A/N: A Lonely Bar Giveaway gift for gothfoxx on tumblr. Fic inspired by 1975 song Anobrain.

x

"Who did you think I was talking about?"

"Hmm?" She murmured, fist clenched over the comforter over his heart.

She was exhausted, poor bug.

Identity reveals could do that to a person. It was only luck (his abominable, abominable luck) that he had the extra weeks to digest the information before bringing it forward.

After all, how fair was it that he knew and she didn't? Not at all considering he was a sprawling, crawling mess over it while she smiled and teased and stood oblivious in the moonlight.

Marinette, I know, was admittedly not the most graceful way he could have eased her into the reveal but Chat Noir was never really a planner.

Needless to say, patrol had been cancelled in light of his confession.

Especially when he dropped his own transformation leading his lady into a panic attack that he was (not) dwelling on because that lead him spiraling into thoughts like does she hate me and am i a disappointment to her too which were not fair to his partner who was Dealing and whose anxieties did not revolve around or limit themselves to himself.

(Therapy, no matter what his father said, was doing him wonders.)

So he sat with her and breathed with her and soothed with her until the tightness had passed and they could sit together, side by side, and confront this newest obstacle as they did everything else.

Side by side.

And now, hours later, as he lay with his exhausted partner in her bedroom, his content-drunk anxious heart was set on getting the answers he wasn't allowed to seek over these last several weeks.

Like how badly had he fucked up?

"When I asked you for advice before," He croaked softly, nearly swallowing his tongue. "A-about dating. As Adrien. Who did you think I was talking about?"

He was sure she could feel his racing heart beneath her palm but she didn't move away. He ventured a look towards her face to see that her eyes were still closed, as if she were poised on the edge of sleep.

Her fingers lightly tapping over his chest told him she wasn't.

"Does it matter?" Marinette asked, voice quiet.

"It does."

It really, really does.

Because Adrien had been replaying their last everything over the past several weeks. Combing over every moment, every missed opportunity, to see if there was something he missed. Something that would have made the realization that his lady was behind him all along less earth shattering. Something that would have proven him less the idiot than he currently knew he was.

And there was nothing. Nothing to find solace in. Nothing, not one moment, where he could point and say hah! See? How could I have seen her when all things are considered.

But he had considered all of the things. And every thread lead him back to the same conclusion-

He was an idiot.

And as if this monumental revelation wasn't enough- Adrien thought he'd at least have some sense on his side - it'd come to his attention that perhaps Ladybug's mystery boy wasn't quite as mysterious as he'd thought.

Which lead him down another silent picture show of every moment he'd shared with his maskless partner only to come to the skin shriveling realization that in the not so distant past Adrien Agreste had sat Marinette Dupain-Cheng down and - in what he thought was no uncertain terms but was starting to suspect was devastatingly misleading - asked her to wingman for him.

She's special. Very pretty. She's got dark silky hair, deep and mysterious eyes.

And as these events, mortifying and sweet and oblivious, rolled through his mind, Chat feared he was beginning to understand just why his confession about Kagami had flustered her so much.

"I really don't know, Chat." She finally said, proving him right.

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

"Buginette-"

Her hands tightened over his chest again stopping him short.

"I know."

"I'm so-"

Marinette's eyes snapped open and she quickly raised on her side over him. A sleepy, red-cheeked scowl holding him in place.

"It's been a long night, Adrien." She said, a little mortified and a lot tired. "I really don't want to talk about this."

Chat stiffened beneath her before nodding his silent agreement. Knowing what was now too much for one night, he held back the words and feelings and apologies that burbled in his throat. He was thankful then that she didn't have night vision to see the way his ears drooped or skin pinkened with her… well, it wasn't quite a rejection.

But it sure felt like one all the same.

Unfortunately, night vision or no, Ladybug knew her partner.

And Marinette knew her friend.

Releasing a sigh, she laid herself back down, shifting closer to rest her head against her guilt-ridden partner's shoulder.

"I'm not going anywhere, minou." She said, finally, breaking the silence. "We have time. No matter what, it's you and me."

She placed her hand open and up against his chest for him to take. Hesitantly, as if worried she might snatch it away, Chat reached up and intertwined her fingers in his own.

"You and me?" He asked, whisper soft.

"You and me."