#jorael

..0..

The Agreste mansion is bustling with more activity than it probably has in a very long time — Marinette remembers how cold and empty it had been the last time she was there as Ladybug.

It seems everyone is celebrating another successful akuma takedown on top of Christmas as they chat in the foyer and munch on the various foods that Nathalie had somehow acquired for the night.

Marinette scans the room until her eyes land on Adrien. He’s laughing with Nino, Rose, and Juleka, and he looks so happy that she can’t help the grin that plants itself on her own face. She thinks that’s the one thing she’ll be celebrating tonight: Adrien’s happiness.

Adrien catches her eye and his smile grows, if that was even possible. Marinette blushes, realizing he’s just caught her staring at him. It gets worse when he’s suddenly making his way through the crowd until he’s standing directly in front of her.

“Merry Christmas, Marinette,” he greets her warmly.

She twists her hands nervously in front of her. “M-Merry Christmas, Adrien.”

“Thank you for your present, by the way. It was really nice.”

Marinette beams. “You’re welcome. I…I’m glad you like it.”

“But,” he clears his throat, suddenly looking guilty, “I kind of gave it to Santa and then he got akumatized and I think the hat got destroyed when Chat Noir and Ladybug defeated the akuma. I’m really sorry.”

He looks so sad and apologetic, and Marinette rushes to reassure him. “Oh no, it’s okay, really! I can make you a new one.”

Adrien widens his eyes. “You don’t have to do that!”

“I want to,” she insists.

He opens his mouth, about to reply, when Alya’s voice cuts through the chatter. “Hey, you two! Look up!”

Both Adrien and Marinette tilt their heads back in confusion, then Marinette squeaks when she registers what exactly is positioned above them.

Adrien chuckles. “Mistletoe. I didn’t even know we had that.”

She’s shaking by this point, too nervous to even attempt to respond to that. Mistletoe. Which means kissing. Which means she and Adrien kissing. Adrien. Her. Kiss.

A warm hand settles on her shoulder and she looks up at Adrien smiling sheepishly. “I guess we have to now, to appease this crowd.”

Only then does she realize almost everyone in the room is looking over at them, some eager (Alya, Nino, Rose), some disgusted (Chloé), some simply amused (most of the adults). Marinette doesn’t have time to react, though, because Adrien pulls her attention back to him as he leans in close. Her eyelids flutter shut and her heart pounds in her chest. This is it.

She doesn’t know whether she’s relieved or disappointed when his lips press against her cheek instead.

Adrien pulls away with such a tender look in his eyes that she practically melts on his pristine marble floor.

He smiles softly. “Merry Christmas, Marinette.”

II.

Marinette sighs dreamily as she leans against the railing and watches couples skating by, hand in hand. The Christmas tree at the center of the rink casts a dim glow on the ice, illuminating the skaters under the night sky. She knows she should be past it by now, but she can’t help imagining a date here with Adrien.

Marinette glances over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of him waiting for their skates with Nino by the rental counter. She turns back around and takes a deep breath. Today’s the day.

In the year and a half that they’ve known each other, Marinette likes to think that she and Adrien have become good friends. Sure, she still gets nervous around him sometimes, but it’s getting easier to talk to him. Which was why, somehow, by some miracle, Alya managed to convince her to finally confess.

She had refused initially, of course, not wanting to lose Adrien’s friendship now that she had it. Being friends with him was more than enough, she had told Alya. She didn’t want to ruin that by admitting her feelings — still doesn’t want to.

But she knows she has to. It’s been too long.

“Today’s the day,” Alya states, stepping up beside Marinette with a steaming cup of hot chocolate.

Marinette nods and swallows the lump in her throat.

Alya gently nudges her shoulders, smiling encouragingly. “You got this, girl.”

..0..

Marinette sips the remainder of Alya’s hot chocolate as she waits for Adrien to return with her skates. Nino had come back with his and Alya’s, informing them that the employees were still looking for Marinette’s size and Adrien offered to wait.

