As purromised, a pretty quick update! This chapter features more funnies, friendship and some Just Dance gameplay. If you'd like to listen along to the songs and/or watch the choreography, I've made a YouTube playlist. FFN won't let me link it, but if you search up Captain_Meowvel on AO3 and go to this chapter on there, the link is included in the starting ANs!

Also, I'd just like to give a big THANK YOU to my guest reviewers and those of you who have PMs disabled. I can't thank you personally like everyone else, but just know that I appreciate every one of your reviews. :D

Recap: Previously, on You Times Two… Maribug was a bit of a depresso espresso, what with the impending Adrigami date and fifth wheeling her friends. That is, until our favourite dude cheered her up with pizza, turtle talk and some good ol' Mario Kart. Of course, her kitty-cat's banana puns might've helped a smidge. But will dustings of Adrigami continue to throw her off? And when Chilluka rocks up, will Jealadrien be far behind?

YOU TIMES TWO
By Captain Meowvel

Chapter Nine

An hour after Adrien's slippery ascent to victory, they turned to Ultimate Mecha Strike III for some more hearty butt-whooping.

With one final zap of an energy beam, the words "KAGAMI WINS" flashed across the screen, and her crimson mecha-tank launched a clawed fist in the air.

"Aw maaan!" Nino dumped his controller on the coffee table. "How could I lose to a total noob?" He froze. "Uh – No offence! You did good, dudette – I mean Kagami!"

Alya clutched her stomach, her cheeks red from laughing. "Nice one, Kagami! You – You really got him good with that – ah – that triple kick hyperstorm combo!"

"Yeah, Kagami!" Adrien nudged her shoulder with his own. "Only your third game and already you're winning!"

Marinette gave a thumbs up. "You're a natural."

Kagami threaded a strand of hair behind her ear, the slightest of blushes grazing her cheeks. "Thank you, everyone. I couldn't have won without Marinette's expert teaching." She bowed her head, her mouth curving into a smile that simply looked like it belonged there.

That small fact made Marinette's own smile double in size.

"But, dudes, I'm sick of UMS."

Alya tapped down the brim of Nino's precious cap. "You're just sick of losing, babe."

Pouting, he straightened his hat. "That's not the point, Al." He bounced to his feet, eyes on Adrien. "Why don't we fire up Just Dance instead? Let's show 'em our swagger!"

Adrien's face practically glowed as he leapt from the sofa, Kagami's hands falling from his arm to her lap. "You're on, Nino!"

"Ha!" Nino flashed his signature finger guns. "On like Donkey Kong!"

With an overly dramatic scoff, Adrien placed a hand to his chest in a decidedly Chat Noir fashion. "Excuse me? Only I have the rights to that line… especially after my ape overthrew our princess." He sent Marinette an over the shoulder wink and naturally, a flush flamed across her face.

While Nino set up Just Dance, Adrien shrugged out of his blazer in one fluid movement and flicked it over the sofa with a ridiculous amount of flair. He rolled his neck, laced his fingers and stretched his arms out before him. Pair that with the fact his polished shoes, snug jeans, and long-sleeved dress shirt were all black and wow, he was but a tail away from his alter ego. The only thing missing was a poorly timed pun. The flush across her face deepened.

Adrien strutted up to the TV. Umber drapes framed the wide balcony doors to his left, swaying with the wind that weaved through the living room to fan his golden hair. With his eyes on the screen, he raised a thoughtful hand to his chin. His fingers were soaked in sunlight, its rays catching his ring at just the right angle to inspire a shine of silver. Buzzfeed had once dubbed this particular pose The Pondering Prince. It was easy to see why on a rainy day. And even easier when sunbeams spilled across his hair like a literal crown of sunshine.

Marinette wasn't staring.

Nope, not at all.

The choruses of classic pop songs cut through the air as Nino cycled through choreographies. She knew the moment a song stood out to Adrien, by the way The Pondering Prince transformed into The Keen Cutie.

