Inspired by The False Vyper's texting au

The curtains of day began to fall, transitioning the backdrop of Paris from a picture perfect pink and orange into one of darkness which glistened with tiny possibilities – and secrets. The sounds of joyful children faded as they made their way home to bed; rowdy teens taking their places on street corners and parks. Lights sprang to life in restaurants and bars — friends hugged their reunions and lovers kissed in lust and longing, each and everyone unaware of how lucky they were to be so free and open with their love.

She stood on her small terrace, not afraid of the cold air nipping at her through the thin cotton of her favourite yellow jumper. Regardless of the weather, she would always be there watching the last moments of daylight before night made its presence and wrapped a blanket around the world in its own little fortress. Stars twinkling more than any fairy light ever could.

Each star gleamed with unknowing mischief, a reflection of his eyes, not in colour but in brightness and beauty. Her heart swelled with a feeling of closeness. She had told him her theory many times, and many times he'd made a corny joke about it — but he was her star. Shining, shimmering, splendid. Her bright, vibrant, light in the dark. A guide for her to follow and to see such beautiful and unique things.

Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, she rubbed, hoping to spread some warmth through the thin fabric and into her body. She wouldn't relent though – the bitter frost was a small consequence for this stolen moment. He would be arriving any second now. He never came until it was dark enough to hide the world from their usual antics, keeping her and her identity safe, and himself blended into the shadows.

His camouflage was flawless, keeping her heart at ease. She checked her watch — soon .

A gust of wind pushed her hair over her face, causing her to step back away from the railing in an attempt to free her vision. But it was no use. Her balcony had become a wind tunnel and she had nothing to tie the long strands back making it unruly and uncontrollable, keeping her in a losing battle — just like her feelings.

She closed her eyes and began to move her hand around her face, pushing it back as best as she could, only stopping when her hands were met by the coolness of a familiar material.

"You know, I like this new style. Very Addams family."

Opening her eyes, she came face to face with the shimmering emeralds of her desired treasure and she took back every single word she had said about the stars – they had nothing on him.

Foregoing a welcome, she launched into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck and kissing him breathless. He moved them backwards, her back colliding with the cold, hard wall, as his hot, masculine body pressed into hers. His fingers dug into her waist in the most delicious way as she arched forward to gain more contact — needing and wanting more. 

The bricks behind her rubbed harshly at the bare flesh of her lower back, but it was soon forgotten as his tongue traced her lower lip and an electric current pin balled around her body.

They continued with practised precision. Giving and taking in ways they knew the other adored. Kisses of love. Kisses of lust. Kisses of desire .

She finally pulled away before she did something embarrassing, like groan his name for everyone to hear. She was possessive, but she still had at least an ounce of self discipline. Alya was just inside, she didn't want to alert her friend to her antics on the balcony — especially with the number one bachelor in Paris.

His forehead dropped colliding with hers as his eyes remained firmly closed, his chest heaving like he'd just ran a marathon. A slow, sensual smirk teased at the corner of his lips.

Slowly, his eyes opened with captivating intensity. "I'm going to take a shot in the dark here...but I think you might have missed me."

She snorted, running her hands up into his hair. It was always so soft, tickling her slightly as it made its escape through her fingers. She moved her hands higher, circling just behind his cat ears, before giving the bass of the feline part a little stroke.

A deep, melodic sound escaped his chest, filling the tranquillity of their hidden utopia at the back of her balcony with a contented hum.

"Hi," she said.

His lips stretched into a wide, perfect grin. "Hey. How was last night?"

There was something in his voice, an almost regretful tone which sent her stomach spiralling.

"It was fine."

He moved his head away from hers and raised an eyebrow. He didn't believe her at all, he knew her too well.

She shrugged and looked to the side. "It was. Well, as much as I could. You know it's not fun going out with them when they spend their time being all gushy, I have to hang around with Adrien."

Looking back at him, she smiled before reaching to stroke the hairs caressing the base of his skull.

"He doesn't seem that bad." He ran his nose along her jawline and pressed a soft kiss on her neck, just under her ear causing her head to tilt in desperation for more. "I wish I could have been there with you....maybe next time?"

She almost knocked him out, as her head shot upright. "Does that mean...? Are you going to...? You don't have to...?"

"Marinette!"