“We can wait until everyone has their skates,” Alya had offered, but Marinette assured them she would be fine waiting and urged them to start skating first.

She’s been watching the couple skate, biting back laughter every time she sees Nino stumble on the ice.

“What’s so funny?”

Adrien’s voice makes her jump and she turns just as he holds out her pair of skates. She hadn’t even noticed him taking a seat beside her.

She shakes her head and smiles, taking the skates from him. “Nothing. Just Nino about to fall.”

He chuckles. “Typical.”

They finish lacing up their skates in silence, then Adrien practically hops to his feet, with a grace Marinette can only envy. He holds a hand out to help her up. A bare hand.

Marinette realizes now is the perfect opportunity to give him her Christmas present.

“Wait! I have to give you your present,” she says, unclasping her bag to pull out the small package.

Adrien laughs. “It’s okay, Marinette. You can give it to me later.”

Marinette shakes her head, practically thrusting her gift in his face. “No, this will be useful when you’re ice skating. Trust me.”

He obliges, carefully unwrapping her gift, and smiling even wider when he sees what’s inside. “Gloves? These are perfect! Thanks, Marinette.”

Adrien quickly puts them on, bringing his now-gloved hands up to his cheeks. “Whoa, these are so soft. Did you make them yourself?”

Marinette blushes and nods, then gasps as he pulls her into a hug.

“You’re awesome, Marinette,” he murmurs, his breath tickling her ear. “Thank you again.”

This is it. This is her opportunity to confess. She has to tell him now.

Marinette pulls away, resting her hands on his shoulders. “Adrien… there’s something I have to tell you.”

He frowns, looking concerned. “What is it?”

“I–” She pauses to inhale shakily. “I–”

“Are you guys joining us or what?” Nino calls from where he and Alya are leaning on the railing.

“In a minute!” Adrien replies, then turns back to Marinette. “Sorry. What did you need to tell me?”

She sighs, knowing that the moment is over. She’s lost whatever courage she’d gathered; it will be a while before she can find it again. Marinette will confess, she promises that much to herself. Someday. Just not today.

“Just… Merry Christmas, Adrien,” she replies, plastering a smile on her face.

Adrien grins and pulls her in for another hug. “Merry Christmas, Marinette.”

III.

There have been many crazy Dupain-Cheng Christmas parties in Marinette’s lifetime, but this one might just be the craziest — if only for the fact that Chat Noir is here today.

Well, Adrien Agreste is. Who happens to be Chat Noir.

It’s been a week since they accidentally revealed their identities to each other, and Marinette sometimes still can’t believe that Adrien and Chat are the same person. Other times, she can’t believe she never saw it.

It’s also been a week since she last spoke with him — something she hopes to put an end to tonight.

Marinette moves across the living room in search of Adrien, knowing that his blond hair won’t be hard to miss among her dark-haired family. It’s been a while since their home was filled with this many people but she kind of enjoys it. It reminds her that she is surrounded and loved by so many wonderful people.

She slides into the kitchen, where Adrien is chatting with her mother, and tugs once on the sleeve of his shirt.

Adrien’s smile drops in disbelief when he sees that Marinette is the one trying to gain his attention.

She smiles sheepishly at her mother. “Sorry to interrupt, Mama, but can I borrow Adrien for a moment?”

Sabine smiles and rolls her eyes, already waving them away.

Marinette grabs his wrist, pulling a gawking Adrien up the steps to her room (and ignoring the amused glances of her relatives). She sits him on the chaise before grabbing something from her desk and plopping down next to him.

“What’s this?” Adrien asks, when she throws said “something” on his lap.

“Your gift,” she replies, omitting the “duh” evident from her tone.

He frowns. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“Adrien, of course not. Why would I be mad at you?”

“I dunno,” he shrugs, staring down at her gift to avoid looking her in the eye. “I thought maybe you were mad because we revealed our identities before either of us were ready, or… or maybe you were mad Chat Noir turned out to be me.”

