MLB Belongs To Thomas Astruc And His Team
Small fic, reviews are welcome, and if you want me to continue this I will:)
Marinette circled the rim of her glass with her finger. She was extremely bored. Alya, of course, was out on the dance floor with Nino, and way too busy having fun to notice the poor soul she had dragged out of bed standing alone at the club. I should just go... she thought, looking at the alcohol in her hand. She'd already had two beers, and she never drank. She knew she was tipsy, but her teen years as Ladybug taught her well how to deal with these situations.
A room full of men, yet she always found herself looking. It had been five years. Five, since she'd seen that idiotic punning cat. She told herself she didn't want to see him- he'd left, why wouldn't she? But she knew deep down that she wouldn't be able to. That charming boy had looks and smarts- he really was perfect for her. In almost every way. She didn't want a guy that would abandon her in the middle of an akuma attack and never talk to her again. She sighed and shook her thoughts away. She should leave. There were some looks coming her way that she just couldn't ignore- even if Alya had made her put on her little black dress. She sighed again, just wanting to be in bed with her little black kitten- conveniently named Chat Noir- asleep. At twenty four, she was practically a heartbroken grandma.
"Hey there, sunshine." She was shaken from her thoughts as a voice boomed in her ear. She didn't have to turn to see his classic haircut, his megawatt smile. She just stared at the balloon across the room hard enough to make it pop. Literally, it popped. Well, happy birthday balloon said bye bye. She didn't even bat an eye. The guy, clearly drunk, shook her arm a little. "Heyyy babeyy... why don't we go see you move your body on the dance floor and, ahah, maybe somewhere else too, eh?" He elbowed her roughly. She just shot him a glare and pushed off from the wall. Before she could escape into the crowd, he grabbed her wrist roughly, trying to pull her back to him. He failed terribly, even with her in five inch heels and history of clumsiness. She whirled around, gave the perv a quick, angry snarl, and tore her arm out of his grip. She marched herself over to the bar and called for another drink.
"Not your type, eh?" The guy behind the bar asked her.
She glanced at the drink he set down before recognizing the blonde mop of gorgeous hair. Green eyes slanted away from her- glaring at the perv across the room. "My type is pretty specific." She said, internally panicking. It couldn't be- right?
"I'm just glad someone finally taught that guy a lesson- though I was hoping he'd get smacked." He chuckled, cleaning a glass with a rag. "He comes in here almost daily, never gets any girls- I'm really not surprised- but he chases them away. I might get him banned. Just for the sake of sanity."
Marinette laughed at that. "What's your name?" She asked, finally turning around to face him.
He seemed to hesitate. "Just call me Pan." He said.
Marinette grew suspicious. "What's Pan short for?" She said, slanting her eyebrows.
"Panthére Noir." He said.
Oh god, it had to be him- "Ah, a code name." She said.
He smirked, a lovely sight on his handsome face. "And your name, little lady?" He put the glass under the bar.
"Let's go with Bée." She suggested off the top of her head.
"Short for...?" He asked, absently smirked as he rubbed another already-clean glass.
"Scarabée Rouge." She smiled. Take the hint!
"Well, Bée, I forgive you if you kick my ass." He said as he ducked to set the glass down.
"What would I have to kick your handsome ass for?" She asked with a smirk.
He smacked the towel down onto the counter. "Well, considering your friends over there will be here for a long time, and you look miserable, my shift ends in five minutes. Would you want to walk and grab a quick coffee with me across the road?" He offered a wink. She blushed.
"Sure, I'd love to." She said, twisting her bag a little after momentarily forgetting about Tikki. The kwami squirmed in the pouch and she immediately stopped, patting the bag softly in a silent apology.
"Great, let me finish up here and grab my jacket." He smiled before disappearing. She pursed her lips to hide her huge smile. Two minutes later, she was shooting Alya a quick wave before walking out the door that Pan had held open for her. A true gentleman. They walked to the small café across the street talking casually. "I used to have longer hair that made me look like a cat when it got frizzed." He said, making her laugh imagining it. He brought up hobbies as they sat down, which sent her into a frenzy of hand movements as she described designing. She realized she was talking a lot and apologized. "Don't apologize, I love when people talk about their passions, their eyes brighten up and they get so excited. You're too cute."
