Chapter Text
“Hey, chaton?” Marinette called, pushing open her studio door out to the hall and peeking out. Adrien turned to her from his perch at the couch, his attention drawn away from whatever show he was watching with the kwamis. “Rose and Juleka’s pipes burst.”
“Oh?” His eyes widened. “That’s terrible.”
“Yeah. It’s okay, I think. They shut off the water and a plumber’s working on it. But… we were all going to hang out at their place tonight, and we didn’t want to cancel, so I told them we could have Girls’ Night here, instead. Is that okay?”
“Oh. Of course!” He smiled. “I know you were looking forward to it. That’s no problem.”
“Yeah,” she chuckled, “It’s just been so long. It’s hard to work around all of our schedules…”
“Well, don’t worry about me. I can get out of your hair,” he said with confidence, puffing his chest out with a big silly grin. “You won’t even know I’m here! Cats are very good at hiding, you know.”
“Mhmm.” She rolled her eyes, unable to hide her smile. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem. I’m sure they’d love to see you.”
“What?” His eyes practically sparkled, and she resisted a laugh. “Am I invited?”
“If you want to be? Sure. You don’t have to join, but I mean, you’re a co-host. They can’t exactly uninvite you.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose…” he said cautiously, in that way of his that could never quite mask his longing.
Honestly, she’d been worried about the get-together being too loud, that maybe he’d want to turn in early tonight and it’d keep him up, or just the general inconvenience of your living quarters being seized by a last-minute party. She hadn’t even considered the real worst outcome— Adrien holing himself away in the bedroom, hearing their laughter through the walls, and feeling excluded.
Adrien always loved opportunities to be around friends, and the title of “Girls’ Night” had always been more of an observation than a rule. Ivan had joined in the last time they met at Mylène’s, and she knew very well that he wouldn’t be any imposition at all.
“Okay, fine,” she declared, “I’ve changed my mind. I’m officially making you join.”
He beamed.
*****
“Adrien!” Rose cheered as she entered the apartment, throwing her arms around him and kissing each of his cheeks, which he returned. “It’s so good to see you! Are you joining us?”
“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Mylène offered, shooting him a sympathetic look. “We’d understand.”
“He has to,” Marinette said, as Juleka entered and greeted him as well, “I’m making him.”
“Oh,” Alix snorted, lugging multiple boxes of what seemed like alcohol towards the kitchen island. She grunted as she set them down. “So Adrien’s finally one of the girls?”
He was more than happy to be ‘one of the girls’. He had been expecting to spend the evening alone, and instead, he was surrounded by friends. What was there to not like about that?
“I don’t mind,” he was quick to clarify, “Really!”
“Of course,” Alya laughed, greeting him with a quick hug. “I would’ve brought Nino for you to play with, but he’s got something in the morning.”
He snorted. “I think I can manage without him, but thanks for trying.”
She patted his back, and made her way over to Zoé.
“Is that everyone?” he asked Marinette, eyes drifting over all the women in their living room.
“Should be. Kagami couldn’t make it.”
“So—” Alix clapped her hands together, drawing everyone’s attention. “Ladies! Let’s get this party started. Who wants a beer?”
Adrien opened his mouth to respond—
“Ladies and Adrien?” Zoé corrected carefully, like she didn’t want him to feel excluded. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind.
“Don’t mind me!” he said with a chuckle, raising his hand to rub at the back of his neck. He didn’t want to stand out, or for them to have to adjust their language to accommodate him. “Just, uh, consider me one of the ladies?”
“Yeah, obviously that’s what I meant,” Alix said, “Adrien’s one of the ladies. … So take a beer!” she called, tossing a can his way, and he scrambled to catch it. “Be careful with that one. Might erupt.”
“Oh,” he cleared his throat, as some of the other girls collected their own cans. “Thanks, Alix.”
After a moment of hesitation, he reached for the tab—
Marinette plucked the aluminum from his hands. “Adrien, you don’t have to drink it.”
“I’m fine with drinking it,” he defended.
“You hate beer.”
“Yeah, but—” he began, before the words died on his tongue. He didn’t know why he was going to argue. She was right. But it had seemed rude, to not appreciate what was given to him.
“Oh, you don’t want beer, huh?” Alix said, a devious look in her eye, “Guess I’ll just have to whip something else up for you.”
He blinked.
“Or maybe he just doesn’t want to drink tonight,” Mylène offered, “Like me and Zoé?”
“I can drink,” he clarified, “I just, ah… don’t like the taste of beer.”