“Revealing our identities was an accident. Of course I don’t blame you,” Marinette assures him. “And I am definitely not mad that you’re Chat Noir. A little surprised, maybe, but never mad.”

He doesn’t respond, still looking guilty, as if he’s done something wrong. Suddenly, Marinette feels a hundred times worse for ignoring him all week.

She scoots closer to him and places a hand over his, resting in the small space between them. “I’m sorry for avoiding you. I just… needed time to process all of it on my own.”

Adrien finally looks into her eyes and something like relief courses through her body. “And?”

“And,” she squeezes his hand, “I’m really, really glad it’s you.”

He flips his hand so that their fingers intertwine, squeezing her hand back. “I’m really glad it’s you, too.”

She knows it will take a bit more for her to fully reconcile this beautiful boy in front of her with the beautiful boy she calls her partner, but she knows she’ll get there.

Marinette coughs once, suddenly feeling warm when Adrien continues looking at her like she’s a treasure he’s just discovered. “Well… what are you waiting for? Open your present!”

Adrien blinks once, then glances down at the gift, as if he’d forgotten it was there the whole time. When he tears open the wrapping and a light blue knitted beanie falls into his lap.

“I made it blue to match your scarf,” Marinette explains, trying to gauge his reaction.

He slides the hat onto his head, and she can’t help but notice how cute he looks in it. Adrien grins. “I love it.”

She laughs. “You haven’t even seen yourself in it yet.”

“I don’t care. I love it,” he states, then pauses. “So. We’re okay, right?”

Marinette pulls him into a hug. “We are definitely okay.”

Adrien winds his arms around her waist, pulling her even closer to him. He pulls away just far enough to kiss her forehead.

She feels his lips against her skin as he whispers, “Merry Christmas, Marinette.”

IV.

If there ever is a time to be grateful for a magical, protective bodysuit, it’s times like these, when Paris is covered in a thin layer of snow, practically glowing in the city lights. It’s beautiful, especially from Marinette’s view atop the Champs d’Elysées.

And cold. Very cold.

Marinette is glad she decided to wear a scarf and earmuffs because despite its protection for the rest of her body, her suit does a poor job of protecting her face and ears against the cold. Adrien better show up soon so they can start their patrol or she might actually turn into an icicle.

As if on cue, he leaps up beside her, all smiles and bright eyes, the pink tip of his nose being the only indicator that the cold is affecting him.

“Sorry I’m late, My Lady,” he says, slowly lowering himself to sit down. Only then does Marinette notice he’s holding something in one hand. “I stopped by a shop to get us some hot chocolate.”

She eagerly takes the cup he hands her, reveling in the warmth that fills her body from just a sip. “Thanks, Adrien.”

Marinette is glad that she can call him by his real name now when they’re alone but in disguise. No more hiding, no more secrets. Just them. In the year since the Reveal, Adrien has easily become her best friend (not that she’ll ever admit that to Alya).

“You’re very welcome,” he replies, grinning over his own cup.

Warmed by the hot chocolate, Marinette decides now is the perfect time to give him his present. He’s already in a good mood; she knows this will make it even better.

Adrien raises his eyebrows when she places the gift on his lap. “I thought we were doing our present exchange after patrol.”

“You can still give me mine later,” she assures him. “I just want you to open yours right now.”

He purses his lips, as if to argue, but obliges anyway, pulling the wrapping paper back to find two cat eyes staring back at him.

“You said you’d always wanted an ugly Christmas sweater,” Marinette explains as he holds the red sweater in front of him. A giant head of a black cat in a Santa hat stares back. “So I made you one.”

Adrien shifts his gaze from the sweater to her, and she swears she sees stars in his eyes. “This is literally the greatest gift I have ever gotten — ever.”

She grins. “Check out the back too.”

He flips the sweater over. On the back reads “Meow-ry Christmas!” in bold, white letters.

Adrien surges forward to hug her, so fast that they almost topple over. When he pulls away, his grin reaches his eyes. “I love you. You’re actually the best, Mari.”

Marinette blushes at his words, though she knows he doesn’t mean it that way. Not that she should even care anymore; she’s moved past those feelings.

