start notes—
The first time Marinette sees Adrien nude, he's posing as Michelangelo's David in front of twenty freshmen and an assortment of art supplies.
(Has suggestive themes for the sake of humour, but does not contain any explicit or adult content.)
my tellonym: milkisande
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university
i think of all the things, what you're doing,
and in my head i paint a picture.
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MARINETTE vaguely wonders if it's an option to drop her major altogether.
She stands in front of the door, the entrance to Arts 322, a required subject in her curriculum— and one she's actively been avoiding since her first year at the university.
But now she's a senior, and if Marinette at all wanted to graduate with her degree in Fashion Design and Art, then ignoring it is no longer an option. (She's almost maxed out her absences from avoiding the first few sessions, but ultimately decides that a few… parts aren't dire enough to sacrifice her future for).
Mustering a lot more courage than is normally necessary for a college class, Marinette takes a step inside.
Madame Bustier's triumphant smile and the curious stares of freshmen (more than likely wondering what a graduating student's doing in here, and why she only started attending so late; she has the same question, really) is more than enough to make her hesitate.
"We've been waiting for you, Marinette!" She grins, then gestures for her to take one of the empty seats and easels. "Now we can start… everyone, welcome to nude figure painting!"
She awkwardly nods, but finds comfort that the atmosphere in the classroom seems to be mature and friendly, especially for a class that will require spending hours on end staring and painstakingly perfecting a sketch of some random person's genitalia. Maybe Madame Bustier was right. Maybe she is overreacting, and that this class is perfectly fine. Maybe her curse of being put in almost laughable over-the-top situations that do nothing but amplify her embarrassment has ended.
Marinette takes a moment to scan the room, consequently noticing a familiar head of blonde hair nervously sitting somewhere near the front. The question of what a business major (one that was graduating, too) would be doing in an art class conveniently escapes her mind, all but being ignored as the comfort in knowing someone else in the room overtakes her thoughts completely.
They make eye contact.
Why does he look so nervous?
She walks towards him.
Oh, he's wearing a robe. That's strange.
He walks to the front.
Wait… Adrien doesn't take art classes.
He disrobes.
"Now I'd like to introduce your model for today, a business senior and a professional model in the fashion industry, Adrien Agreste!"
Now that— that was much more on brand for her life.
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On a normal day, Marinette prides herself on being extremely professional.
Even as a student, she's already made strides into the fashion industry, having made pieces for various personalities such as Jagged Stone, Chloé Bourgeois, Kagami Tsurugi, and of course, even the Agrestes.
Adrien even modeled some of her designs, starting from that feathered hat she made in elementary, all the way to becoming a regular model in her fashion shows for class (which always ended up drawing a large audience— but whether it was from her designs or because of him remained to be a mystery). Their friendship only grew over the years, but it was always a thin line to mark that they would never cross over anything beyond that.
And seeing her best friend wearing nothing more than his birthday suit is more than enough to ensure that line is blurred and erased into oblivion.
Marinette wants nothing more than to run out of the room and pretend this never happened, but doing that would practically secure another year of her staying behind at university (And nobody wants that). So instead, she sucks it up and picks up her pencil.
From across the room, Adrien throws her an almost-worried glance, as he holds a posture that mimics the pose of Michelangelo's David. It's a sculpture she's never felt that strongly for; something that's surely changed as he stands in front of the class, with everything quite clearly on display.
Marinette's never seen more of him than at that exact moment.
She squeezes her eyes shut, and takes a deep breath.
You can do this, Marinette. It's just your friend dressed up in the way nature made him. There's nothing strange about this. Not at all. This is fine, this is fine, this is fine, he is fine…
Wait. Something wasn't quite right there.
As with all things uncomfortable, Marinette decides to ignore the thought and focus on drawing.
Drawing Adrien is disturbingly easy. She rarely has to look up from her canvas, having drawn him so often (both to his knowledge and without) that she's confident her hands have memorized his features by heart— something Marinette had never been so thankful for until now. From the smile wrinkles below his eyes to the callouses upon his hands, Marinette draws his upper body to an almost realistic and lifelike quality.
If only the assignment were portraits or bust sketches.
She sighs as her pencil stops at the v-shaped line curving down to his lower half. It's time. She has to do it.
Marinette fixates her stare downwards.
From his head, to his chest, to his stomach, and…
Nope, she can't do it.
"Thirty more minutes, then we present our work!" Madame Bustier calls, walking around the room to observe their sketches. She pauses after arriving at Marinette's canvas, giving her a cursory glance. "That's lovely work, Marinette, but you should hurry and finish the rest."
At that, Madame Bustier smiles, then leaves her to panic to herself.
How the hell is she going to finish this sketch if she's too immature to even look at him?
Marinette takes a deep breath, exhales, as an idea forms in her head.
Maybe there's a way to fix this, after all.
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They're all sitting together in a circular formation.
In all her art classes, Madame Bustier makes it a point to dedicate the final thirty minutes for sharing their artwork. It's meant to be a means to share positivity and constructive criticism, something Marinette always appreciated… up until this moment.
