to book his own jobs without his father doing it all for him.
It was hard. He needed the money, too. College wasn’t easy money anymore, even if his father was still paying for most of it, much to Adrien’s surprise.
Yes, Adrien was an idiot. A certified idiot.
~
Rushing into class at 8:06 am wasn’t Marinette’s best moment. The entire class, already seated in front of easels, graphite pencils in hand, turned their eyes on her, the teacher glaring.
Some things never change. She mused as she blushed, trying to get to her seat without too much ruckus.
She settled into her seat easily enough. She quickly opened the zip to check if Tikki was still okay before finding her pencil sets, brushes, and her sketchbok.
Marinette sighed as she stared at her blank easel, her pencil fitted comfortably in hand. The feeling of wood between her thumb and forefinger, the blank infinite paper before her, it felt like home. She never felt quite as content as she did in art class.
“Today we have a new model to sketch. Remember, students, sketch to likeness but don’t forget your own twist on the art. Art is yours, you just have to grasp it by the reigns and let it carry you away.” Her teacher breathed, lashes fluttering. She was a dramatic woman but Marinette liked her enough. She had always imagined the strict teacher that told you everything must be perfect, draw it exactly or don’t draw it at all. Her teacher was nothing like that and she appreciated it.
Marinette sighed, the barest traces of sleep still left to fog up her mind. She rearranged her pencils, her thoughts drifting to the model who was soon to walk through the door.
She lifted her pencil as the door creaked open, she stared at her blank easel and took a deep breath. Bringing models in was always helpful especially to her dreams of fashion. Human figure was focusing on details, ones that she would miss otherwise. The only problems she had was that the model was always naked.
It wouldn’t really be a problem but Marinette couldn’t help the blush that crept up her neck. Of course, everyone’s state of dress was their own business but Marinette wasn’t always comfortable with a phallus in her face. But assignments were assignments and Marinette would dutifully stare right into that phallus and sketch it as quickly as possible.
The door opened fully and she closed her eyes for a moment, steeling herself. She opened them, lifting her eyes from her paper. Her pencil clattered to the floor.
~
Adrien, for the first time in a very very long time, was nervous. No one, no one, had seen this much of him. Of course, as puberty hit, photographers tried to get as many articles of clothing off him as possible but he and his father both agreed, for once, that he should stay as clothed as he possible could. He almost grinned, what would his father say now?
He steeled himself, his hand on the doorknob. His other hand tightened on the bag he was holding, Plagg tucked safely inside. The door creaked as it opened. He avoided the students’ watchful eyes, glancing only at the teacher. All he could hear was the sound of his blood rushing past his ears. The sound of a pencil falling to the floor was the only sound that penetrated it.
The teacher, a woman of short stature and dark skin, smiled encouragingly in greeting. “Class,” she began, grabbing everyone’s attention. “This is our model for today.”
His name, she promised, would not be revealed by her. Unfortunately, his face was on enough billboards to be easily recognized by anyone in Paris.
“Once you remove your robes, just drape yourself across the seat in any comfortable way. Try not to be too stiff, relaxed muscles are harder to capture, which is something the class needs to work on, and you don’t want to strain yourself.” she smiled at him in a motherly fashion.
He exhaled, steeling himself and removing the robes, exposing his naked body to the class. The room wasn’t cold but goosebumps rose from his skin, his face, he was sure, was hopelessly red. He draped, as the teacher said, himself across the small couch, muscles relaxed. He set his bag down near him, Plagg’s soft snickers only able to be heard by him. He bit his lip and looked out at the students.
He came into contact with blue eyes, familiar ones at that. Her face was red, her eyes bright with surprise, her grip on her pencil was steel. Her hair was loose, not tucked into cute pigtails, but it was her, he was sure. You don’t spend years sitting in front of someone without being able to recognize them a few years down the road. Besides that, he had seen her flustered enough to be well acquainted with her pink cheeks and wide blue eyes. Yes, sitting directly in front of him was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.