An annoyingly catchy melody sprung through the speakers:

'Take me by the tongue and I'll know you. Uh! Kiss me 'til you're drunk and I'll show you—'

The boys exchanged an eager high five, while Marinette bit back a snort. Chat Noir choosing Moves Like Jagger?

"Only you would, Adrien. Silly ca—" Her mouth snapped shut, but his merry eyes were already on her. She went ramrod straight in her seat. "Ca – Can't be used to describe you row—I mean now – no, right now." She shook her head madly. "Or – uh – any time, really. Because you're so great. At moving. With your feet!"

Adrien stared at her. She could almost see the cogwheels turning in his eyes. Hopefully those cogwheels had nothing to do with her slip up and everything to do with interpreting her word vomit. Finally, he graced her with one of his classic, heart-warming smiles. "Thank you, Marinette!"

She threw two thumbs up. "Well done! I mean, welcome!"

To her right, she could just feel concerned eyes on her.

And to her left, Alya facepalmed.

Adrien's soft smile lingered on Marinette for a moment longer, before a "Ready, bro?" brought his attention back to the TV. She sucked in a breath.

That smile. That classic Adrien smile. It was a gentle, shy sort of smile. One that made you feel special. Chat Noir's smile, on the other hand, was silly, cheeky, at times flirty—and had prompted her to groan on several occasions. Totally different, right?

But they were the same person! As classmates, she could probably count the amount of coherent conversations she'd had with him on her hands. But as partners, they were closer than ever. She'd thought of him as one of her dearest friends long before learning his civilian identity. Now, an unpleasant question reared its awful head. Were his smiles wildly different? Or just her reactions to them?

Alya's voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Daaang!" she called, flaunting a smirk. "You boys are pulling out all the stops today. Where've you been hiding those dance moves, Adrien?"

Marinette looked up at the boy in question and saw her friend, Adrien, dancing with the unbridled joy of her partner, Chat Noir.

And Alya's words must've emboldened him, for he broke away from the choreography with a suave spin on the spot. "Come on, Al. You don't actually think I spent home-school doing schoolwork, did you?" As Maroon 5 whistled on, he executed each move with a flawless flourish. To think, this was the same guy who high-fived street signs with his face.

Alya snickered. "Not bad, Blondie. Not bad at all!"

With an achingly familiar bow, he enacted the tipping of a fake top hat. A silent thank you. One with the pizzazz befitting of her partner.

His theatrics brought out a giggle. She'd seen her silly kitty cut a rug, as he liked to call it, more times than she cared to count. On quiet patrols. In the heat of battle. A few months ago, an amateur video of his dancing had even trended online (he'd reminded her for over a week). His timing was never impeccable, but as they'd grown closer, stifling a smile at his zest for interpretive movement had become increasingly tricky.

"Yes!" Nino wheezed, flinging his arm in time with the dancing avatar on the screen. "I'm catching up!" He was so out of breath. "Keep distracting him!"

"Oh Adrien," her bestie proclaimed, as he moonwalked like a professional zombie from Thriller. "Our dazzling King of Swag!" He held a hand to his ear, spurring her on. "Your flow knows no bounds. I must bow before such unrivalled finesse." True to her word, she bowed in her seat.

And boy, did he lap up the praise! He performed a ridiculously smooth body roll, and concluded it with a click of his fingers. His smile was nearly blinding.

That was all the motivation Marinette needed to pop in her own compliment. "In the not so distant future, bards shall sing of our swagtabulous leader's epic freestyling, and their song shall aptly be named Moves Like Swagdrien!"

Just when she'd thought he couldn't shine any brighter, a laugh burst from his lips. It was one she seldom heard without his mask and the fact she'd brought it out only swelled her sprinting heartbeat.

His next move involved a little hip swaying and a lot of arm swinging. Marinette had only played Fortnite a handful of times, but she had a sneaking suspicion she'd once witnessed it there.

"Keep going, ladies!" Nino implored. "I'm finally winning!"

"Yaaas!" Alya called. "Swagdrien The Suave!"

"Woo!" Marinette launched her fists in the air. "Swagdrien The Debonair!"

"Adrien," Kagami cut in, her puzzled tone stark against the laughter of her friends. "You aren't following the choreography?"