Adrien sits across from her— fully clothed now, opting not to move too close as they were both still processing that yes, that just happened. (She's not quite sure if she's thankful that he's far or if she wants him to be close, though.)
The freshmen go first, proudly showing off their drawings. They're talented, sketching his figure with great detail, yet Marinette can't help but think they don't capture his essence. In their pieces, Adrien's too rigid, too static— when she knows, maybe more so than anyone else, that he's not like that at all.
Adrien, however, seems to think the complete opposite. He looks at the paintings with vivid attention and marvels at how they draw his image, rendered in twenty or so different ways. He seems completely in awe, and Marinette itches to get that expression on paper.
(As if she hadn't just drawn him only a few moments earlier.)
"And… Marinette!" She's finally called, as she's the only one yet to show her work. As Marinette stands to the center, Madame Bustier continues to speak to the freshmen.
"Now I understand some of you have been rather… surprised to have a senior here, but I'm glad you've treated her kindly. She's one of the most promising students we have in this department, so I do hope you make the most of this opportunity to learn from her."
Marinette smiles nervously. She's not that much a fan of the attention, but nods along (though she wishes very intensely it were over).
At that, Madame Bustier faces her suddenly, then beams. "Her work for today is also lovely! I only saw the first half, but the attention to detail is something I hope you all strive for in the future." She turns to Adrien.
Oh… no.
"It's clear that she's observed you quite passionately." Was this happening? "She depicts you so handsomely." Is this real? "The sketch was truly a work of love, if I've ever seen one."
Please, go ahead and bury her now.
Before Madame Bustier can respond— or even worse, before he does, Marinette coughs loudly enough to gain their attention. And she shows off her work.
Silence.
Then, a bark of laughter.
(She only notices with belated horror that it's Adrien who starts the cycle— as a growing ripple of stifled giggles echo throughout the classroom.)
Because Marinette Dupain-Cheng, almost-professional fashion designer and artist, had covered Adrien's lower half… with a pair of pants on.
Marinette can almost see the cartoonish tick that appears on Madame Bustier's forehead.
"Care to explain, Marinette?"
She smiles meekly.
"... he should take me on a date first."
Adrien almost doubles over in laughter. (Before immediately shutting up, at the unamused expression of their professor.)
Madame Bustier attempts to respond, as the sudden alarm of her phone goes off. Realizing that class is almost over, she instead heaves an exhausted sigh.
"Okay, then, that's all for today!" She starts. "Very good work, everyone, but I would like to remind you all that this is a nude drawing class." Madame Bustier makes it a point to look at her dead in the eye. "Next time, please refrain from adding clothing to the models. Thank you!"
Marinette has never rushed out of a classroom so quickly in her life.
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"So… pants, huh?"
Marinette exhales, rubbing her forehead as he corners her down the hallway. "Don't even remind me," she mutters, instead. "Madame Bustier has me doing another nude sketch to submit next session. It's not my fault!"
Adrien laughs. "I mean… you did go directly against what she wanted you to do."
"I was caught off-guard!" Marinette argues. "I didn't know you were going to be the model!" She huffs, jabbing his side with her elbow. "Since when did you start doing this? And why didn't you tell me?!"
"It's my first time!" He retorts, defensively. "Madame Bustier asked if I could help, and you know I can't disappoint her… besides, she told me you wouldn't be there!"
"It's my class!"
"And it's the first time you came, right?" Adrien shoots back, then shakes his head, mumbling. "This isn't how it was supposed to go."
"What do you mean?"
He blushes— and Marinette almost engraves the memory into her mind. He's awkward and nervous, and it's almost a stark difference from the cool and collected model she'd sketched just a few moments ago.
Adrien coughs to himself. "The first time you see me nude."
Marinette grins. Opportunities to tease him are far and in-between, so of course she's going to take full advantage of it. "There are going to be other times?"
His face looks scorching. "I mean… if you'd like there to be!" He says quickly, almost tripping over his words. "You need to make another sketch, right? I can help… if you're okay with that… it's probably good that it's still me, after all! And…"
Cute. So painstakingly cute.
(The model earlier seems like a character of complete fiction.)
"I'd love to," she finally says, grinning. "But as I said earlier, I'm waiting on a first date."
Adrien almost looks disappointed, before Marinette continues.
"So pick me up for dinner?"
He's glowing.
"I'd absolutely love to."
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end notes—
i was so hesitant to post this bc of the aged-up-characters-and-sexual-content-in-fics discourse, but i dont think this was explicit in any way, so hopefully this doesn't offend anyone ;n; the intent was for humor, and nothing else !
anw, i have to say i respect nude models a lot ! it's rlly hard to be an art model bc you have to stay still in both pose and expression, n nude models also have to be fully comfortable w expressing themselves completely + all possible mental n physical (at times) risks that come w that ! i just think they're Neat and i admire their confidence n dedication3 but yEA:
thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～