He hurriedly pulls on the sweater, laughing when it fits snugly against his torso.

He always does this, she notices. Always wears her presents immediately, like he can’t wait any longer to wear it, like he never wants to wear anything else but that ever again. The thought warms her more than hot chocolate ever will.

Adrien keeps the sweater on during their patrol, his smile so contagious it makes Marinette grin the whole time too. When it’s time for them to go home, he grins goofily at her while rubbing the cat on his sweater. She giggles at how ridiculous he looks and he winks.

“Thanks again, Mari. Really.”

Marinette stops her train of thought before it can start. Because that look he’s giving her, that look — the way his eyes soften even with the mask on, the way his smile is much gentler, much more Adrien than Chat — she can’t allow herself to think it’s any more than his gratitude.

He pulls her into another quick embrace, though her touch lingers on him just a bit longer when he pulls away. Well, shit. She sighs. Marinette Dupain-Cheng has definitely not moved on from Adrien Agreste.

Adrien leaps onto the parapet and turns to smile at her before he leaps across the rooftops toward home. He calls back one last time before he can get too far: “Merry Christmas, Marinette!”

V.

“I don’t get how that was a romantic comedy.”

Adrien sputters, nearly spitting out his fried rice. “Um, this is a classic Christmas rom-com.”

“Well, half of those relationships didn’t even work out,” Marinette argues, pointing her chopsticks at the rolling credits. “One guy is basically cheating on his wife!”

He tsks. “Didn’t the other storylines make up for it though? Don’t you still feel the Christmas spirit?”

“I guess…” Marinette wrinkles her nose. “I don’t get Americans.”

“This movie is British.”

She waves his comment off, setting her plate on the coffee table and leaning back on the couch. “Same difference.”

Adrien chuckles as he stands up to clear his plate, taking Marinette’s with him. She’s too full to stand up and help him — he always refuses her help anyway. Besides, she needs to grab his present so it’s ready when he comes back.

Marinette pulls the large box from under the couch — no wrapping this year, just a neatly tied bow. She places it on her lap and sighs. This is her pride and joy, and of all the presents she’s given Adrien, this is probably the one she’s most proud of.

When he returns from the kitchen, she merely holds out the box in greeting.

Adrien pouts. “Aw man, Mari. I haven’t even gone out to get yours yet.”

She practically bounces in her seat. “I don’t care. Just open this!”

He sits down beside her and Marinette immediately slides the box over to his lap. Adrien carefully unties the bow and opens the box, pulling tissue paper away to reveal—

“Mari…,” Adrien whispers in awe, eyes widening as he pulls her gift out of the box.

It’s a coat. The coat. The one she’s been working on for weeks, designing and crafting and perfecting.

“I had to make it for a project at school, and from the start, I dunno, I just thought it was perfect for you,” she explains as he stands up to try it on.

“It is. It’s perfect.” He grins, buttoning up the black coat. “You really outdid yourself this time, Princess.”

Marinette blushes at his praise. Although she’s heard it from so many other sources, hearing it from him — the person receiving it, Adrien — is different somehow.

Adrien does a twirl then strikes a very Chat Noir-esque pose, turning his head to smirk at her. “How do I look?”

“Like a dork,” she replies immediately, smiling all the same. Marinette wants to be exasperated, but all she can feel is warm affection for his ridiculous antics.

It’s taken months for her to fully grasp the concept, but she knows now that she is absolutely, undeniably in love with Adrien Agreste — the same gentle, beautiful boy she had a crush on, but also her dork of a best friend.

“Adrien?”

She loves him. She wants to tell him.

He lifts his head to look at her, pausing in unbuttoning his coat.

She can’t.

Even now, when he’s frowning in confusion, there’s warmth in his eyes and he’s looking at her like she’s the best thing to happen to him. But he’s never given any indication that he wants anything more than her friendship, and she doesn’t want to get hurt, doesn’t want to lose him.

So she can’t tell him. Not yet.

