#heyjealousy

"You only have yourself to blame for this, you know," Marinette continued in a low voice. Adrien chanced a glance up to her, only to see her peeking through the windows of a great blue door at something.

Where were they?

Before Adrien could even lift his eyes to fully examine his surroundings, a wave of nausea suddenly stirred in the pit of his stomach. He closed his eyes and bent his head down to his knees, feeling more and more cross by the minute. The pain was flooding his face, pulsating through his forehead and cheekbones and threatening to beat a nasty rhythm straight into his eyeballs. In a moment of whiny self-pity, Adrien indulged in a little game of chance.

"I didn' b'eak my nose…" he muttered into his bundle, daring Marinette to hear him. No reply came, and Adrien, sick of the jumbled words he was vomiting, blew his nose into the fabric-whatever Marinette had given him. The pain made him cry out in a pitiful whine, but, hopefully, despite the retch-worthy pain he had just endured, his voice would at least sound more…intelligible.

"Excuse you?"

Adrien froze.

…he really had thought he had said it quietly enough.

There comes a time in every young man's life when he questions the purpose of his life and the role he has in the universe. 'Who am I, really?' he might ask. 'Have I made my mark on the world?' might be something else that would cross his mind.

'I'm dead before I even lived,' though unusual, wasn't unheard of…because Adrien was mumbling it to himself. Just now.

In fact, it was the only coherent thought running through his mind at the moment.

She's going to kill me, and I totally deserve it.

Adrien gave a start when he felt a gentle – though quite, quite firm – pull on his hair. His head was forced upward, and he hated how vulnerable he felt in this moment, mostly from not being able to close his mouth to purse his lips. Marinette, whose fingers were currently curled securely in his hair (man had he imagined this moment! Although, a little differently, he'd have to admit), was now crouched in front of him, eyes skimming over his face. The look she had was, at first, just short of frightening; curled lip, furrowed brows, flushed face…it was a look he knew well, just…behind the mask. Toward Chat. When he did something really, really stupid.

(For some reason, Adrien was a little relieved that she didn't wholly reserve her "I'm so incredibly done with you" face for just Chat.)

As Adrien sat statuesque in front of Ladyb-Marinette, he watched the girl's terrorizing visage morph into something a little softer, her eyes that held a fervent fire fading into a gentle frown. He flinched when she reached up to touch his nose, but didn't pull away. He trusted her too much to think she would hurt him. Well, hurt him again.

"Do you think it's broken?" Marinette asked, grimacing.

Adrien gave her a flat look. "It's squooshed. You squooshed it."

Marinette was red, and not just on her cheeks. Her neck, ears, and even a bit of her chest were stained in the color. A 'tsk' sound left her, and she moved to sit on the (…stairs. They were definitely on stairs) step next to Adrien, facing away from him.

"It's not like you didn't deserve it," she huffed out.

Adrien's frustration at the whole stupid situation started to rise. His father was going to hear about this, and not in the 'My Daddy's the Mayor' or 'I've got a rich Daddy in the Ministry of Magic' way, but in a 'You'll never be allowed out of the house ever, ever, ever, ever – do you HEAR ME, ADRIEN!? – EVER' way.

Why did it have to be the face!?

"My nose, Marinette! My. NOSE!"

"It's not like I meant to!" she whisper-shouted back at him, turning to face him. "And for goodness' sake, keep your voice down!"

"Didn't mean to - !? Marinette." Adrien pulled the fabric all the way down from his face and Marinette visibly flinched. "I kinda think this was a little straight-on for someone who – " he pulled his hands into the air between them, one hand clutching the bloodied mass still, and raised his fingers for air-quotes – "'didn't mean to'."

This time, Marinette was the one to give Adrien an unimpressed look. "I meant I didn't do it on purpose! It was just a…reaction! A reflex!"

Adrien snorted. "You're going to blame this on 'being Ladybug' now? Please. As if you didn't just gloat about 'self-control' just the other night, after I – " Adrien suddenly stopped. The memory suddenly flooded his brain, a grin growing on his face and his mood lightening significantly from the mental picture show playing in his brain:

Chat dropped down suddenly, pouncing on top of Ladybug before she could get away.

"Chat!" she squealed, laughter catching the edge of her exclamation in just the way Chat loved. "What're you – ? AARRGGGHHH STTTAAAHHHPP!"

But Chat Noir didn't stop. He continued to rub his forehead and cheek all over Ladybug, any inch he could reach, before she kicked him in the gut. He was okay with that, though; the deed had already been done…and she smelled wonderful.