“Don’t do it, Adrien,” Alya scoffed, “Alix’s drinks are poison. If you value your life, you’d refuse.”
“What? No they’re not!” Alix groaned, “You guys are just weak! Adrien can totally handle it. Right, Adrien?”
Well…
“Alya’s right,” Marinette told him, “Seriously. Remember last year, when I had that hangover so bad you had to take care of me all day? You have Alix to thank for that.”
“Maybe you’re just a lightweight,” he couldn’t help but tease, shooting her a smirk.
She scoffed. “I know for a fact you’re one, too.”
Okay, well now he had to. And judging by the roll of his lady’s eyes, Marinette knew exactly what she’d done. With a grin, he turned his attention back to Alix. “Hit me.”
The crowd collectively groaned.
“YES!” Alix cheered, snatching some glasses from the cabinets. “You know how long it’s been since I’ve had a chance to do this?”
“Yeah, because all of us know better,” Alya argued, “You’re taking advantage of his ignorance.”
“No ignorance about it, Adrien’s a fully grown woman capable of making her own decisions,” Alix declared as she poured who knew what into a glass.
Huh.
“Alix,” Marinette warned, crossing her arms. “That’s enough teasing.”
“Hm.” Alix didn’t even look up from her concoction. “Well, I’m sure he doesn’t mind.”
He really didn’t.
“Yeah.” He turned to Marinette, shooting a smile. “I don’t mind.”
*****
Fire seemingly erupted down his throat, searing his flesh as though he’d guzzled pure acid. Coughing into his arm wasn’t enough— and neither was the careful hand patting at his back.
“We warned you,” Marinette deadpanned, seated right beside him on the couch.
“About—” he coughed, his voice rough, “—what? It’s—” Cough. “Great.”
It was terrible.
“I didn’t take you for the stubborn type, Adrien,” Mylène chuckled.
“Oh,” Marinette began, and he could hear the way she rolled her eyes. “You have no idea.”
“Like I said,” Alix added in, “You’re all just weak.”
“You don’t even drink your drinks, Alix,” Alya pointed out.
“Yeah, so what?”
“Aw, Adrien!” Rose cooed, “You don’t have to prove anything to us.”
“I love it,” Adrien declared through his teeth, taking another sip just to prove a point and destroy his throat a second time. This time, with his face scrunched and his muscles taut, he’d been steeled enough to not start choking as his insides were disintegrated.
“Yikes,” Zoé helpfully added. Indeed.
“Anyway.” He cleared his throat. … And cleared his throat. … And cleared his throat some more. Marinette patted his back again. “What, ahem— what do you guys usually do for Girls’ Night?”
“Besides avoid Alix’s drink like the plague?” Mylène chuckled. “Oh, you know. Paint each other’s nails. Do each other’s makeup. Pillow fight and talk about secrets and boys.”
The girls laughed.
“Oh.” He perked up. “That sounds fun.”
For some reason, the laughter stopped, and everyone turned to look at him. He opted to take another sip of poison, if it meant avoiding how out of place he felt.
“It does?” Zoé asked.
“Um—” He coughed, unsure if his face was hot from embarrassment or the alcohol. At least he could blame it on the latter. “Ye— yeah. I’ve— uh— never done any of that before?”
Or, well, maybe he had. He had some old, fuzzy memories of Chloé practicing makeup on him back when they were tots, but he wasn’t sure that counted. Once he said it, though, it sounded kind of stupid—
“It is fun!” Rose sighed, and he felt some relief from the tension in his shoulders, “When was the last time we painted each other’s nails? I miss doing that.”
Juleka mumbled.
“Yeah!” Rose agreed with her with a nod. “Doing each other’s makeup sounds fun, too.”
“I guess?” Mylène chewed her cheek. “Alix never liked it, though.”
Alix shrugged. “If Adrien wants to do it, let’s do it.”
Alya’s eyes widened. “Really? You always complained—”
“Like I said, if Adrien wants to, it’s fine.”
“But does he actually want to?” Zoé asked, before turning to him, “Really, Adrien, we don’t have to. We can always just watch a movie or play some party games.”
“I…” He blinked, turning to look across the sea of eyes staring at him. “Um… Whatever you guys want is fine.”
Alya started, “I was actually looking forward to some Jackbo—”
“Nails and makeup first,” Alix declared, and Rose cheered.
The warmth beside him disappeared as Marinette stood to her feet. “Uh, alright. I guess I’ll see what I have?”
As the tail-end of her disappeared down into the hallway, Mylène spoke up, “So, what? Are we going to talk about boys too? I was joking about that.”
