Notes: …this wasn't supposed to have a part two. This wasn't supposed to happen. I'm supposed to be wrapping up HS, dammit. But Workout Jagged has Infected People, and Airi did this AMAZING pic, and I couldn't say no. Workout Jagged is becoming a Cycle of Dammit Fic/Pics. xD

Still technically using the "neon colors" theme for the same sprint week. Went for…let's say four sprints, because Mal was doing her damnedest to distract me with Workout Gifs during one of them. Also bare minimum editing because I just want this up and done so I can finish HS, dammit. xD

"Move Like Jagged"

The (Unintended) Part 2: Let Me See You Rock Those Hips!

"Ok, bye! Call me when you get home!" Marinette called from the doorway of the bakery, waving at her boyfriend as he pedaled off to work. Her parents shared a not-so-secret smile as she watched him go, a goofy little smile on her equally goofy face.

She'd been goofy a lot lately – for at least a week now. They were both ecstatic: the goofiness ("Young love, dear," Sabine often chided her husband) was a much welcome change from the stress and moping she'd been stuck in lately.

"Good date?" Tom teased when Marinette finally turned away from the door with a happy little sigh. She squeaked and froze, her face turning a bright scarlet as she saw her parents grinning at her.

"W-w-we weren't…he was just walking me home from school!" she stammered. Sabine chuckled and packed up some macarons for her to take upstairs.

"Across the street, dear?" she teased kindly. "I seem to recall school let out…almost an hour ago?"

"…we took the long way," Marinette mumbled, fidgeting with the straps of her backpack. Sabine patted her hair and kissed her forehead, still chuckling as she put the macarons in her backpack.

"It's fine, dear," she said. "We're just happy to see you happy again. He makes you happy?"

"…so happy," Marinette sighed, smiling that goofy smile again as she glanced over her shoulder – even though Luka was long gone by now. "I…I really like him, Maman."

Sabine suspected Marinette more than really liked the Couffaine boy, but she also knew it was still early and the kids would admit to that when they were ready.

There was no rush, after all.

"I'm glad you two worked things out, sweetheart," she said, hugging her tight. She patted her shoulder and nodded towards the back. "Now go finish your homework. Oh – and Jagged stopped by earlier to see you! He wanted to talk about a commission."

Marinette's face turned an interesting color that wasn't quite pale, wasn't quite green, and wasn't quite red. It was some strange mix of all three. She was biting down on her lip pretty hard, too. Her parents shared another Look over that one.

"O-oh?" Marinette squeaked, sounding a little strangled.

"He asked you to call him when you got home," Tom chipped in, taking his apron off the hook and tying it back on. "Said he could stop by again later tonight if you're free. He sounded pretty excited."

"S-sure," Marinette snickered, and Tom's eyebrows rose. "I'll do that right now. Call Jagged. Rock it out." She wheezed a little, clapping her hand over her mouth. "And homework! Ok – love you bye!"

Tom and Sabine watched with baffled expressions as their daughter bolted up the stairs to their home above. When the door slammed behind her, Tom turned back to his wife.

"…what the heck was that about?" he asked. Sabine could only shrug.

– V –

Upstairs, Marinette made quick work of contacting Jagged. He answered her call with his usual enthusiasm, spending longer than he really needed to singing her praises. She rolled her eyes fondly as he called her his favorite little designer – she knew he was being sincere, but it honestly felt like he was trying to butter her up any more. With the pleasantries out of the way, he launched into an excited explanation about the totally rock-n-roll idea he'd had for his next music video, but he still needed the perfect outfit for it, and that's where his favorite little frock star came in – and did she have any time this week to meet and discuss the details?

…and maybe that's when the idea started forming.

As Jagged continued to rave over the concept, Marinette put him on speaker and pulled up Luka's text chain. She sent him a few rapid-fire texts, asking when he got off that night and if he'd be able to come over – and if not tonight, what night would be best. He answered sooner than she'd expected, telling her it'd been dead all day and his boss didn't think they'd need him the full shift. He'd love to come over later – why? What was up?

"I still have school tomorrow, but is eight ok?" Marinette asked Jagged, grinning as she continued to text her boyfriend (and didn't that just make her smile wider, thinking of Luka as her boyfriend).

