author's current state of being: smile and optimism? gone

why does writing have to be so HARD? like why can't it just be *makes abstract hand gestures in the air*

you know?

anyway special shoutout to my friend ametsuyu for helping me with this chapter. without her, this would still be languishing in a half-finished state somewhere in the bowels of my google drive.

she is the real MVP.

Chapter Four

Adrien speared a stalk of asparagus, crunching on it angrily as he glared daggers across the table.

That was about the extent of the rebellion he could allow himself, since his father was currently seated at the other end of the table, silently demolishing his egg white omelette with the same militant efficiency he did everything else. He would almost certainly be able to pick up on Adrien's mood, and would no doubt dismiss his displeasure as a side-effect of being forced to spend one of his precious vacation days schmoozing with his father's business associates and their families.

Which, admittedly, was partially true.

Nevertheless, that wasn't the only thing that had Adrien chewing his breakfast like he had woken up with a personal vendetta against all stemmed vegetables.

No, the reason for his upset was currently seated across from him, looking wan as he pushed the healthy but ultimately flavourless meal around on his plate.

Although he was as put together as always—as expected of the scion of the Agreste empire—Félix appeared distinctly green around the gills this morning, a side effect of his undoubtedly raging hangover.

Adrien's eyes narrowed to slits, a grim sense of satisfaction filling him.

Sure, it might have been slightly vindictive, perhaps even unkind to wish ill on his only brother, but after the performance Félix had put on last night, Adrien thought it only fitting that he be made to squirm a little.

Aside from his drunken shenanigans—Adrien very deliberately tried not to think about his favourite pair of shoes, currently lying in their ignoble resting place at the bottom of the garbage bin—Félix had other, far more grievous offences to answer for.

Namely, the look of pure devastation that had flashed across Marinette's face last night when she'd finally clued into what was happening.

Adrien couldn't help but replay the moment in his head, recalling the bright flash of hurt he'd seen in her blue eyes in the instant before she'd been able to mask it. It felt as though it had been permanently etched into the walls of his memory.

It had been brutal to witness because Adrien hated seeing her in pain, and he especially hated it when it involved his dunderhead of a brother, who at every turn managed to throw Marinette's love and devotion back in her face, whether he knew it or not.

Marinette would willingly offer him her bloody and still beating heart if given the chance, and Félix simply didn't give a damn.

Not that Adrien actually wanted Félix to accept her offer. The thought alone was enough to leave him sick to his stomach.

Still, it would have been nice if Félix could at least pretend to be grateful about it. Lord knew that Adrien would gladly offer up any of his limbs and even his firstborn child to be afforded the same opportunity.

The whole situation was endlessly frustrating, and this frustration was what allowed Adrien to give in to his pettier desires that morning.

And so he sat back, and enjoyed watching his older brother attempt to conceal a massive hangover from their father's hawk-like and all-knowing gaze.

"Eat up, Félix," Adrien said, shoving a large forkful of omelette into his mouth. "We've got a long day ahead of us..."

He smiled, making sure to showcase the mouthful of half-chewed egg he was sporting.

The scolding he received for his improper table manners was well worth it, if only for the way the sight of the food between his teeth caused Félix to turn even greener.

-x-

"Adri-kins!" Chloe squealed as he stepped into the grand foyer of the Bourgeois's villa.

He barely had one foot through the door before she was glomming onto his arm, behaving as though they'd been separated for years, rather than a matter of hours.

To his brother, she delivered a perfunctory, "You look like shit," accompanied by a steely once-over that would have felled a lesser individual where they stood.

Félix merely grunted in reply, too exhausted from trying not to hurl during the car ride to muster anything more vitriolic.

Rather than capitalising on her enemy's momentary weakness, as she was normally wont to do, Chloe turned her attention away from his older brother, seemingly satisfied at having won this round in their neverending verbal sparring match.

"Now," she said, clapping her hands excitedly. "You must let me show you these new centrepieces that Mummy and I picked out!"

Without releasing her hold, she tugged Adrien forward, forgoing the greeting line entirely as she led him further into the house. He had just enough time to nod in her father and mother's direction before he was being ushered into the elegant dining room and plunked into his seat.

A seat that was conveniently located right next to hers.

As Chloe continued nattering on beside him, Adrien sighed under his breath, resigning himself to his role as captivated audience member—a role it appeared he would be playing for the duration of their evening.

This… is going to be a very, very long day, he mused, already counting down the hours in his head.