“Merry Christmas,” she says instead, smiling tiredly.

Adrien beams and practically tackles her into the couch, still wearing his coat. He plants a sloppy kiss on her cheek that makes her giggle.

“Merry Christmas, Marinette.”

I.

Marinette is late.

Not that that’s anything new for her, but she’s already bailed on Adrien so many times because of school. She doesn’t want to disappoint him yet again.

She’s breathless by the time she inserts her key and bursts through his front door (they’d given each other keys to their apartments just a month before). Adrien is lounging on his couch, playing with his new kitten, Camembert.

“Sorry!” Marinette exclaims, still trying to catch her breath. “I got caught up at school again. I’m so sorry I’m late.”

Adrien languidly gets to his feet, grinning. “You’re right on time. I gave you an earlier time because I knew you’d come an hour late.”

Marinette’s jaw drops. “I can’t believe you!”

He laughs as he dodges the purse she throws. “Hey, now we have just the right amount of time to spend at the fair.”

“I hate you,” she hisses, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes at him.

Adrien merely smiles and ambles up to her, planting a kiss on the crown of her head. “Sit, please. I have to give you your present.”

Marinette shuffles to his couch and sits with a huff, when she remembers that she has no gift for him.

“Shit!”

“Language!” Adrien calls out from his bedroom, then emerges with a thin, black box in his hand.

She’s panicking now as it hits her that this is the first time in six years that she doesn’t have a gift for Adrien.

Adrien sits down beside her and hands her the box. “Merry Christmas, Marinette.”

She opens the box after he urges her to, and inside rests a beautiful bracelet with a single diamond cat charm.

“Adrien…”

“It’s to match your necklace,” he explains.

She instinctively reaches up to touch the diamond ladybug charm resting on her collarbone, Adrien’s gift to her last year. Now she feels even worse for not having a gift.

“Adrien, I’m sorry. I don’t have a gift for you,” Marinette admits, closing the jewelry box. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been so busy with this runway show, so I haven’t had any time to make you anything, and I didn’t want to buy you something because I’ve always made your gifts, and now Christmas is two days away and I have nothing and—”

Adrien cuts off her rambling with a hand on her shoulder. “Mari, it’s okay, really.”

“But—”

He shakes his head. “You don’t have to get me anything. Your past gifts were worth, like, two gifts each so I’d say I have more than enough.”

She exhales. “Okay.”

“Besides,” he continues, slinging an arm across her shoulders, “finally getting to hang out with you today was all I wanted.”

His words and the smile on his face make her insides melt to the floor.

God, she loves him so much.

Adrien then suggests they leave for the Christmas fair before they really are late. She slides on the bracelet and they walk the few blocks to the street fair.

It’s beautifully decorated, with lights strung between the kiosks and booths lining each side of the street. Kids — and many adults — giddily make their way from booth to booth, admiring knick-knacks, indulging in food, and playing games. The Christmas spirit is so heavy in the air that Marinette stops for a moment, just to breathe it in.

She and Adrien wander throughout the fair for a while, trying food and drinks, buying the occasional knick-knack. They each grab a hot chocolate before resting on a bench in a quieter section of the fair.

Marinette observes the fair-goers while Adrien appears to be mulling over something in his head. She knows he’ll talk when he’s ready, and she’s content with sitting in silence for a while anyway.

Eventually, Adrien breaks the silence.

“Mari… I have to tell you something.”

“Hm?” she responds absently, taking another sip of hot chocolate.

“I–you–you know you’re my best friend, right?” It all comes out in a rush.

She grins at him. “Of course.”

Adrien groans in frustration, putting his head in his hands. “That’s not what I’m trying to say. Ugh. Why is this so hard?”

Marinette thinks he’s talking more to himself, so she remains quiet, still sipping her hot chocolate.

He takes a deep breath, and sits back up to look her in the eye. Then: “Marinette, I love you. As in, I’m in love with you.”

She chokes on her drink, launching into a coughing fit as Adrien rubs her back and apologizes profusely.