Chat Noir looked to her door, releasing her waist and stepping back. She wasn't ready to let him go yet, regardless of Alya's entrance into her room. He couldn't go — not when they were this close. Her hands grabbed hold of his biceps, keeping him there.

"Marinette!" Alya shouted again, a shadow suddenly appearing in her room.

"I'll be in, in a minute." Marinette shouted back through the closed door.

"Well, hurry up! We're going to be late, and you better have changed out of that ridiculous banana jumper! I wish you'd just bin that damn thing, even charity shops wouldn't take such a colossal fashion crime."

They both watched as the shadow disappeared and the sound of Marinette's door slammed shut.

Marinette sighed, dropping her head onto her boyfriend's chest before they both broke out into a manic laugh. Her head bounced up and down with his melodic chortle, a feeling so real and delightful — lighting up his eyes with more power than a Disney castle. She adored his laugh.

The joy dazzled in Chat's eyes and she pushed onto her toes to kiss him again, missing his lips and catching him mid breath on his teeth.

"That was an awful kiss, M'Lady."

"Well, then, it matches my awful jumper from my awful boyfriend," she quipped, finally letting him go and allowing him to step back. He reached behind him for his baton, walking backwards towards the railing blowing her a kiss.

"I love you, Bug," he whispered, pressing the paw to extend the baton.

"I love you more," she hushed back, blowing him a kiss. "Message me later."

He left her with his usual salute, launching himself across the rooftops and taking her heart with him.

Silently, the tears rolled down her cheeks, her chest stuttering with each intake of breath, as she tucked her hands into the sleeves of the jumper and rubbed at her cheeks. The lingering smell of him on the material only added to her hidden heartache. "I wish you could be with me tonight, Kitty."

...And that night, as they settled side by side in the cinema, Adrien shared a popcorn with Marinette, his hand purposefully catching hers, numerous times, as they both reached into the bag.

And as he watched Nino say his long, drawn out goodnight to Alya, his heart yearned to mirror the action with Marinette.

He had no idea how much longer he could keep on going this way.

*****

Coming to these galas was about as interesting as looking at the pile of toilet rolls at the Tate Modern. Adrien wandered around aimlessly looking for someone to talk to, he'd already spent an infuriating amount of time with Chloé, and if he wasn't careful he was quite sure another of the pretentious models would be after him too — unless he could find someone to place his attention on first.

The gala was for charity, so he didn't mind being there in support, it was just he wished he had someone to bring with him. He had tried to gain a plus one ticket again, but his father was beginning to question him more about exactly who this plus one was. And by his father, he actually meant the email he'd sent Nathalie.

A waiter walked past with a tray of champagne glasses, Adrien's hand reaching out and snatching up his first of the evening.

The room was beautiful. A ballroom within a Paris hotel with floor to ceiling windows and a mural on the roof which reminded him of Beauty and the Beast, complete with the huge chandelier. He began to zone out —the visions of himself in a blue suit, dancing with Marinette in a floor length ball gown consuming his thoughts. They'd be close, too close to be labelled as just friends . He'd spin her, compliment her...kiss her.

No masks.

No secrets.

Just them.

"Good evening, Adrien. I know this is a strange question, but do you mind if I stand with you for a while? I - um - I'm not very good at these things."

He turned his head to the woman standing beside him. She wasn't in a floor length ball gown, but, even though it wasn't formal wear, he couldn't deny how much he appreciated seeing the skin tight polka dotted suit.

"Of course," he smiled. "Is there anyone specific you're trying to hide from?"

She smirked, tilting her head to one side. "Does everyone count?"

Adrien laughed. "Well, I'm glad I'm not classed as 'everyone' then."

"You are my number one fan after all."

Adrien grinned. "I still have that napkin, you know. I've framed it and put it beside my bed."

Ladybug snorted, shaking her head in disbelief.

And he couldn't help but continue his teasing. "What? I'm telling you the truth! I kiss your lipstick mark every single night."

"Stop!" she howled, covering her face with her hands. He was proud to see a slight tinge of pink kissing the apple of her cheeks, the obvious sign he was embarrassing her.

"They're very kissable," he said with a wink, "I'm sure you have one of my topless posters laying around somewhere in your room." His voice came out honeyed, in a way he'd never spoken to her before...not as Adrien at least.