"After I scent-marked you."

If Adrien had been looking – instead of dazedly daydreaming – maybe he would have thought about the crap coming out of his mouth before it spilled out. Marinette's sickly expression of absolute horror and distaste stayed a safe secret, however, Adrien blissfully ignorant while lost in the joy this particular recollection awarded him.

"Y-You…you're…?" Marinette took in a deep, rattling breath. "I…. T-T-That's what you were doing!?"

Without warning, a petite fist came down on Adrien's arm, making him yelp in surprise. He tried to wave Marinette and her fists of fury away – hadn't he been hurt enough already? – but as his arm came out to flail at the abuser, Adrien felt nothing but air touching his fingertips. That's when he realized the heavy stomping up the stairs must belong to Marinette.

"I can't believe this...!" she was saying to herself in a rather loud rumble of a voice. "How is this my life? Who does – who does he think he is!? What did I – UGH!"

A door slammed somewhere, and the entire stairway shook with the force of it.

Adrien's eyes started to feel heavy once more, relaxed as he now was after thinking about Ladybug. Leaning against the wall of the stairway, he smiled to himself, and thought about how a cat-nap right now sounded like the purr-fect –

"Oh man, Adrien!" Plagg's scritch-scratchy voice suddenly hissed merrily right into Adrien's ear. The boy gave a start, but Plagg paid him no heed. "What were you thinking? Usually I can tell when someone's about to make a bad decision, but for the first time in centuries, you actually took me by surprise! Haha!" Plagg zoomed in circles around the stairway as if unable to contain his amusement. The grin never left his face…and neither did the mischievous glint that Adrien found so often in his tiny eyes.

What the…?

Adrien sat up a little taller. If Plagg was this happy – especially with something Adrien had done, and apparently had done recently – something must be terribly wrong. 'Bad decision'? Instantly, Adrien replayed everything that had just happened. Somehow, he'd made Ladybug – no, wait, Marinette – angry at him…but that could be from anything! If she had figured out just one thing about Adrien, or what he knew – beyond what had happened in plain sight right in front of her – she would be ticked. But she hadn't, had she? Maybe she was just ornery about the "gloat" comment…but really, she totally deserved it! He'd wanted to get back at her ever since she'd said that at the top of the Trocodero, and now –

OH GREAT MAMA SASSAFRASSIN' CHEESE CORN.

Adrien buried his face in his cloth once more, a great groan rattling his hands through the fabric.

Plagg, who seemed to have been just waiting for this moment, exploded in pent-up glee.

"Realized – HAHAHA! I can't even – HAHAHA! I can't – I can't even say it!" Plagg's laughter rang loud in Adrien's head, the force matching the throbbing of the blood rushing into his ears perfectly, igniting an entirely new cacophonous mess of mental agony. "R-Realized what you said, did you!?" The black cat had now landed on the floor on his back, his little paws clutching his stomach and feet waving around in unadulterated mirth.

"Plagg…Chat Noir doesn't have a 'become one with the shadows' ability, does he?"

Plagg, helpful as ever, only laughed harder.

Adrien was growing irritated. "Plagg, would you shut up!? You're going to wake the neighbors! Or someone else is going to see you and –"

"Yeah, it's too late for that," another voice said.

Adrien whipped around so fast, his vision tunneled immediately. There was a shuffling of feet – very Marinette-like feet, and Adrien felt the slip of the hand on his sleeve. The collective force of this latest debacle caused Adrien's rumpus to slide off the stair…and his consciousness to slide from the cognizant world.

"Realized what you said, have you?" Marinette echoed Plagg's words from before. If words had a taste, these would have come with extra spice.

Adrien, effectively hiding his entire face behind the cloth she'd given him except for what he was sure were huge, shocked eyes, only nodded. Marinette sighed, reaching into the small basket she had brought with her to pull out some medical supplies. She reached up and tried to pull his hands down gently…but Adrien, who was still not sure if he was actually passed out in some alley somewhere, under an Akuma's influence, or – scariest of all – actually sitting on the stairs with Maribug who was not impressed by Adrichat, reflexively leaned away from her outstretched fingers. She gave him a look, then tried again…with the same result. After the third time, she smacked her own leg in frustration.

"Adrien Agreste!" she whisper-yelled through slightly-clenched teeth. "You have given me – and a lot of other people – so much crap tonight, and I am presently not in the mood to play these games with you, so you had better lower your hands right now so we can clean up your bloodied face!"

