Chapter Text
Of all the ways Marinette had expected to spend her first day of university, being locked in an uncomfortably small broom closet with her crush pressed against her back hadn’t originally featured on her itinerary.
Akuma attacks always warranted a little deviation from the plan, though. The next logical deviation would have been to transform and fight said akuma, but that idea died the moment she realized that the closet she’d chosen was already occupied by one Adrien Agreste.
After a moment of stunned staring, the door shut behind her just before she could catch it, enveloping the diminutive closet in inky black.
“Hey,” said Adrien.
“H-Hi,” she responded.
This was awkward. It would be awkward regardless of who she’d found hiding here, of course, but her mortification was amplified by being in close quarters with her years-long crush of all people.
With a stuttered apology slipping from her lips, Marinette offered him a tight smile, planning to exit the closet and flee in search of some other dark and secluded place to transform. A place that wasn't already inhabited by her very tall (and very handsome) good friend.
That is…until she jiggled the door handle and discovered it wouldn’t move.
Oh no.
Her eyes widened. The blood in her veins ran cold.
As she pried the door handle, Marinette felt her heart sink as a wave of anxiety rushed under her skin. Yep, definitely locked. She tried the handle again, only releasing it from her grasp when she was sure it wouldn’t budge.
Great, she thought, pressing her forehead against the door in defeat. Perfect, actually. This couldn’t have gone better.
"It's locked," she whined.
Adrien stilled behind her. A sudden tension filled the air as he muttered, "Uh oh."
"Uh oh," she echoed.
Uh oh indeed.
They couldn't do much about their predicament besides wait for rescue. The door was locked tight, and neither of them were strong enough or had enough space to try to force it open. Still, she jerked the handle again, jostling it with a tiny flicker of hope that it would click free and release them from their impromptu prison.
...It didn't work.
A quiet string of curses fell from her mouth. Then Marinette sighed, giving the door a kick for good measure. "Stupid,” she muttered.
"I don't think that abusing the door is going to work, Marinette," Adrien said, sounding amused, though he undoubtedly felt as uncomfortable as she did.
She didn't answer. There was no way she could. Not when he was close enough that she could feel the heat of his breath on her neck and smell the faint aroma of his Gabriel-brand cologne, faded from hours of wear yet still agonizingly tempting to her senses.
(She would not think about nosing her way into his neck to get a better whiff, and she most definitely would never fantasize about knowing whether his skin tasted as sweet as it smelled.)
Desperate to transform (and keep her hands to herself), Marinette pounded on the door with her fists, but the roar of the Akuma and terrified screams of Parisians drowned out any hope she had of being heard.
“Ladybug should purify the Akuma soon,” Adrien reassured her. Though she couldn’t see him, she could feel him, all warm and inviting (and kissable, too.) His voice was right against her ear, and his breath was warm as it fanned across her cheek.
Not if I don’t get out of here, she thought bitterly.
Adrien shifted behind her, moving his leg, accidentally kneeing her in the rear. She yelped before she could stop herself, clamping a hand over her mouth to muffle her squeak of surprise.
“Sorry,” he murmured. “My foot is falling asleep.”
“I-it’s okay,” Marinette said. “Maybe, um…maybe Chat Noir will find us?”
Adrien’s answering silence was deafening.
…Yeah. Even if her partner could locate them with his amplified hearing, he wasn’t even aware she needed rescue. Besides, the Akuma raging across the city took priority over helping random civilians. Which meant that they could be stuck for hours.
Together.
Alone.
In a dark, cramped space with nothing but mundane conversation to entertain them.
…Haha.
Marinette swallowed hard.
Ugh. To think she had just wanted one normal day! One day to be nothing more than a new university student learning her schedule, meeting her classmates, and trying to make a good impression on her professors. Whatever. At least she could count being cramped in a closet with her crush as a positive.
(Or at least, she would if she hadn’t needed to transform to go after the Akuma.
But she couldn’t. Not with Adrien here.)
Huffing out an agitated sigh, Marinette thumped her head against the door. It hurt, but not as much as her desperate need to rescue the city from peril. “This is hopeless.”
“It’s not so bad,” Adrien said, his shoulder bumping against hers as he shrugged. “I’d hate to be stuck in here by myself.”
Oh, Adrien, you sweet sunshine boy, she thought. I adore you, but you have no idea how much I would prefer to be alone right now.
Tikki buzzed against her hand, an impatient reminder that she needed to transform now.
Damn it. Marinette knew the clock was ticking. She needed to get out there and face the Akuma before it caused any more damage—before anyone was injured beyond repair. It was her duty as Ladybug, the savior of Paris, to protect the city and its people from harm. Right now, her major priority was to transform, bust down the door, and purify the black butterfly that had poisoned yet another innocent victim. But with Adrien here…
She couldn’t.
A faint whimper rose in the back of her throat.
Hours passed. Or maybe it was minutes—she wasn't sure. She’d left her phone behind in the lecture hall, so she couldn’t exactly check the time. But with every wasted second, she wanted to beat her head against the surface of the door until her brain turned to a gooey, useless mush.
This. Was. Torture.