-x-

Before heading to dinner at the Bourgeois's, Adrien and his brother had been hauled about town, carted to various lunches and meetings that Adrien had so little interest in he had almost mastered the ability to fall asleep with his eyes open by the end of the last one.

He made sure to nod and smile and politely answer any questions that were directed his way—of which there were few, seeing how his main role at these meetings was always to sit still and look pretty—all while silently wishing for a swift and merciful end to his suffering.

By the time they'd made it to the Bourgeois's house, Adrien was exhausted. He couldn't even begin to imagine how Félix was feeling. It was a miracle he was still upright.

Yet, as luck would have it, Adrien's day from hell wasn't entirely without its silver lining.

His solace was delivered in the form of one Marinette Dupain-Cheng, which really shouldn't have come as a surprise to anyone.

Although she wasn't able to alleviate his boredom with her physical presence, she'd provided him with the next best thing in the form of the text conversation they had been steadily maintaining all day.

While they would occasionally message back and forth for extended periods of time, they'd never kept a consistent conversation going for quite this long before. Marinette tended to be a horrible texter, often replying hours or sometimes even days later because she either couldn't find her phone, or she simply forgot. It was something that Adrien had learned not to take personally, cataloguing it as one of the many quirks that made up her endearingly chaotic personality.

But not today apparently. Today it seemed like Marinette was as glued to her phone as he was, her messages flying in within moments of his replies being sent. Adrien had almost been caught texting under the table several times already, but he couldn't bring himself to care, so engrossed was he in their conversation. He'd even caught himself grinning like a fool after receiving a particularly hilarious response, which had garnered him a few strange looks from both his brother and Chloe, who were seated beside him at the Bourgeois's long dining room table.

Luckily he wasn't in his father's line of sight, so the chances of him getting into any real trouble were limited. But still, Adrien knew that he should exercise a bit more caution. The last thing he wanted was for his father to confiscate his phone. Then he wouldn't be able to message Marinette at all.

With that in mind, Adrien shoved his phone deep into his pants pocket. Then he grabbed his water glass, downing it in one fell swoop.

If he drank enough water, then perhaps his frequent trips to the bathroom over the course of the evening wouldn't look quite so suspicious. Hopefully.

-x-

Halfway through the second course, Adrien felt his phone buzz against his hip. Unable to ignore its siren song for very long, he slipped it into the palm of his hand when no one was looking.

His face broke into a grin at the message on the screen.

[16:45] Marinette Dupain-Cheng:

hey can we hang out tomorrow?

i have an idea i want to run by you

Adrien brought his napkin to his mouth, pretending to dab the corners of his lips as he tried to wipe the giddy smile off his face.

He nodded along with whatever the person seated across from him was saying, pretending to pay attention as he quickly typed out a reply and hit send.

[17:28] Adrien Agreste:

sure thing!

what time works for you?

Now he had even more of a reason to look forward to this day being over.

-x-

In hindsight, Adrien really should have realised what she was up to long before Marinette managed to corner him.

After all, he was normally pretty good at sussing out her schemes—the benefit of an entire childhood's worth of experience in dealing with her machinations. This inherent paranoia had served him well on multiple occasions over the years.

It had saved him from The Great Treehouse debacle, along with a lifetime of GI issues that her brief foray into baking could have caused. Not to mention preventing him from meeting his watery end on the sad excuse for a jet ski her father was continually 'fixing'.

Up until now, he'd had the utmost confidence in his sense of self-preservation.

And yet, these fabled, well-honed instincts had evaporated when he needed them most; abandoning him in the face of Marinette's pretty, pretty blue eyes, and her sweet-talking mouth.

Which was how Adrien found himself in his current predicament, hedged in by water on three sides, staring down the barrel of Marinette Dupain-Cheng's completely unhinged proposition, and reconciling with how well and truly screwed he was.

"Let me get this straight," he stared at their clasped hands, willing himself not to hold on too tightly. It wouldn't do for Marinette to discover just how desperately he needed a lifeline to navigate the treacherous waters of this conversation.

He tried to focus on the way her fingers tapered elegantly at the ends, rather than the sheer, overwhelming terror trying to claw its way out of his chest.

"You're suggesting that I have a fling." Finally mustering the courage to meet her eyes, Adrien had to summon every ounce of composure he possessed to keep from choking on his next words.

"With you."

Marinette leaned back slightly, her expression mildly affronted.