Ten minutes later, Adrien was leaning against the wall of the stairwell, pouting, Marinette leaning over him with one arm across his chest to hold him down, and the other arm gently working at cleaning his face. Both teens were panting heavily, beads of sweat from sheer exertion trickling down their faces.

"You owe me an entire roll of medical tape now," Marinette said quietly, in between winded breaths, not looking away from what she was doing. "You know that, right?"

Adrien only narrowed his eyes at her, but he didn't pull at the make-shift bindings tying his wrists to the banister. That tape crap was strong, and, while they both know he probably could break it if he tried hard enough, Adrien just didn't have the gusto in him anymore, not after the day he had, and definitely not after the impromptu wrestling match he'd just endured with Marinette when she manhandled him into this position.

Marinette only rolled her eyes again and sighed…though the small twitch at the corners of her lips told Adrien she wasn't really that mad. Angry or not, though, she still deserved to hear something he needed to say.

"I'm sorry."

Marinette stopped what she was doing and looked down at Adrien, surprise at his admission clear on her face.

"For what?" she responded, returning to what she was doing, though now small glances at him interspersed with minding the task that busied her nurturing hands.

Adrien let out a long breath. "Everything?"

A silent beat.

"Wanna be a little more specific?" Marinette finally responded, pursing her lips.

"Not…really."

She snorted. A few quiet moments passed, then Marinette sighed heavily. She dropped her hands down in front of her and turned her full attention on Adrien.

"So…um, h-how long have you known?" she asked quietly, biting her lip.

"About what?"

"About…well, about me being Ladybug."

Adrien hummed in understanding, shifting awkwardly to reposition his aching hide-quarters on his stair. The movement caught Marinette's attention. Suddenly, as if she hadn't even noticed her dastardly deed of tying him up in the first place, Marinette reached into her basket and pulled out some medical scissors. A few snips later and Adrien's hands broke free of their bindings. He sat up straighter, making himself more level with Marinette, who was perched on the stair above his own, her legs draped over his (to keep him from literally kicking and screaming) and feet on the next stair down. Adrien started working on pulling the wads of bandages-turned-tie-downs off his fingers. A ginger touch on his nose brought his eyes back to Marinette.

A very close Marinette.

A close-enough-Adrien-had-to-do-a-little-double-take Marinette.

"Today," Adrien breathed out. He found himself unable to tear his eyes away from her face…and he really didn't mind that at all.

"Hm?" Marinette responded quietly, licking her lips.

"I-I-I'd only known today. About, uh, you. Being Ladybug."

She looked crestfallen for a second, then confused, the emotions passing on her face so quickly and so up close, Adrien was sure he was getting dizzy from it.

"What gave me away?"

Adrien tried to smirk, but his lips were refusing to follow orders.

(They had something else on their mind…and it had nothing to do with talking, but everything to do with the girl sitting incredibly too close in front of him.)

"Um…" Adrien cleared his throat, hoping Marinette ignored that little voice crack. "You see, M'Lady, when a guy gets called a name by a girl he likes, he doesn't easily forget it…especially when she's…er…dressed up as him." He could see the confusion melt into embarrassed understanding in Marinette's eyes, and couldn't resist adding on, "I still think cat ears would've made your outfit purr-fect."

The effect was immediate. It was one of the main reasons Adrien – as Chat Noir – never cut out the puns, no matter how much Ladybug harassed him about them. But it was his calling-card, in a way; the association between puns to Chat Noir was seamless. So, at the sound of one of his signature lines in the tension-filled atmosphere, Marinette, to his immediate delight, snorted, lips twisting upward with the action. The light in her eyes, as she fixed them on his face, danced merrily in the dimming lights, the crinkles at the edges from her accompanying smile clear evidence of the honest merriment she must be feeling.

But…as quickly as it had come, the smile slid off her face.

"Adrien," she started quietly, "was it…was it true?"

"Was what true, Mar?"

She sighed heavily, eyes closing for a moment. When she opened them again, Adrien was alarmed by the moisture building there.

"What…what Luka said about, um, about you…" – her breath in and out was rattling – "…and me."

A beat passed. Marinette seemed to be holding her breath.

"Yes," Adrien answered quietly.

Marinette's hands clenched into fists on her lap.

"It was?" Her voice was so small, Adrien almost cried on the spot.

