Friday Night
MariChat
Chapter 1; Part I
Adrien is thinking it wouldn't hurt to have a friend, wouldn't hurt to be wanted.
Marinette, Adrien is thinking. Marinette is good and gentle and a little goofy, but in the cute way that is kind when Adrien isn't Adrien, when Adrien is Chat Noir. When the house is cold and marbled surfaces, echoed sounds, twenty three closed doors that never open, Adrien thinks first of Ladybug, full of passion, and then of Marinette, full of a happiness.
It's not wrong, thinks Adrien, to approach her as Chat, even when she hardly talks to Adrien. Marinette will talk to Chat - it's not manipulative to seek her out; Marinette might even like Chat.
"Plagg," Adrien says, alone in his dark room, hollow walls, light seeping in from the setting sun and the desk lamp - he hasn't seen his dad in two days, not abnormal, he's not likely to see him for another two.
Chat is out the window, down the gutter pipe, across the rooftops. He doesn't want Nino's pity, good intentioned as it is. He just wants a night to keep the illusion that a home life doesn't matter - doesn't exist.
The Dupain-Chengs live in a bakery that can be smelled half a block before it can be seen and at some point, his nose is leading him, not his eyes, until he's there, at her window. The room is dark and it's a little weird, maybe, he feels kind of bad - kind of like an intruder…
He knocks twice, gets no answer and knocks twice more. It doesn't occur to him, until just now, that she might not even be home, might be off with her friends. Alya, most likely, and he's envious and sad but of course she'd be out - Marinette is loved. He's about to turn around, leap away to somewhere else, maybe a high place because he likes high places, because high places make him feel better, but the light flickers on and he sees her walk in - clad in PJs, hair down, brush in hand - he knocks again.
Marinette jumps and whirls around and she sees him immediately; it's funny, watching without sound, he sees the intake - the eep, because he's startled her but there's no sound - like a silent film. He grins at her, waves in what might have been embarrassment, but he's too happy to be ashamed.
Marinette runs to the window and opens it. Chat half falls in and half slinks.
"Good evening, princess," he purrs. She sticks her head out into the cold air, looks once to the left and then to the right and the turns on him.
"Are you alright?" She asks, looking confused. Chat is also confused.
"I'm a hero, princess!" He flourishes, "it'd take a cat-astrophe to bring me down," and he winks, for good measure. Marinette rolls her eyes, but flashes an amused smile. "Well then, to what do I owe the pleasure?" She says, humoring him.
Chat has no great answer. There's not a rational reason he's here as opposed to anywhere else. Chat Noir is supposed to be saving the city, not crashing in through people's windows, so he hesitates. Unsure how to answer, unable to do so.
Marinette doesn't say as much, but she probably catches on to it, the tense shoulders, the flicker of the eyes, Marinette knows how to read situations, Adrien knows, he's seen her defuse and he's seen her comfort and he's seen her catch a crowd, so he knows she knows even what she doesn't say. And it might have been mortifying to have her relay his insecurities, but she's tactful, too.
"My parents are out until late so I'm watching movies," she says, "and I'm making cookies-"
Chat's whole face lights, like the Effie tower, he can't hide it, the idea of cookies - fresh, warm, cookies.
"I'm sure you're very busy saving Paris tonight," she smiles.
"Never too busy to help a friend in need!" Chat says. "I'm a meow-velous taste tester!"
Whether Marinette says it, knows it, or doesn't, she is the remedy to his loneliness. She drags him by the tail into a world where even in the darkest room there is security. And wrapped in a blanket, munching cookies, Marinette, curled into the arm of the couch, beside him, watching some of the worst movies he could possibly dream of, Adrien doesn't know that he's ever been happier.
Is sure that he hasn't.
Cross posted at AO3. Based on a fanart I saw on tumblr. (I'd give a link, but doesn't take those well and I'm uploading from my phone ... Which is already kind of hard.)
I wanted to write a little fluff for these two goofballs. I might go back and add a couple more chapters later on, but for now I hope you enjoy. And please leave a comment if you feel so inclined~!