He was playing with fire, and with information he shouldn't know. But her smile and her blush was addicting, and he wanted to keep them there more than he wanted to breathe.

She slowly lowered her hands from her face, her eyes growing more and more mischievous. "If you really must know, I have a poster of you on my ceiling. It keeps me company on my lonely nights." 

He raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Adrien knew full well she was lying, but he loved talking to her. And when she went into sassy mode, he couldn't help but keep poking her until she snapped.

"Hell no!" she said with the cheekiest grin he'd ever seen placed on her lips. Oh, how he wanted to kiss it off and make her pay for it. He made a mental note to buy a full sized poster from his last underwear shoot. Perfect for when she finally knew the truth.

Adrien crossed his arms and burned his gaze into her. "I'll have you know, many women want this?" He threw his arms down indicating his body — not even a flinch.

"And unfortunately for you, I'm not one of them. I don't need number two on the eligible bachelor list when I have number one for those real lonely nights."

She stretched up and tapped him on the nose, and the effects he'd started to feel from her words wore off in an instant. Both of their faces dropped as they recoiled. That was familiar... far too familiar.

"I - um -" Adrien stretched to the back of his neck and rubbed against his hairline.

She turned away first, her arms crossed over her body and lips pursing, looking out over the dance floor. He'd found it far too easy to go into his normal role with her. It was hard enough dealing with her when it was Adrien and Marinette, but Adrien with Ladybug was seriously dangerous territory.

He glanced to the side, looking down at her and unconsciously skimming her body. Every crevice and curve of her body was  mouth watering, and his . The jealousy struck hard every time someone looked at her as though she was fair game. Everyone knew she was not!

Adrien dropped his hands to his pockets, burying them deep to stop him from reaching out for her, both hands clenching to within an inch of their life.

Breathe, Adrien! Control yourself!

"Do you - would you like to dance?" Her voice shocked him, helping him control his primal needs.

"Sure." He offered a hand out, her small red glove disappearing in his much larger, masculine one.

He led them into the middle of the dance floor, the string band playing a soft acoustic version of some sort of love ballad, but his mind was only on one thing. Swaying and dancing with his Lady. He looked down at her, noticing a sorrow in her eyes he'd been seeing a lot more often recently – as Adrien at least.

"Are you okay, Ladybug?"

She nodded, a small smile caressing her lips. A small, fake smile. He'd done enough of them himself to know.

"It's nothing," she sighed. "You don't want to be listening to me rambling on."

He pulled her closer, leaning down to her ear as he spoke. "If it's making you feel sad it is something. So ramble on all you'd like. Superhero or not, you have valid feelings and I've been told I have great listening skills."

It came out like a dam breaking, the words flowing out as though they'd been pushing against her mental wellbeing for weeks...maybe even months. "I miss Chat Noir. He had something else on tonight and couldn't make it. No offence, as you're a very good dancer, but I'd love to have the chance to dance with him. Preferably without the suits..." her voice lowered. "And the masks."

Adrien felt the words settling in his stomach like a lead weight. She had told him she was fine with him not coming — when he was Chat at least — that they can't always be attached to the hip and time apart would do them good. That's why he was here as himself.

He hated the fact she was hiding this sorrow. He hated even more that he was the only one she could really confide in – especially as Marinette, the necklace fiasco making him privy to her 'little secret'.

A decision needed to be made and soon. He couldn't keep hurting her.

... And that night when Ladybug returned home, she was shocked to find a visitor knocking on her door a few moments later, escorting her to a rooftop and dancing with her the way she'd dreamed of tonight.

But something was stirring in the back of her mind. It just couldn't be a coincidence that he knew... could it?

*****

Marinette felt on edge. Every nerve in her body was on high alert and her stomach churned in anxiety she couldn't place.

"Did you want anything before we start? A glass of water? Or coffee?" Adrien led her through into his kitchen, her bags in his hands. He placed them delicately on the kitchen counter before making his way to the fridge.

"Oh - um - just water please. I'm feeling a little queasy." She perched on a stool at his breakfast bar, watching his back as he walked away. With every step he took, her stomach coiled into a tighter knot, it was telling her to turn around and go home, that she shouldn't be here.