"Yeah, Mar…it was." Tentatively, Adrien lifted a now bandage-free hand to her face, hoping, despite this crap-filled day and his stupid actions, he could show her some sincerity, that something real was growing here. "And then? Then I had to spend an entire week worrying over why it was the way it was between us – Adrien and Marinette, that is – and then why it even mattered to me if Luka liked you or not." He took a deep breath. "And then I had to watch you today – which, admittedly, had some parts I definitely don't regret seeing…." He smiled when she shook her head at him, a laugh and a blush brightening her already glistening eyes. As her cheeks pulled up into a real smile once again, the force pushed against the fullness there and forced a tear to slide down her cheek. Adrien immediately thumbed it away, but just the feel of it, the reason that it was there in the first place, caused his heart to ache. He could feel the wetness pushing into his own eyes, the burning in his throat telling him it wouldn't be long before he wouldn't be able to hold in the emotion much longer.

"But…" he continued after they collected themselves for a moment, "I also had to watch you with…with Luka. And tell myself that I didn't deserve to even feel jealous." The reality of it was starting to hit him more and more. "And then – then you said…you said 'Beetlebug' and I – "

He couldn't stop it now. Adrien could only turn his betraying eyes away, pull his hand away, wish His Lady to look away, when the first sob broke through the surface. The pain throbbed and burned in his nose, matching the anguish grating on the walls of his heart. He didn't deserve her…never had, and, likely, never would.

But oh, did he want her.

In the depths of his despairing realizations and the heaviness these thoughts pressed on his heart, Adrien felt a pressure on his face. Blinking and sniffing and just all-around wrecked, Adrien couldn't bring himself to meet Marinette's gaze. Marinette, though, didn't press him. Instead, her thin fingers left his face and wrapped around his knees to scooched his legs over into a more comfortable position, one where she could sit comfortably next to him. As her warmth met his side, Adrien, who was still averting his eyes, jumped when her small hands clasped onto his own.

The feeling that had course through him, burning through his veins and pushing him to prove himself, to win, finally formed itself into words. Words that he had to speak out loud; else, as they died on his lips, his heart would die with them. Slowly, fearfully, Adrien turned his head to Marinette, meeting her red-rimmed eyes with his own.

"I thought I lost you both."

Though the words themselves burned his throat in painful emotion, Adrien didn't get another chance to cry. With the force that made Ladybug Ladybug, Marinette abandoned his hands on his lap, reached up, and pulled Adrien's lips to her own.

There was still a lot to say…but it seemed as if neither one cared for more words.

Though Adrien was, perhaps, less experienced than his partner in this particular pair-practice, he was eager to learn…and Marinette seemed to be his perfect teacher. The first touch was a brush of lips, the sensation like a concert master playing the perfect pitch to which the orchestra would tune; the sensation, all at once soft and strong and beautiful, broke as fast as it came, but the feeling continued resonating unrelentingly in the chambers of Adrien's heart, filling him with desire and want and need and…something else. There was a word for it – always had been – and, while Adrien had used it millions of times in his own mind when thinking about Ladybug, he realized – now – how stupidly naïve he had been in its definition.

Eagerness and passion pushed them into the next kiss…and the next. Adrien was drinking her in, reveling in the shockwaves her hands gave him. Without even feeling the need to ask, Adrien laced his fingers in her hair, behind her petite ears and their precious gems, pulling her in at a better angle (all while being extremely mindful of his nose). She sighed, and he breathed it – her – in; it was intoxicating, a drug he could devour endlessly. Lips moved a little more hungrily now – starving souls consuming their heart's desire. Her lips opened and closed in tantalizing circles against his own, and that feeling pushed through his chest harder now. His heart raced frantically. He had to tell her. He'd waited so long, and so had she. And he…he couldn't keep this from her – from them both – any longer.

A heady suctioning sound as they broke apart kept them connecting over and over again for a moment longer than Adrien intended…and he was almost sucked back in to try to define the exact taste and texture of her lips. But, Adrien was stubborn where he felt a need. Pursing his lips – and trying really hard to ignore the feel of her breath on his face – Adrien pulled away from Marinette long enough to mutter the words that had been begging for an out since the day Adrien had met his Ladybug.

His Marinette.

"I lub doo."

Adrien blinked...then groaned. So much for a momentous magical moment.

Marinette giggled, only adding to the embarrassment that was a broken nose confession. With a groan, Adrien pushed his reddening forehead into the crook of Marinette's neck to hide his shame.

"Oh, Minou…" Marinette sighed into his hair. "I lub doo too."

Fin!