“We already mentioned Nino,” Adrien couldn’t help but say, his mood brightening at the snickers it got him. “We got it covered.”
“And what about the secrets?” A playful look glinted in Rose’s eye. She leaned forward from her spot on her chair, eyes on him. “Are you good at keeping secrets, Adrien? You haven’t been vetted yet!”
“Oh, he’s real good at keeping secrets,” Alix snorted, “Trust me.”
Adrien couldn’t help but stiffen, just a bit, and a moment of silence hung over everyone. The girls turned to look at her, waiting for her to explain.
“What? I’m a time traveler? Remember? I know a lot of things about you guys.”
“That’s ominous,” Zoé muttered.
“Point is, Adrien’s definitely vetted.”
“Thanks,” Adrien deadpanned, before taking another sip of his evil potion to ease his nerves.
“I know some stuff about you guys that you don’t even know about yourselves yet,” Alix added, and Adrien kept his eyes on his drink, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down his spine.
Juleka muttered.
“Juleka!” Rose gasped, “Don’t ask that! I don’t want to know!”
“Yeah, I’m not telling you guys when you die. Or anything, for that matter. No spoilers.”
Juleka sighed, and Marinette returned from the hall. The contents of her arms— various colors of nail polish and various types of makeup— dropped onto the table with a clatter.
“This is what I have,” she began to explain, righting some of the toppled containers, “I have a lot of nail polish, some new, but some of it might be pretty old and thick by now. Also, I honestly don't have a lot of makeup? I’ve been meaning to buy more, but I recently dumped a bunch that expired.”
“Makes sense. Makeup’s not much use if you’re never awake early enough to put it on,” Alya snorted.
Marinette huffed, turning her nose up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I totally wake up very early in the mornings on all days and have never overslept in my life.” She turned to Adrien, a wonderful smile tugging her lips as she batted his eyelashes at him. “Right, Adrien?”
“Oh, of course,” he lied easily with a smile, leaning in close and batting his lashes right back, “Marinette is great at all things, and completely flawless.”
Marinette’s smile only brightened, Alya rolled her eyes, and Alix snorted, “Gay.”
Marinette shot her a look. “Really, Alix?”
“I said what I said.” Alix grinned. “Flirting at Girls’ Night is pretty gay.”
“Girls love to flirt with girls at Girls’ Night,” Rose sighed happily, her arm draping around Juleka.
“I don’t know anything girlier than being a girl flirting with girls at Girls’ Night,” Zoé added with a crooked smile.
“Man,” Adrien snorted, feeling warm as he picked the eyeliner from the pile, “I love being a girl.”
*****
Adrien looked very pretty.
His smile was completely uninhibited, free, as he leaned in close to the mirror and inspected his face, not for the first time that night. He held his chin between his fingers as he turned his head, the mirror reflecting his wonderfully painted nails— a metallic green that shone different shades depending on the angle of the light.
He felt so euphoric.
“Don’ make me,” he slurred, turning to Marinette— or perhaps he spun, if the way the world lurched around him was any indication. He tried to blink away the dizziness. “I’m too pretty.”
She laughed, and her laugh was beautiful, just as beautiful as she was. He added, “Like you.”
“Yes, you’re very pretty,” she agreed, eyes soft as she looked him up and down, “But you won’t be in the morning if you don’t wash all that off your face.”
“Cat-eye,” he argued, very succinctly, the best argument he’d ever made in his life. He turned back to the mirror, leaning back in until his nose pressed against the glass and he lost focus on the face in front of him. The eyeliner that Juleka had given him was purrfect. He repeated, forcefully, “Cat-eye.”
“Yes, you’ve said it a thousand times already,” she snorted, “Seriously, though. It’s time for bed. I don’t want you passing out on me.”
“Cat-eyes like these need a dress,” he slurred very smartly, because it was true.
“Where would you get a dress at a time like this?” Marinette rolled her eyes. “You’re going to bed.”
“You have dresses.”
“I doubt they’d fit you.”
He paused. “Make me one.”
“Oh, yeah? You want me to whip you up a dress, right now? In the middle of the night? Just like that?”
He thought about it. “Yes.”
She rolled her eyes again and snatched some kind of cloth from the counter. Or maybe it was a wipe. Like a baby wipe. Actually, it looked like one of her makeup wipes— oh.
“Cat-eye,” he argued again with a whimper, as she closed in on him.
“You can put on some new cat-eyes tomorrow.”
His eyes widened. “I can?”
“Sure?”