"Rules," he panted, "are made to be broken." As if to emphasise his point, he pulled a double arm wave.

Her brows scrunched. "But you're losing?"

Adrien, now mid-robot, incorporated a shrug into his dance. "This way's more fun"—he threw her a smile—"don't you think?"

His dancing didn't die down in the slightest, nor did the laughter that ensued in its wake.

Marinette, like most people, enjoyed bobbing along to Despacito at the best of times.

But this wasn't the best of times.

No, it was the worst. The absolute worst.

More good-natured trash-talking had led to Nino challenging Adrien to a dance-off. But not just any dance-off. No, a double couple dance off (read: everyone but her).

Furthermore, the universe was really testing her limits today—because Despacito's choreography was jam-packed with touching between partners. Sure, Kagami was rather stiff. She'd never played Just Dance before, but Adrien's skills more than made up for that. His hands nestled on her hips, their smiles broad and their bodies close as they moved to the beat.

She tried to smile. She tried to be happy for them. This was what they both wanted. Inserting herself between them – like matter between two magnets – would only be selfish. Even so, she couldn't deny the way her gut writhed at the sight of the happy almost-couple. And she couldn't help but notice Kagami's growing blush.

A distraction.

She needed a distraction.

As if some higher being had honed in on her thoughts, three knocks echoed throughout the apartment. Knuckles on wood had never sounded so wonderful!

Marinette jumped from the sofa. "I'll get it!"

Finally, she'd no longer be the fifth wheel to a quad bike. No, with Luka here, she'd instead be a part of some strange, six-wheeled hybrid. Much more appealing. She raced to the front door and swung it open.

Teal eyes smiled down at her, and their owner gave a little wave, black nail polish shining in the light of the stairwell.

"Luka!" She sprung a hug upon him and without hesitation, he returned it. The exchange only lasted two seconds – three tops – but by gosh, the rich scent of sandalwood delighted her senses long after. "So, how was your shift?"

"Oh, it couldn't end fast enough."

Truer words had never been spoken.

Marinette took his free hand in hers and guided him to the living room. The two couples were still dancing up a storm, guitar chords and Spanish lyrics echoing through the room. "Hey, I see you brought your guitar." She beamed up at him. "You'll have to play us something later. I'd really love to hear my song again!"

From the corner of her eye, Adrien stumbled mid-step.

"I saw that, Blondie!" cackled Alya, her hand in Nino's as they grooved from side to side. "You burning out?"

"Never!" He broke away from the choreography and Kagami quirked a brow as he puffed his chest out into a body roll, even more fluid than his first.

Luka slipped a guitar case off of his shoulders and against the sofa. "Hey, everyone!" He was answered by an array of breathless greetings. "Oh, right." He chuckled. "They're just dancing."

Marinetted laughed—

Until she realised the wordplay wasn't intentional.

"Wow!" Luka chimed, settling on the sofa. "Nice moves, Adrien."

Green eyes remained on the screen. "Thanks."

Marinette swiped the pizza box from the table, four pieces saved within it. "As promised, Luka!" Handing over the box, she sat beside him. "If you're not a cold pizza kinda guy, I can always heat it up for you?"

With a slice of pizza in hand, his free arm reached behind her, resting across the back of the sofa. "It's okay, Marinette. I'm perfectly fine with cold pizza." His eyes were as gentle as his smile. "The thought's appreciated though. Thank you."

A flush crept up her face as he looked at her, but she didn't mind. Not at all.

'We are one tonight, and we're breathing in the same air—'

With an easy smile, Marinette tapped her toes in time to the lively tempo of Turn Up The Love. To no one's surprise, Alya and Nino were nailing every move thrown their way—and fast approaching new high scores.

"Wow," Luka spoke up beside her, and her eyes flitted toward him. "They're so in tune, don't you think?"

Marinette gave a merry nod, recalling a time she'd said similar words to a certain blond.

She leant against the coffee table, smiling at the sight of her dancing friends. "They're so in sync with each other."