Adrien pulled the door open and grabbed a bottle of water, looking back at her with a worried expression clouding his face. His eyebrows had softened causing a stark contrast to the sharp edges of his face — ice circulated around her body

"Can I do anything to help? I can always see if I have any medication that could help," he asked, walking back and opening the bottle for her.

She waved him off. "I'm sure I'm fine. I've just been up late trying to finish these outfits for class. I'm probably just tired."

He looked at her in a way that proved he knew she was lying. The tiny nibble at the lower corner of her bottom lip was the tell tale sign, and she knew he knew it.

He placed her bottle down in front of her, her hand snatching it straight away and bringing it to her lips. She took a slow sip, without looking at him, yet she could feel his eyes locked on her. Her neck prickled with anticipation and fear. She should really go home. She placed the water back down, debating with herself whether she should get out.

The whole essence of 'Adrien' was overpowering her senses and she was losing the ability to think straight.

She'd hadn't felt awkward in front of Adrien in years, but right now she was terrified. It was as though he could see through her, that he knew some sort of hidden secret between them that she wasn't privy to, and worst of all, each look and touch felt far too comfortable, far too familiar. He'd been seeking her out more, individually and when they were in a group, and she couldn't help but feel he was purposefully doing it.

Worst of all...it didn't make her feel uncomfortable.

Adrien reached out. He placed a hand on hers firing an electric current up her arm. She swiftly pulled it away, reaching for her water again and taking the bottle to her mouth.

"We can leave it for today if you want? Or maybe you can have a nap or something? My bed's always available to you."

Without warning, the water sprayed out of her mouth...and all over Adrien's top. His comment had completely taken her off guard. And, though she couldn't be sure, she couldn't help feeling like there was an underlying meaning to it.

His bed was always available to her.

She looked at his top noticing the splatter of water soaking into his cashmere jumper.

Shit!

Jumping from her seat, she made her way around to him, grabbing the dish cloth but forgetting the slight raise to the main kitchen area. Her toe stubbed into it causing a shock of pain to seep up her leg as she tumbled forward head first, colliding with his naked flesh — unaware he'd removed the soaked jumper from his body.

"I've got you," Adrien whispered, his hands supporting her shoulders and stopping her face from colliding with the expensive marble flooring.

They were close — too close .

He was warm — too warm .

He smelled so good, and so... familiar.

"You can let me go now," she whispered back. The lack of movement, on her part, made the statement questionable.

They remained firmly placed together, Adrien looking down at her with something she'd never seen in his eyes before, something which took her breath away and made her heart jump around her chest. He shouldn't have this effect on her — not now. She was in love with her boyfriend. She wanted to be with Chat. But something in his eyes made her question everything . He'd never looked at her this way before, but someone else had. Everything was so similar.

"Thank you," she whispered again. A hushed voice sounding out over her manically beating heart. Her fisted hands loosened, blossoming like a flower and placing themselves on his warm, strong chest.

Her mind began to play tricks on her, telling her it was okay, that this was normal and acceptable. Her heart, however, disagreed.

"Marinette." He said her name with an exhaled breath, the air caressing her face as he moved closer. His eyes softened into an almost close as he continued to her level. The height difference made this all feel natural.

Her lips tingled with anticipation; her mind once again conning her into pushing up onto her tippy toes and barely leaving a fraction of an inch between them. She couldn't stop. There was something inside her telling her — no, begging her — to keep going, that she needed to close the gap.

But as the soft pads of his lips pressed against hers, she recoiled, jolting out of the mysterious fantasy and back to reality. What had she just done?

"I've got to go." His face couldn't have looked more hurt if she'd slapped him across it. "I need to go."

Stepping backwards, away from Adrien, she turned swiftly and vacated his apartment praying he wouldn't run after her.

As soon as she made it onto the streets, she stopped. With her hands on her knees, she keeled over trying hard to control the stirring in the gut.

She'd almost kissed Adrien. She'd almost kissed someone who wasn't her boyfriend. What the hell was going through her mind?

Standing straight, she began to run to the nearest alley way, calling her transformation and sailing off onto the safety of the Paris rooftop maze.

She needed to speak to her partner and beg for forgiveness.

...And that night, as Adrien watched Ladybug tumble and trip over the uneven surfaces of the skyline, in what he was sure was frantic panic and despair, he knew for a fact he had no other option.

It was time to come clean.