They paused as they let what he just said sink in. He immediately flushed and rambled meaninglessly. She giggled, stopping him. "Thank you, Pan." He gave a lopsided smile.
"So, Rouge, do you design for work?" He asked, stirring his coffee.
"I do, Chaton. I work at Agreste." She said, taking an innocent sip of her latte and choosing to ignore the way he momentarily sputtered at the old nickname. "And is there anything you'd rather do than work at a bar in a club?" I'm dropping SO MANY HINTS HERE. Her mind screamed.
He sighed. "I don't really know. I used to model for Agreste, the bar is just to do something. I would travel but it's never fun without a loyal partner." Marinette nodded along, perfectly understanding disloyal partners. "And I don't know about you, but New York looks pretty fun. Maybe somewhere more tropical though? But like I said, no travel buddy, no travel." He shrugged.
Marinette traced the edge of her cup with her finger, pondering her next move. "I have one month off after next week. I didn't know how to spend that much time off, but if you're up for it, I'm up for anywhere." She glanced up through her dark eyelashes and found his blushing-yet-smiling face.
"That would be amazing." His face broke into a smile. "Can I get your number, bug?" She rolled her eyes at the nickname.
They swapped numbers-
Rogue Rouge:3- testing testing 1 2 3, over.
Pun Noir:P- loud and clear, roger- over and out.
They laughed at each other's nicknames before putting their phones away. She waited at the table while he ordered them an ice cream to share. Their conversation was so easy- almost like two old friends catching up. She talked about growing up in a bakery and designing. He talked about the places he'd seen modeling earlier in the business and how many extracurricular activities he juggled.
"Wait, wait, you're telling me that you had fencing, then piano, then Chinese, then English, then basketball, plus photo shoots every week?" She laughed incredulously.
"You're the one who looks like a model despite living above a cookie factory!" He exclaimed. She laughed. As they finished the ice cream, Alya texted and said she'd gone home with Nino. She smirked knowing exactly what that meant. Pan offered to call a cab, but she told him she lived close by. "Want me to walk you home?" He offered.
"Sure, thanks." She smiled. They had small conversations but a lot of the time was spent in comfortable silence. Soon, they were at her front door. "Thanks for saving me tonight." Marinette smiled.
"It was my pleasure, really." He promised with a lopsided smile. Thunder rumbled and a drop of water plopped on his head. Of course it had to start raining right then. "Oh, no! Here, come inside, out of the rain!" Marinette quickly unlocked the door to her apartment and pulled him inside. "Jeezumn! That was, like, sudden downpour!" She peered out the window. She turned to look at him, realizing with only one look how unsure he was. "S-sorry, I kind of kidnapped you." She grinned sheepishly.
"I-it's fine. You just caught me by surprise, I guess." He gave her a bright, perfect smile. She returned it, dropping her keys off and slipping out of her heels before leading him into the kitchen. The apartment was homey, not too small. He looked around as he followed her.
"Well while you're here, do you want a drink?" She offered, holding a bottle of white wine up.
"Thanks." He said as he took a glass from her. She poured them a good amount before setting to bottle on the counter and sitting on a barstool. She patted the seat next to her and took a sip. They got to talking, finishing the bottle of wine and cracking open some liquor, just to keep the conversation going. Too late, they realized the liquor was gone, but couldn't bring themselves to care.
The conversation just kept going, as did the drinks. Pan's flirtatious side had zero filter. They were soon telling dangerous secrets, border line identity reveal. Not that it would matter too much to the both of them in their current state. "When I was sixteen I started doing gymnastics because running around with akumas is so much easier when you're flexible." Marinette said.
"Sexy." Pan commented. She giggled. "I used to run around with akuma too, you know." He admitted. "But it's different when you fight akumas, you can get pretty beat up. It wasn't too fun."
"Oh, I know, and my partner, although very helpful, was such a flirt." She laughed. And there it was. Both stopped, started thinking, then looked up at each other with wide eyes. Both mouths fell open in shock.
"It really is you, bug." He whispered. And in the blink of an eye, Pan- no, Chat's lips were on hers.