"You're right," Adrien said, from the other end of a FaceTime call. "Someday I hope I'll find someone I can share everything with… like they do."

In the present, she pursed her lips. Had Adrien been thinking of Ladybug then? Her eyes drifted toward the boy in question, only to catch his eyes zipping away that very second.

"Too right, Luka!" Adrien leaped into their conversation—and winced when his voice shot up an octave. Clearing his throat, he directed a smile at the dancing duo. "When's the wedding, guys?"

Alya skipped around Nino, her arms swinging to the beat. "We don't know the date just yet."

"But don't worry," Nino puffed. "You'll definitely be my best dude!"

"They're only fourteen, Adrien." Kagami tilted her head, her dark hair shifting. "How young do you plan to get married?"

Beside her, Marinette felt him tense. "Oh – I – Ye-ah." His voice cracked. "Fourteen's way too young! The legal age is – uh – eighteen, right?"

"You plan to be married at eighteen?"

"Err – Well, I don't – I don't know?" He squeezed out a laugh. "I mean, maybe. For the right girl?"

"Does that mean you'd marry the wrong girl if you were older?"

"No, I just—"

"Your indecision is troubling, Adrien."

Those words seemed to resonate with him. He shrunk into the sofa like a silent apology.

Marinette's nails dug dents into her palms—but Kagami didn't deserve her ire. She wasn't exactly well-acquainted with social cues. Heck, she probably didn't even realise what she was doing.

Flexing her paling fingers, Marinette turned to Luka, a wordless plea to fix this. She didn't trust herself to.

And he didn't disappoint.

"Hey, Marinette?" Both fencers looked his way. "Has anyone else tried your macarons yet?"

Adrien clung to those words. "I saw the carton on the bench, but I didn't want to be the first one to crack into them!" With a sheepish chuckle, he dipped a hand behind his neck. "I figured we were saving them for later in the day?"

If he didn't get his passionfruit macaron today, Marinette would scream to high heaven. "No no, Adrien!" She waved her hands for emphasis. "Feel free to help yourself. No, actually—"

She launched to her feet.

He did the same.

"—I'll bring them over," they said in unison. Blinking at each other, they laughed at once. "Sorry," they said. "I – Uh. You go first! No, you—"

Marinette held up a hand. "I'll bring the napkins. You bring the macarons. Deal?"

"Deal!"

A minute later, Alya and Nino collapsed onto the sofa, their chests heaving after their dance. To his delight, Nino had come out on top, destroying his former high score along with Alya's. (Not at all suspiciously, Alya had matched him point-for-point until the last thirty seconds, when her dancing had deteriorated just enough to let him win.)

A cardboard carton, with a golden emblem adorning its lid, rattled in Marinette's palms. While Adrien shared napkins around, she plonked down beside Luka. "I hope all this dancing's worked up everyone's appetite!"

Alya accepted a napkin. "By the grin on Adrien's face, I'd say his answer is a resounding yes."

"Can't blame him, babe. Those moves were unreal."

"It must be the fencing."

"From what I saw, he was a one-man sonata."

"Or a unicorn."

"Girl, did you just call Adrien a unicorn?"

Marinette nodded, unabashed. She was trying to get over him, yes. That didn't mean he wasn't still one of a kind.

With all leftover napkins now on the coffee table, Adrien resumed his seat between Marinette and Kagami. "Full disclosure: I'd make a magnificent unicorn."

Laughter erupted.

And only as it died down did Marinette speak again. "In that case, I sure hope unicorns like macarons!" She flipped back the carton in her lap, revealing an assortment of brown and yellow treats. "We've got two flavours: Belgian chocolate and passionfruit. I would've made more, but I was a little short on time."

"I'll believe it," Alya teased.

She stuck out her tongue. "Just a heads up, everyone—"

From the corner of her eye, Kagami reached for Adrien's hand and threaded it with her own. His smile wavered. He went to pull back, but Kagami tightened her grip—without realising? Adrien's struggling stopped.

"Yike—"

Marinette glimpsed a stern look from Alya.

"I mean LIKE! Yeah. I was, like, extra clumsy this morning and – err – dropped the macarons on this side." She jabbed a finger toward the left of the carton. "So – Um. Sorry about that."