“Y-y-you love me?” she practically squeaks.

“I don’t expect you to say anything back!” he replies almost frantically. “I just… wanted you to know because I’ve felt this way for… a really long time, and I’ve been too scared to say it until now.”

Marinette takes a deep breath, forcing her heartbeat to calm down. Then she chuckles. Once, twice, until she’s bent over laughing uncontrollably. Adrien only looks at her in concern. He must think she’s crazy. Or worse, laughing at him.

When she calms down, there are tears in her eyes but she realizes they’re not just from laughing. She’s crying.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wished for you to say those words,” she says softly, a tear sliding down her cheek. Adrien brushes it away with his thumb. “I love you, Adrien. I’ve loved you for a very long time too.”

Now it’s Adrien’s turn to laugh and he pulls her close until their foreheads touch and she can feel his breath against her lips

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, his eyes crinkling in the corners from how much he’s smiling

She responds by pressing her lips against his.

It’s a slow, soft kiss, one that speaks to Adrien’s gentle nature. He kisses her like she’s something precious and like he knows they have forever left, but his tight grip around her waist is telling of his faith in her strength, of his desperation to keep her close, always.

When they part, it’s only enough for him to murmur, “I think this is the best gift you’ve gotten me yet.”

Björn was no stranger to being woken up in the middle of the night. If it wasn't his dog wanting attention it tended to be his brother. More times than he cared to count he'd found his brother on his doorstep, drunk and rambling about something Björn never cared enough about to remember. So when Hanna – his little white dog began barking excitedly at three in the morning, Björn figured Preben was trying to break into his house once more. With a frown, Björn rolled out of bed and shuffled downstairs to see what the commotion was all about. He was right about most things – there was indeed a drunk man in his living room. The man had clearly tried to 'break' in too. But it was not his brother. Björn froze as he stared at this new intruder he did not know, who was happily sitting and playing with Hanna. He should probably call the police and report this. He should probably back out the room before the intruder saw him. He should probably do those things fast. But Björn did neither. Hanna was the first to notice him, wriggling out of the intruder's arms and running happily over to him, wagging her tail and barking happily. “Made a new friend?” Björn asked her as he bent down to pick her up. “Oh fuck me,” the intruder uttered breathlessly as he turned around and spotted Björn. “You're not Eduard...” “No,” Björn grunted. “He's next door,” he gestured to the house to the left of his. “But if you're here because you were supposed to meet him, I might refrain from reporting you.” “Ah, no need no need!” the intruder stood up from the floor, smiling sheepishly. “I couldn't tell them apart and I've had a bit too much to drink, so I can't find the keys he lent me. But the window here was open so I just kind of assumed this was his house and well here I am...” “Uh...” Björn stared. The other man had spoken so fast he'd hardly managed to catch any of it. “Your dogs is really cute. What's her name?” “Oh... Hanna,” Björn replied, a little uncertain as to why this man was still in his living room. “Hanna? How cute,” the intruder cooed, stumbling forward to pet the little dog that was now happily wagging her tail and trying to lick Björn's face. “And you are?” Björn asked a little sternly. “Oh! Wow. I forgot to introduce myself? That's awful,” the man laughed. “I'm Timo. Eduard is my cousin.” “I see...” Björn replied with a grunt. He was still debating calling the police. Although it wasn't every night he had a rather handsome man break into his house and strike up a friendly conversation, perhaps he should start leaving the window open more often? “And you?” Timo asked, and Björn realised he hadn't introduced himself either. “Björn,” he replied, still petting the dog in his arms. “That name fits you so well,” Timo whistled and yes him up and down, which made Björn want to hide behind a pillow or something. “Do you need something to drink? Water?” Björn tried to derail the conversation. “Or are you going over to Eduard's house?” “I think since you're already awake, and if you don't mind, I'll maybe just crash here?” Björn blinked and considered the option. Timo could be out to rob him, but then again; if he really was a robber he was possibly the worst one out there. Björn could smell the alcohol on his breath, and there was no way Timo could escape a police-line up if he by some chance decided to rob Björn blind. “I've got a guest room,” Bjorn replied after a while, and a wide smile spread across Timo's face. “Guest room? Oh man, sweeeet. I was thinking your sofa was good enough but a bed? Man, I love you,” he slurred the last part of the sentence, but it made Björn blush none the less. Without thinking, Björn handed Timo Hanna and gestured for him to follow. It took 15 minutes to make the bed, and another five for Timo to strip down to boxers right in front of Björn (he had to help with getting Timo's socks off, that proved a bit too tricky for the rather drunk man). Björn was surprised how quickly Timo fell asleep – snoring rather loudly, even when Hanna decided that she was going to sleep next to her new friend. Not that it mattered. Björn shrugged to himself and went back to bed.