~
Marinette didn’t usually like using swears but when Adrien Agreste’s eyes met hers, she knew she was fucked.
If her face was red with normal nude models, with Adrien her face had literally become a tomato and she was sure she’d walk around with a tomato head for the rest of her life.
Adrien, whose green eyes met hers. Adrien, who was blushing profusely. Adrien, who was completely naked.
The worst part was that he just kept staring at her. His green eyes, as wide and panicked as he was, were trained on her like it was his job.
Her perfectly sharpened 2H pencil snapped as she realized she had been pressing too hard on the paper. She was staring back at him, complete shock written like a tattoo across her face.
Why is Adrien Agreste here of all places? Why does god hate me? Oh. Alya would have fun with this piece of information.
Sharpening her pencil quickly, relieved to avert her eyes from his, she set out to sketching. Her hand, she realized, remembered her mindless sketching of him in class. But that boy was not this boy. Surely she would have noticed the strong jaw, the high cheekbones, the abs. Adrien Agreste had always been beautiful but now...
She couldn’t recall, she realized as she stopped her sketching, the last time she had seen him in person. Graduation party, maybe? Those times in the summer when Alya dragged her along into hangout sessions with Nino and Adrien?
Shaking her head, she glanced up at him, having to meet those summery eyes again. She couldn’t believe she had to endure this.
In a few quick strokes, she had drawn the quick outline of his limbs along with the shape of his face. There was one organ missing but she was sure she could wait to draw it in, during the details in a few moments. She sighed, touching her face to inconspicuously check the level of heat that lingered there.
This would be a long class.
~
He was supposed to look straight and not move. That’s what Adrien was told. But of course, the world hated him and it was Marinette who was seated in his direct line of sight.
He never minded Marinette, she was fun to hang out with when she wasn’t stammering or turning into a puddle. She was very shy, sometimes it was cute, he wouldn’t lie, but it was also painful.
She had always been pretty comfortable with everyone else. She brought them little gifts on their birthdays, she was still quiet and shy, of course, but less so. She hadn’t gotten him a gift one year, he remembered. He also remembered that Chloe never got a gift. He had hoped it wasn’t for the same reason.
But here was shy, sweet, quiet Marinette, sitting right in front of his staff. It was worse when she looked up from her drawing to stare at him again.
Of course, it was with an artist’s eye, nothing really sexual about it. Then again, he couldn’t imagine anything sexual coming from Marinette.
He chided himself, first of all, they were both older now. They were no longer 14 year olds cringing at a diagram of a uterus in health class. They both had matured into adults and sex was… a reality…? Anyway, second of all, Marinette’s sex life was none of Adrien’s business and just the thought of it stained his cheeks red. As if they weren’t already.
As his thoughts drifted, distracting him from Marinette’s gaze, he realized how tired he was. He smiled, remembering why exactly he had stayed up late and who exactly had him up that late.
An akuma attack had struck in the middle of the night. Ladybug had pinged him. It woke him up from his slumber because it was his lady and he was at her beck and call. It didn’t take long to transform and meet her, the most time was spent coaxing Plagg out of his sleep with the promise of his eternal favorite, camembert.
“Good evening, my lady.” he had bowed, eyebrows waggling.
She snorted. “There’s an akuma rampaging down at the park.” she said by way of greeting.
“Any idea what happened at 1 am to piss off someone that much?” he grinned.
She looked beautiful. The Parisian lights shut off moments ago, conservation and all that. But the stars lit her blue eyes and her dark hair blew back in the light wind of the night. He sighed now, as he remembered it. She had looked tired too. Dark circles weren’t visible as their masks covered them but the sleepiness in her eyes was nothing to be concealed.
Being with her still excited him, after all these years. She was exciting and beautiful and his friend. His lady. How many years was it now? 7? 8? He had sighed, 8 years of fighting akuma at her side.