"Yes with me," she said, sounding increasingly annoyed. "What's wrong, am I not good enough to pretend to date you? Do you think people won't buy that we could possibly have romantic feelings for one another?"

Adrien clenched his jaw and looked away, unwilling to let her see just how deep of a blow she'd landed with those words. He had to remind himself that Marinette wasn't deliberately setting out to hurt him with this proposition. She had no idea how he felt, otherwise she would have known that what she was proposing was the single most agonising scenario imaginable.

Still, Adrien couldn't bring himself to dismiss the idea outright, despite the fact that both his head and his heart were screaming at him to run for the hills and not look back.

"That's… not it." He said at last, rubbing the back of his neck with the hand that wasn't currently entwined with hers. "I just really don't think this is a good idea. How can you even be sure this will work?"

"I'm not," Marinette answered honestly, her desperation plain. "But I have to try something. I can't let this summer end and still be left wondering what if. This is it... This is my last chance, and I need your help."

She clenched his hand unconsciously as she spoke, her slim digits slotting themselves more firmly into the groves between his fingers, as though the spaces there had been carved just for her.

And just like that, Adrien felt the last of his resistance crumble away, reduced to dust in the face of her earnest plea.

Perhaps sensing his brief moment of weakness, Marinette pressed on, her words tumbling forth in a rush.

"Besides, what do we really have to lose?" She added with a laugh, her countenance brightening now that she had apparently convinced him to go along with her plans.

"If anything, this will help us both in the long run. It'll show Félix that I am girlfriend material, and it will help you get your groove back. And you know what they say—" Here she winked, levelling him with an enthusiastic and completely unironic snap and finger gun combo. "—the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else."

Adrien gaped at her in disbelief.

…..did she really just say that?

Marinette stared back at him, apparently rendered mute.

OH MY GOD SHE REALLY JUST SAID THAT.

For a moment, Adrien genuinely wasn't certain who was more mortified out of the two of them. Marinette, for having said such a corny and overtly suggestive line, or him for having had to bear witness to it.

In the end, he decided that they could comfortably call it a tie, based on the bright red flush that had overtaken Marinette's features, and the unbearable heat he felt prickling his own skin.

She began babbling, undoubtedly deeply invested in recovering some semblance of her dignity, but Adrien found himself unable to tune back into her words, too preoccupied with contemplating all of the possibilities her statement had managed to dredge up in his brain. And the corresponding mental images.

Marinette pressed underneath him, her body warm and soft and pliant—

His face grew even warmer.

"ANYWAY—" Marinette cut in loudly, successfully breaking him out of his brain fog. Adrien sent up a quick prayer that the lecherous direction his thoughts had taken hadn't been too obvious.

"—I don't see how anything could go too terribly awry. We'd both be going into this with our eyes open and our cards on the table. It's not like we're hiding anything."

Adrien's eyes widened, panic setting in as a new thought occurred.

There's no way she knows, right?

Marinette leaned closer and his breathing picked up.

If she only knew how much he was really hiding, there was no way she'd be able to gaze into his eyes with such warmth and openness.

"Please, Adrien. I can't imagine doing this with anyone else. I don't want to do this with anyone else." She admitted, her voice wavering ever so slightly. "You're the only person I can trust to help me with this. Please."

She squeezed his hand, imploring him with her eyes.

And, just like the Roman Empire in 476 AD, Adrien could do nothing but fall.

I can't believe I'm seriously considering doing this, he thought, torn between wanting to laugh and cry in equal measure. This is a horrible idea. This is the most horrible idea in the HISTORY of horrible ideas.

"So, just so we're clear here: you want to hook up with me in order to make my brother jealous, which will allegedly also come with the additional benefit of signalling to everyone that I'm over my ex and ready to date someone else?" He asked, hoping that by listing it in explicit terms, she might come to her senses and realise how insane the proposition was on its face.

Marinette merely nodded, her expression resolute.

Okay, he swallowed, very deliberately ignoring his mounting hysteria. So I guess we're doing this.

-x-

Later that night, Adrien flopped down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling as he replayed the events of the last few days over in his mind.

After the fiasco that wound up being Friday's party, he'd known that Marinette might resort to drastic measures. She was single-mindedly focused in her pursuit of his brother, after all, regardless of the fact that this often wound up being to the detriment of both herself and any and all people that happened to be around her.

Still, this plan was… A lot. Even by Marinette's usual standards. She must have been truly desperate to resort to this level of skullduggery.