That was nice. And very good. He laughed, because he hadn’t thought about that before. What was stopping him from putting on cat-eyes all the time? He could do that. He didn’t need Juleka.
“Stop laughing!” she laughed herself as she wiped away his beautiful cat-eyes. “I’m going to poke your eye out!”
He laughed harder, squeezing his eyes tight as she scrubbed at his face. Once she was done, she tossed the wipe aside, and he turned to look at himself in the mirror again.
He pouted. “No cat-eye.”
“No cat-eye,” she agreed solemnly.
“I’m not as pretty.”
“Oh, you’re always pretty.” She stood up on her tippy-toes to press a kiss to his cheek.
“I was the prettiest girl at Girls’ Night,” he sighed sadly.
She rolled her eyes once again, grabbing a new wipe to clean off her own makeup, which had been very deftly and expertly put on by his very steady and definitely sober hand, and made her look very pretty. “Uh-huh.”
Wait! He gasped. “Other than you!”
She laughed. “Okay, Adrien.”
“An’ all the other girls, too,” he slurred, “Everyone’s pretty.”
“Yes, Adrien. Thank you.”
“We’re all the prettiest girls…”
“I’ll be sure to tell them all,” she snorted, tossing her wipe away and tugging him out of the bathroom and to their room. “Bed now. Okay?”
“Ok’y,” he sighed, because lying down did sound really nice right about now…
“Don’t forget your clothes,” she chided, and he stumbled over to the dresser very obediently, because he was a good girl. She hummed thoughtfully. “Actually, I’ll be right back.”
She left the room, and he managed to fight his way out of his clothes and began to rifle through the drawers. Actually…
He poked around through Marinette’s stuff until he found one of her night dresses. Maybe he didn’t have his cat-eyes right now, but a dress was still better than nothing. He slipped it on…
It was too tight. Didn’t fit. Too uncomfortable. He groaned.
“What are you doing?” came a voice that he hadn’t really expected and couldn’t see, the fabric of Marinette’s gown stuck between his arms and covering his sight as he worked to take it off.
“Pajamas,” he said simply. Because that made it make sense. He struggled a little, shucking the tight fabric off of him and to the ground. He looked towards the voice.
“Man, you really are drunk,” Plagg snorted, “You forget which clothes are yours?”
He rolled his eyes and stumbled back over to his own drawer. Fine. Maybe his clothes weren’t as pretty as he felt right now, but they were good enough.
The door creaked, welcoming the sound of footsteps. He blinked, looking to see Marinette padding into the room and towards his side of the bed. There, she placed a tall glass of water and a bottle of pills at his nightstand.
She turned to him and raised a brow. “For the morning.”
He grunted and grabbed one of his pajama shirts. It was a struggle to put on, and he was starting to get dizzy, so he decided he didn’t want to go through the effort of putting on pants.
“Why’re my pajamas on the ground?”
“I’unno,” he slurred, climbing into the sheets and snuggling up into the pillow.
Soon, Marinette was climbing into bed right with him, and he couldn’t help but stare at her. She was so pretty. Just like him.
“Now sleep,” she snorted, her eyes crinkling as they met his, “You’ll feel so much worse in the morning.”
“T’night was fun,” he sighed.
“Yeah, I could tell you liked it.”
“I like being a girl.”
She chuckled. “I wasn’t expecting you to latch onto Alix’s joke so much.”
“‘s not a joke,” he murmured, closing his eyes, “I like being a girl.”
He really did.
Actually, no— she really did. Right? Yeah, that sounded right, too. She liked being a girl. Being a girl was nice and it felt right. Just as right as being a guy did. Maybe even moreso, for the moment.
“That’s the alcohol talking,” Marinette snorted.
“I’ve always been a li’l jealous,” she admitted.
“... Of what?”
“That you get to be a girl,” she murmured, “and I don’t.”
Except, she did now. Now she could. Because it was still Girls’ Night, and she was one of the girls. Could she still be a girl after Girls’ Night? She wasn’t sure. Probably not.
Marinette didn’t say anything for a long moment, and Adrien almost thought she’d fallen asleep.
“Are you… serious?” Marinette asked, her tone less funny than before.
“I alw’ys wanted to be,” she slurred. Was that right? She’d never really thought about it before, not in such simple words, but it sounded right. It definitely rang true. Maybe she wouldn’t have worded it that way sober, not out loud, but she’d definitely thought it.
“You’ve…” Marinette whispered, “... wanted to be a girl? Even… Even before— I mean— sober?”
She nodded, the action just a bit dizzying. She didn’t hear anything else, after that, the world starting to drift away.