Of course, Hawkmoth still hadn’t given up. In fact, now akumas were more frequent. He must have more time on his hands. Chat Noir thought.
“-Chat?” Ladybug shoved him. There was no aggression, of course. Her eyes were bright with humor and bare traces of annoyance.
“Sorry, my lady, I was too lost in your eyes to hear.” he smirked.
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what happened but we should probably get there soon before anyone gets hurt.”
He nodded before breaking out into a grin. “I’ll race you.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “The park isn’t that far.”
He shrugged.
“What’s in it for me?” she smiled.
Oh. She’s in a good mood. “I’ll kiss you if you win.” he winked.
“That’s more for you than for me, I’m sure. If I win, no cat puns for this entire meetup. If I am anywhere in your voice range, no cat puns.” she smirked.
He gasped, a hand pressed to his chest, mocking being hurt. “You wound me, my lady, I thought you loved my puns. Alright, if I win, then I get to kiss you. Only if you’re comfortable with that, of course.” he added it as an afterthought. Kissing her against her will didn’t sound at all fun or exciting. It just sounded very… manipulative.
She thought it over, her eyes turned to the direction of the park as if she could see the akuma. “You’re on.” she said before swinging away with the help of her yoyo, leaving him in the dust.
He had laughed, shooting after her. She may be able to swing but he could run. He leaped over buildings, dodged obstacles, and was nearly hit in the face with bird poop before he caught up to her. The park in his line of sight, he pole vaulted himself, winking at her as he shot past.
He got there first, delighted to see she wasn’t too upset about it.
“So when do I get my kiss, my lady?” he purred.
“After we get rid of this akuma, you dumb cat.” she rolled her eyes at him. He grinned.
Moments passed, both of them leaping onto the akuma. One cataclysm and one lucky charm later, the akuma was cleansed along with the rebuilding of what it had damaged.
Their miraculouses beeping insistently, he had grabbed her as she bid the butterfly goodbye. He had kissed her. She had kissed him back. It was only a moment but it was one he had already looked back on multiple times in the past seven hours.
Returning to the present, he sighed. Ladybug had become more and more affectionate, for lack of a better term, with him. She laughed with him, rolled her eyes at his puns, touched him in the form of gentle shoves or careful brushes of her fingertips.
He sighed as his thoughts returned to Marinette, who was looking at him oddly. His memory of Ladybug made Chat Noir resurface as he grinned at her, blushingly of course, for that little Adrien flare.
She, unsurprisingly, blushed. Hard. But she smiled at him timidly. His heart warmed at the gesture.
~
Marinette had to stare at him, she told herself. How else was she supposed to draw him properly.
She was content with the way she’d drawn the features of his face, which was a first. Lots of firsts today, she mused.
She cringed, she had drawn in the details of everything shoulders up. She was headed into dangerous territory, chest territory. Blush spread across her face as she looked up at him, not meeting his eyes but glancing at his chest.
He was literally draped across the couch in a modern image of classic art. His back was pressed against the cushion, one arm behind his head, the other at his side. His head was tilted to the left, his hair falling into his eyes. His legs were open, both bent, one knee in the air the other on its side. He was all muscles and sharp edges. Again, she was fucked.
She tried to capture every groove of his skin as quickly as possible but it was hard. This would have to be her worst drawing ever which was a shame, really.
Moments passed, her pencil scratching the paper in quick strokes until she was sure she’d captured enough. Skipping over the one organ, she was denying its existence for now, she carefully sketched in the hard muscles of his legs. She could feel the intensity of his stare, making her blush harder.
It was time for the dreaded, well, penis. Marinette closed her eyes, pressing her forehead to the easel and taking deep breaths.
~
It was awful, feeling her blue gaze on his exposed body.