Hands reached from all sides, lightening the carton in her hands, and delighted hums soon floated through the living room.

"Girl, you've really outdone yourself this time!"

"Ditto, babe!"

"I agree." Kagami admired the yellow, half-eaten macaron between her fingers. Her other hand still gripped Adrien's. "This is really delicious."

Adrien's face inched near as he marvelled at the macarons. "You made these, Marinette?" She thought she felt herself nod. "They look delicious!" He took one from the tainted side. Passionfruit, of course. His first bite— "Wow." He gazed at the treat like it was the answer to world peace. "Marinette, this macaron. It's… It's perfect!"

She felt herself beam as he savoured a second bite. This beautiful moment was most definitely worth the many Sundays she'd spent baking a single macaron.

In or out of the suit. Chat Noir or Adrien. He was her friend. Maybe she'd never see those three kids or that hamster. Maybe she'd never have that dog or that beautiful house. At least, not with Adrien.

Because they were superheroes.

Because of apocalyptic cataclysms.

Because he said he loved Ladybug, but in the end, he chose Kagami.

But she could still make him happy.

Luka reached for a treat last. His side pressed into hers as he leaned closer and picked a chocolate macaron. Like this morning, he went for the street-sullied side. With his free arm splayed behind her, he settled back into the couch cushions and savoured the snack with his eyes shut. "This flavour's even better! You're so extraordinary, Marinette."

Cheeks aflame, Marinette brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Extraordinary.

Luka said she was extraordinary.

And it wasn't the first time. No, the first time he'd been under Hawk Moth's cruel influence. And she tried not to take a supervillain's words to heart.

But then he'd said it again, his hand warm on her arm and his eyes warmer still.

"You're the most extraordinary girl, Marinette. As clear as a musical note and as sincere as a melody. You're the music that's been playing inside my head since the first day we met."

Was it time to tune along to his song?

Marinette swallowed, searching for a reply to the wonderful words of her friends. Instead, she caught the green gaze of another boy watching her fondly.

A lump lodged in her throat.

From the day she'd met him, her heart had been his.

But he didn't want his classmate.

From the day she'd met Luka, she'd been the song inside his head.

He made sure she knew where they stood.

He supported her every decision.

He made things simple.

The logical choice was clear.

Yet her heart throbbed at the thought.

No matter what, someone was bound to get hurt. Her friend. Her partner. Herself.

For over a year, she'd saved Paris with quick-thinking and convoluted strategies. She was the girl with a plan, the one people came to when times were tough. Yet here she was, unable to think up a single way to save her and her loved ones from heartbreak.

Why was she so useless?

Why couldn't she just keep everyone happy?

How could she possibly choose between them?

"Earth to Marinette?" Alya interrupted her thoughts. "Guys! I think we broke her with compliments!"

"No! Sorry, I just—" Marinette placed a hand to her chest and drew in a breath. "Thank you, everyone." She meant that wholeheartedly, and turned to Alya with a smile. "Wanna get back to dancing?"

"You know it!"

'Starships were meant to fly! Hands up and touch the sky!'

Of course, Alya had picked an old favourite of theirs: Starships by Nicki Minaj. A bop that never failed to bump up her mood. She knew the choreography well, but was still surprised by her soaring score. Her every move displayed a grace she'd never thought possible without a little latex magic, and over and over, the word "PERFECT" flashed gold on the screen. It was like the game was a one-word dictionary, but she sure wasn't complaining.

"Oh my gosh, M!" Alya puffed. "You are killing it!"

"Call me Swagrinette!"

Adrien laughed from his place on the sofa. "I don't think Swagrinette has quite the same ring to it." She threw a smile over her shoulder—just as Kagami eased her head onto his.

Marinette misstepped, but caught herself before the floor could. "Oops!" She wheezed out a laugh. "Spoke too soon, Al." Her arms circled through the air in sync with the dancing avatar.

Alya snorted. "You're still owning it!"

"She's right," Kagami added. "Your dancing's impressive, Marinette."