He woke up to the smell of pancakes. For a moment Björn was utterly confused as to who was making food – last he checked he'd never taught Hanna to do that! Groggily he made his way downstairs, pausing as he found Timo in the kitchen – singing a low tune as he flipped the pancake over. “Morning?” Björn greeted somewhat hesitantly. “Morning!” Timo turned around and flashed him a bright smile. “Hope you don't mind, I had a craving for pancakes.” “No problem,” Björn mumbled, wondering if he was having some very lucid dream. However, a cup of coffee and a heap of pancakes later he was pretty certain he was not awake. Not the worst way to start a day if he had to think about it. “Thanks for letting me stay, your guest bed is really comfortable,” Timo smiled as he helped clear the table and tidy the kitchen. “It's million times better than Eduard's sofa. Can I crash here again if I'm too drunk to get home?” “Eh... sure?” Björn replied with a shrug. “But you've gotta take her for a walk then,” he said and pointed to Hanna – who was sitting on the floor and wagging her tail excitedly back and forth, clearly hoping for some food to drop to the floor. “Seriously?” Timo's eyes lit up. “I was thinking I'd be paying you or something, but walking Hanna? Man, that's like you paying me.” “You like her that much?” “I love dogs, but my landlord won't let me have pets.” “Ah,” Björn nodded. “Well you can come over and walk her as much as you want, it would only do her good.” “Really?” Timo was almost jumping of joy. “Mhm,” Björn nodded. “I usually work from home, so if you need someone to walk her in the middle of the day or something then I can do that.” “Sounds good,” Björn shrugged. “She prefers company.” “She's so cute she deserves company,” Timo smiled and clapped his hands, laughing as Hanna came running across the floor and towards him. “I can't promise I might try to steal her.” “I knew you were a thief,” Björn chuckled. “Yes. Of hearts and dogs,” Timo winked. “Sometimes also vodka.” “I'll be sure to lock up all three things from now then.” “Aw no, don't. We could have a lot of fun!” “With what? The dog? The Vodka? My heart?” Björn snorted at the idea. “See when you put it like that I just sound like a bad guy,” Timo frowned. “You are wearing leather trousers,” Björn pointed out. “They are essential for a gig,” Timo replied and stuck his tongue out. “Noted,” Björn smirked. “I should get going,” Timo sighed. “But hey, give me your number ad we can arrange a day for me to look after Hanna?” “Mhm,” Björn nodded, motioning for Timo to wait just a moment. He returned a few seconds later with his phone, grumbling about tiny buttons and giant fingers. “There,” Timo grinned as his own number flashed onto Björn screen. “I'll hopefully see you shortly.” “Yeah.” “Thanks again for the bed,” Timo smiled and waved as he stepped out the front door. “No problem,” he replied and gave a little wave back. Then he had a thought. “They still look good on you,” he called after Timo. He watched as Timo stopped, turned around – gaping and blushing. Björn smirked and gave Timo a final little wave before shutting his door. Hoping Timo hadn't seen his own red face. Fifteen minutes later his phone buzzed.

 'You dick. At least buy me drink next time.'

Björn chuckled to himself as he re-read the text before replying.

 'You were already drunk. Didn't think there was a point. Next time though.'

'I'll hold you to that.'