It had started with a quick glance of his whole form and then shifted to her eyes locking with his for a very long time. He had to strain to keep his face from twitching or moving. Moments had passed until her eyes shifted to his chest, his arms, his shoulders. Skipping over his deep-v diver, her eyes were at his legs.
Currently, Marinette was taking deep breaths, her head pressed against her paper. Oh no.
He knew what was coming and he prayed to every god that has ever existed that his excalibur would behave. His heart started racing in his chest and he decided that this was officially the worst day of his life. A shame, really, since the first few hours were really nice.
He steeled himself, his fists clenching momentarily before the eyes that held the entire sky in them turned to his face. She was blushing, the smattering of freckles across her face disappearing. An apology in her eyes, they lowered to his groin.
He had to squeeze his eyes shut and force it not to twitch or harden or do anything stupid. Because this was Marinette, Marinette who was sweet and kind and lovely and did not need to see his penis.
He got breaks from her gaze when it turned back to her paper to sketch momentarily before returning to him.
It was moments of agony.
He was pretty sure the only other people who had seen his flesh tower were his mother (probably), his father (probably), and Plagg on multiple, awkward occasions.
He had just never had time for a girlfriend serious enough to get there. There were girls of course, mostly models. They were nice enough but his heart belonged to his lady and nothing could change that.
“Alright, class we’ll continue with this model next class. Seeing as you all have mostly completed your drawings but haven’t moved on to painting, we’ll start that next class. Dismissed.” the teacher, who was seated in a desk by the door, called.
The students sighed, putting their pencils down. A warm chatter rose from the side of the room. Marinette dropped her pencils into their cases and picked up her sketchbook before closing it.
Adrien immediately relieved his position, surprised to see his muscles stiff as he slipped the robe back on. Sending the teacher a brief smile, he went back into the room in which he had undressed earlier and redressed. Running a hand through his hair, he checked for Plagg.
“So how’d it go?” Plagg snickered.
He sighed. “Marinette was in the class.” he whispered.
Plagg choked on his cheese. “Marinette? As in the girl who could never finish a sentence around you? That Marinette?”
Adrien rolled his eyes before nodding.
Plagg laughed, loud, overly dramatic laughter.
“Shut up, Plagg.” he closed the pocket, Plagg’s laughter still faintly able to be heard.
~
Marinette was relieved that the class was over. Well she was until Adrien came out of the dressing room and headed straight for her.
There were enough girls in the class who, well, had eyes. Every single one of them watched his every move, blushes and whispers scattered across the room.
But Adrien didn’t even spare them a glance. He walked right up to her seat, towering over her with a small smile and a light blush. She flushed.
“Hi, Marinette.” he said kindly.
“H-Hi.” she stood up hastily, his chin banged against her head. “Sorry, sorry!”
He chuckled, rubbing his chin. “I’m fine. How are you?”
“Your chin is a little pointy but I’m-” she paused her rambling, noticing how his eyes glittered laughingly. “I mean, I’m great. You?”
“Could be better.” he admitted.
“W-why are you here? I mean, you can be wherever you want to be but why aren’t you, um, modelling or…” she trailed off, quitting before she embarrassed herself further.
The bell rang, dismissing the students. They rose up around them and filed out the door, heading to their next classes.
“W-we should catch up sometime. Over coffee.” he smiled.
“I’m available this afternoon.” she whispered.
His smile widened. He passed her his phone. “I’m holding you to that. I’ll text you so we can figure out details if you put your number in my contacts.”
She nodded, quickly typed in her numbe and labelling her contact with her first and last name and a few heart emojis. She’d run before he noticed. Passing him his phone back, it was too late to run anyway, his hand was on her shoulder.
“Wait, I need a contact picture.” he chuckled.
She almost rolled her eyes. He was one of those people. He quickly snapped a selfie of the two of them, Marinette trying to make her smile not look intensely awkward.
“Okay bye Adrien it was nice catching up gotta go.” she ran out the door, her goodbye melting into a string of nothing.