She glanced back at Kagami, another smile at the ready. It died on her lips at the sight she beheld. Adrien's eyes were on his hand, laced with Kagami's, and the look he wore was a resigned one. Knitted brows. A slight weight to his lips. He was unhappy—

Pain sliced through her ankle.

In a tangle of limbs, she tumbled to the floor.

Voices cried out her name.

Steps pounded.

She didn't know when, but her hand had clung to her ankle, and her face twisted as it throbbed beneath her fingertips.

"Are you okay?!"

Her eyes flew up—and what they beheld was excruciatingly familiar.

Two hands were extended before her: black nail polish painted the one on her right and an unmistakable ring adorned the one on her left. Her right hand remained around her ankle. Her other lifted off the floor. It drifted left, right, then paused dead centre.

With a composing breath, Marinette chose neither. Instead, she reached for a nearby ottoman, small and round and pastel pink, and chose to help herself off the floor. "I'm fine, guys," she said, reaching her feet.

Everyone stared, eyes rife with worry, while Starships thumped on in the background. Such upbeat music now seemed woefully out of place.

Alya propped a hand on her hip. "You sure, Marinette?"

Nino stepped to Adrien's side. "Yeah, that was one heck of a fall."

"I agree." Kagami's eyes were on Marinette's ankle. "It looked pretty serious."

Marinette fixed up a smile. "Really, I'm A-OK. See?" She shifted her weight to her right—

Another zap of pain.

Two sets of hands sprang to her shoulders, steadying her.

Marinette waved both boys away. "No no. I've got this." She hobbled over to the sofa, stifling a wince, while steps tapped behind her. "It's not as bad as it looks"—she wasn't sure if that was a lie—"but just in case, I think I'd better be a spectator for the rest of the day."

Luka seated himself to her immediate right. "First, we should really take care of your ankle." He looked to a concerned Alya, who'd seated herself on the arm of the sofa. "Do you have any ice packs?"

Adrien claimed the free spot to Marinette's left. "Plus something to act as a barrier between the ice pack and her skin." An instruction, not a suggestion. "Painkillers too. And some anti-inflammatory cream."

"On it!" Nino rushed to the freezer.

"We gotcha!" Alya's red hair whipped behind her as she dashed to the bathroom.

Marinette clung to the cushion beneath her. This was a disaster. A complete and utter disaster. But she could at least avoid dragging her friends down with her. "No need to fuss, guys." She kept her tone light. "It's really not that bad. And I don't wanna ruin the afternoon by—"

A comforting weight on her hand gave her pause. "Never." Adrien's eyes creased as he smiled, giving her hand a light squeeze. "We're just looking out for you. You'd do the same for any of us."

Luka's hand found her shoulder. "You can tell us if you're not okay, Marinette."

"Yeah, I can call you a doctor," Adrien chipped in. "Or get my driver to take you. Just say the word, Marinette."

Kagami knelt on the floor ahead of her, a cushion in hand. "I believe elevating the injury above the heart reduces swelling. Here." She placed the cushion on the coffee table and with a substantial amount of care, eased Marinette's foot upon it.

A smile flooded her face. Her friends were truly the best.

With a metallic whir, daylight broke upon the silhouette of a lean man, and flocks of butterflies stirred, their pale wings catching the sun.

"Ahh… An aspiring artist with a penchant for Picasso. One whose dreams have been crushed by a hard-hearted critic." Each word floated from his tongue with a delighted lilt. "What perfect prey for my akuma."

He beckoned a nearby butterfly to his awaiting palm, carefully caging it between two gloved hands. Darkness materialized, clinging to the insect and soiling its snowy wings.

"Fly away, my pretty akuma, and evilize this wounded soul!"

You thought this was a simple romance/humour? YOU THOUGHT WRONG! It's action time, baby! Honestly, it's a wonder our girl hasn't hurt her ankle already. There's a seven-minute video on YouTube of all the times she's fallen over. Seven. Whole. Minutes. (Can totally relate. My lazy ass shortcuts when walking through doors and ends up walking into door frames, like, ALL the time.)