His mind flashed with the image of her face crumpling when she'd seen Félix with Bridgette. As much as it stung to consider how deeply her feelings for his brother ran, it had been equally agonising just witnessing her distress. She was hurting, and if there was anything that Adrien hated in the world, it was seeing Marinette get hurt.

Perhaps that was why he'd been so quick to agree to help her, despite knowing on every level that this plan of hers was a capital B Bad Idea.

That's not the only reason, and you know it. A small voice pointed out, and Adrien rolled over, trying in vain to smother it.

Okay, so maybe his motives weren't entirely altruistic for agreeing to date her. But was it so wrong of him to leap at the chance to date the girl of his dreams?

The voice remained silent and Adrien huffed, dissatisfied.

Although he might not want to, Adrien could certainly acknowledge that the potential for catastrophe with this plan was astronomical. If he was going to agree to go into this, then he would have to make sure to stay one step ahead of Marinette at all times, lest any of his secrets come to light before he was ready to reveal them.

Like the fact that he was hopelessly in love with her, and he'd even gone so far as to date another girl in a vain attempt to both get over her and make her jealous.

"This is so messy…" Adrien groaned into his pillow, fisting his hands in the back of his hair. After the catastrophic failure that was his relationship with Kagami, Adrien had never felt less confident in his ability to woo a woman. And now he was being presented with the golden opportunity he'd been waiting for—the chance to get to date Marinette and make her realise how perfect the two of them would be together.

It was both exhilarating and terrifying. High risk, high reward.

And oh, the rewards there were to be had.

Adrien's mind went back to the kiss he and Marinette had shared earlier on the dock, the magic of the moment still lingering as he recalled the way they stood suspended in the sunbeams.

He'd been surprised that Marinette had gone along with his seemingly flimsy excuse of them just figuring out their feelings for one another were reciprocated. As far as cover stories went, it certainly wasn't his best, and Adrien had been convinced that Marinette would see right through him immediately. Hell, he'd half expected her to toss him into the water the moment he'd reversed their positions, and pressed her up against the wooden rail of the gazebo.

Yet, she hadn't.

Instead, Marinette had gazed up at him wide-eyed, her face slackening with surprise, and if he wasn't mistaken, the tiniest hint of intrigue as well.

Adrien had waited with bated breath, giving her plenty of opportunity to back out, even as his heart pounded out a frantic rhythm in his chest, screaming at him to lean forward and do what he'd been dreaming of for the better part of his life.

Up until the moment their lips finally touched, he'd been waiting for something, anything to happen that might indicate that what he was experiencing had only been a dream after all.

Because there was no way that he was standing hand in hand with Marinette Dupain-Cheng, kissing her for the very first time.

He hadn't been able to bring himself to bridge any more of the gap between them, leaving their only points of contact their joined hands and their lips, softly brushing.

If he allowed himself to give in to his desire to melt into her and crush her body to his, Adrien feared that he might never be able to uncross that line and go back to the way things were. That he would forever leave some part of himself inextricably linked to her, deeply embedded in whatever material their souls were made of, the same way she was sewn into his.

As it was, Adrien already knew that a cosmic shift had taken place at the core of his being, and that every moment after that point would be defined by the fact that he now knew the taste of her lips, and the sound of the soft huff she let out through her nose when he leaned into her ever so slightly.

Adrien squeezed the pillow tighter, feeling his face grow warm at the memory.

So maybe this whole situation isn't entirely without its benefits…

If they were to fake-date, there would be plenty of opportunities for all of the things that he'd always dreamed of doing with Marinette, like holding hands, and going on dates.

He rubbed a hand over his mouth, his lips still tingling.

And more kissing. There could be plenty of that too.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, after all. Maybe, if he played his cards right, he could somehow manage to make the most of this unexpected arrangement and find a way to turn it around in his favour. He'd basically made a career of hiding his true intentions up until this point, so how hard could this be?

All he had to do was make Marinette fall out of love with his brother, and into love with him, all within the span of two weeks.

And without revealing the nature of his own subversively devious plans.

"I am screwed," Adrien breathed, his words catching on a hysterical laugh. "I am royally and unequivocally screwed."

-x-

notes:

adrien, my sweet bb boy, you have absolutely no idea what you've just signed yourself up for.

but I DO.

wuahahahhaa

next chapter: a duel and a date. of sorts.

this work has been cross-posted from AO3