"Sounds perfect, baby girl!" Jagged crowed. "I'll see you then!"

With Jagged coming over at eight (and Luka aiming for say half an hour sooner), Marinette turned to Tikki with a grin.

"I know I'm supposed to be doing my homework…" she said, and Tikki giggled as the grin turned into a smirk. "…buuuut I don't really have a lot today, anyway. What do you say we pop out to the thrift store down the street for some supplies?"

"Jagged's going to kill you, Marinette," Tikki giggled. Marinette's grin grew.

"Oh, I'm fully counting on it."

– V –

Luka knocked on the hatch to her room a little after seven. He came bearing mango pizza and more macarons.

"Sandip was getting creative," he said, putting the pizza on her desk. "Mango chicken. It's actually not bad. And your dad thinks I need to eat more."

"Have you seen your legs?" Marinette teased. Luka's eyebrows rose, and she giggled as she stood on her toes to greet him with a kiss. She dropped back on her heels with a happy hum as he bent to meet her. "You're way too scrawny to haul around flour sacks. How is he ever going to pass the bakery on if he doesn't fatten you up first?"

"…ok, I'm not quite sure where to start unpacking that," Luka chuckled, but Marinette just grinned and kissed him again.

"Unpack it over here," she said, taking his hand and tugging him over to the box on her chaise. "Jagged's going to be here at eight, and we have to be ready."

"You still haven't said how we're going to be ready," Luka said. "You just asked if I wanted to prank him. What's your plan here, Ma…"

His words cut off as he choked on a strangled laugh, his eyes blowing wide when she pulled a bundle of neon Lycra out of the box. She grinned and held up a pair of bright red shorts sprinkled with neon yellow…sprinkles.

"It occurred to me, after I got to the store, that I need to take your measurements," she said, quirking an eyebrow at him. "I have a pretty good eye for these things, so they should fit, but if I'm off…" she pulled on the waistband, and he choked on another laugh as the fabric gave. "…at least they stretch?"

"Oh my God, I love you," he wheezed, taking the…ok. They were definitely going to be booty shorts. There was no way in hell they were falling anywhere near his knees. In fact, just looking at them, it appeared they'd been cut off just below the crotch. She handed him the rest of the workout gear and pushed him towards her changing screen.

"Go on – we need to make sure it fits before he gets here!" she said. He looked over his shoulder to say something, but she was already back to digging in the box. He grinned when she pulled out more Lycra and…dear God, were those fuzzy neon pink leg warmers? She shooed him again before taking her own bundle down the stairs to change in the bathroom.

A few minutes later, he heard her coming back into the room.

"Are you ready?" she asked. He looked down at himself and grinned.

"As I'll ever be," he said, rolling his shoulders to try and stretch the shirt. He wasn't sure if the clothes were just a little small or if they were supposed to cling like that, but the entire getup – from the black t-shirt that looked like the carpet of a roller skating rink to the neon blue tights he was wearing under the booty shorts that cut off just above his knees, and even the v-cut neon yellow tank top he was sporting over the tee – felt like a second skin. He walked out from behind the changing screen and struck a pose, placing his fists on his waist, cocking his hip, and grinning at Marinette. "How do I look?"

… seemed to have crashed.

She stood there, dressed her own garish neon workout ensemble, gawking at him with her eyes wide and her mouth open. The only thing that made it a little better – or maybe worse – was that his eyes were a little too busy raking over her to notice the way hers were raking over him. Because…damn.

He knew Marinette was…fit. Built. Of course he knew that. But she was usually more conservative in her dressing than neon-colored tights and a shiny red leotard, so it usually wasn't as…on display as it currently was. Even with the baggy white crop top (also covered in geometric print, because why not) and fuzzy hot pink leg warmers, the rest of her was…

Well.

He supposed she could say the same for him, too.

Really, the workout gear was no worse than his old super suit, but Marinette didn't exactly know it was him beneath Viperion's costume. And she didn't usually see him without his hoodie and jacket and –

"Oh my God, you're ripped," she gasped, and a beat passed between them before she was squeaking and slapping her hands over her burning face. "I-I mean look! Look you! Good you look! Oh my God, kill me now."

He was laughing as he walked over to her, but she just whined when he pulled her into a hug – though that didn't stop her from flattening her palms against his chest and totally feeling him up. He probably shouldn't have enjoyed that as much as he did.