She knew that the longer she stayed trapped, the more damage spread across the city, and the more people got hurt. While her Miraculous Cure fixed most of the damage, she still wanted to spare innocent civilians from unnecessary trauma.
Marinette groaned. She needed to get out of here! Chat Noir would wonder where she was, probably throwing himself into danger like the reckless cat he was. The city would be in shambles, citizens injured, and—and—
(And she was getting hungry, too. But that wasn't important.)
“Adrien,” she sighed. “I don’t think that we’re getting out of here. Not any time soon.”
His voice was optimistic as he replied, “Give Ladybug time. She’ll fix everything soon.”
“You don’t know that,” she said.
His faith wasn’t swayed. “Yes, I do. Ladybug always fixes everything. She’s amazing like that.”
(She tried to ignore the glaringly obvious affection in his voice in favor of keeping her already dwindling sanity.)
“B-but…” Swallowing, Marinette squeezed her eyes shut tight as a knot of anxiety formed in the pit of her stomach. It was sour and heavy, like a stone coated in toxic sludge. “But what if she can’t get to the fight? W-what if she’s trapped somewhere? Like you and me?”
"She'd figure a way out," he said. "She always does."
"But what if she can't?" she insisted, cringing at her voice cracking. "What if she's trapped somewhere—a utility closet, for example—and can't transform because…because her identity is at stake?"
Adrien was quiet for a long moment. So long that she wasn’t sure if he would speak at all. Then, with a sudden breathlessness to his voice, he asked, “Is she stuck in a utility closet, Marinette?”
Her heart raced. “I-I don’t know. She could be.”
“...Maybe Chat Noir is too, then,” he said.
She didn’t have time to dwell on that statement.
Impatient, Marinette kicked the door hard. It smarted, but that didn’t matter. “Damn it!” she hissed, making Adrien jump. “I have to get out of here! I can’t stay here. I—I’m gonna freak out!”
His hand squeezed her shoulder in a comforting gesture. “I’m sure it won't be much longer. Just breathe. It’ll be okay.”
“No, it won’t!” she exclaimed, exasperated as she pulled at her hair. “Not unless I get out of here! Nothing will be fixed without me. Chat Noir can only hold the Akuma off for so long. He can’t purify it like—”
Like I can.
In the stagnant silence of the closet, she could hear Adrien swallow. “Maybe…maybe Chat Noir isn’t even out there right now,” he breathed.
“Of course he is,” she insisted. “Why wouldn’t he be?”
“Maybe he’s trapped, too,” he said.
Marinette couldn’t entertain this nonsense. She loved Adrien—she truly did—and he had become more than just a crush over the past four years. He was one of her best friends, someone she cherished having in her life.
But she couldn’t deal with his riddles right now. She had to get out of this damn utility closet, transform, and fight the Akuma before the situation got even worse.
Not that it could at this point. Right?
(She hoped that was right.)
Defeated, she slumped against the door, letting out a faint, frustrated whine. Her head was pounding from the stupidity of it all.
She wasn’t mad at Adrien. But damn it, if he hadn’t been in this stupid closet, then she could’ve used her Ladybug-given strength to kick down the door! She might have even purified the Akuma already. Hell, by now, she’d probably be back in class, dutifully taking notes as one of her professors gave an insightful lecture.
But she was still here. With Adrien. Stuck. In a fucking utility closet.
Why had he even gone into the closet in the first place? To hide? Marinette supposed it was plausible.
“Adrien?” she asked, curiosity piqued. “Why did you come in here, anyway?”
Adrien shuffled nervously. “Um.”
Marinette nodded in encouragement. Then, remembering he couldn’t see her, she said, “Yeah?”
“I needed a place to hide, I guess,” he replied.
He was a terrible liar, but what other explanation would make sense?
“What about you?” he asked.
Marinette nibbled anxiously on her lower lip. “Uh…same as you, I guess. Needed to, uh, hide. Yeah. Safety first!”
An uncomfortably thick silence coated the closet walls, making her feel like her gut was full of slime. It was so quiet that she swore Adrien could hear the frantic beating of her heart.
“...Marinette?” said Adrien, his voice soft and hesitant.
“Yes?” she responded, equally quiet.
“What did you mean before? When…when you said that nothing would be fixed without you.”
Fuck.
"I…said that?" she squeaked.
"You did."
…Maybe she didn't have a choice.
Maybe Adrien would forget it happened.
(Maybe he was good at keeping secrets.)
There wasn't any other option, was there? She would have to reveal her identity to another of her friends. Alya had been on her terms, but Adrien—
Well. She couldn't wait any longer. At least Adrien was trustworthy.
(It didn't mean the idea made her feel less stressed, though.)
"A-Adrien," she whispered, hating how her voice trembled, and her hands shook as she gripped her purse strap so hard that her knuckles grew numb. "I-I need you to keep a secret. Okay?"
He was quiet for a long moment. Then he let out a soft, “Okay.”
Seeing no point in delaying further, she called the magic words that brought on her transformation. As the blindingly bright light faded, she half expected Adrien to scream. To gasp in surprise, or- or breathe a sigh of relief that she could get them out, or…or at least say something, anything—
"My Lady," he choked.
—anything other than that.