"You look great, too," he whispered by her ear, and she whined again as he kissed her burning cheek. He started chuckling again as he rubbed her back. "Hey, come on. You're allowed to like how I look. I'm definitely liking how you look."

"…s-stoooop," she whined, burrowing closer to him. He flattened one of his hands against her shoulder blade, drumming his fingers against her skin.

"You're ripped, too," he teased. His next kiss was against her neck, and she squirmed against him – though he wasn't sure if that was because of her embarrassment or because his nose had brushed against the hair that had escaped her bun, tickling her. With all the makeouts and cuddles lately, he'd discovered Marinette was very ticklish. "But I already knew that. I don't know if you've noticed this past week, but holding you is one of my favorite things to do."

"Shut up," she giggled, bumping her shoulder into his chest. He chuckled and kissed her neck again.

"Right next to kissing you," he continued. "…though the makeouts trump kissing. Makeouts let me do both."

"Stoooop," she whined again, but he could see the smile behind her hands. He gave her a squeeze before stepping back.

"Ok," he said, "but only because Jagged's going to be here soon, and your plan probably won't work if he comes in here and we're too busy making out to notice."

Her face was still as scarlet as his booty shorts – as her leotard – when she moved past him to the box. She was still smiling, though. He hummed in appreciation as she bent over the box, unintentionally wiggling her butt at him.

"…ok, I don't think I'm ever going to mock eighties workout gear again," he said, shaking his head. "Damn, Marinette."

"Oh shut up and put these on," she huffed, biting down on her smile as she threw some fuzzy cyan leg warmers at him. When he was fully accessorized (including fuzzy wrist bands and a fuzzy headband that matched his shorts), she grinned and grabbed his hand, tugging him towards the stairs. "Come on – Jagged'll be here soon!"

– V –

It was another twenty minutes or so before Jagged actually arrived.

Her parents had howled when they'd emerged from her room – well, Tom had, at least. He had fallen off the couch, cackling and clapping his hands together like a seal as Sabine scrambled for her phone. After the necessary pictures had been taken, Sabine had helped them hook up the old VCR and pop the Move Like Jagged tape in. Tom – who had only just managed to stop laughing and crawl his way back onto the couch – fell off again when Workout Jagged made his appearance on screen.

They could still hear Tom snickering from her parents' room – where he had been banished until Jagged actually arrived – when Jagged called to say he was downstairs. Sabine sent the kids a wink and went to let him in. Marinette and Luka had already pushed the coffee table aside and the couch back to give them room, and while they waited they started the tape and began rocking out with Workout Jagged.

It only took a few minutes for the front door to slam open, Jagged's loud voice booming, "MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG, HOW IS MY FAVORITE…"

Just as Workout Jagged cried: "Let me see you roooock thoooose hiiiiips!"

And, mimicking the younger Jagged on the tape, Marinette and Luka began turning in a circle, wiggling their butts at Jagged as they alternated between waving their arms above their heads and below their knees (just like the Jagged on the tape was). The current song ended, and they leaned back against each other (only kind of awkwardly, as Luka was so much taller than her and she kind of just fell against his back instead of leaning into his shoulder) and posed, shouting "ROCK! IT! OUT!" with the tape as they grinned at Jagged.

A beat passed.

Then another.

Jagged Stone continued to stand there, mouth open and gawking as the next workout sequence started. Fang thumped her tail happily at his feet. Penny stood behind him, her phone raised (and recording) as the kids waited for…anything, really. Finally, as the tape behind them zoomed in on a jump-roping Anarka Couffaine, Jagged began…to laugh.

Loudly.

Like Tom.

He guffawed as he walked over to them, clapping his hands in uproarious applause.

"Oh my God, that was brilliant," he wheezed. He moved between them and dropped his arms around their shoulders, nearly choking Luka as he reached around the boy's neck to wipe at his eyes. Marinette faired only slightly better, but that was probably because Jagged had started thumping his hand against the bun she'd tied her hair into. He looked between them, his grin wide and…kind of terrifying, actually. "…but your form was atrocious. Come on – let me show you how a real rock star does it!"

He spun them around just as the next number was starting, raising his hands high above his head as he started clapping them off.

"FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT!"