This one is for landturtlealyce, who inspired me to write this little ladrien oneshot after a discussion about suit jackets on APS.

Interlude

The hall is stuffy. Something about the air-conditioning being faulty. Adrien tugs at his tie and tries not to think about the sticky, wet strip forming on his spine. There's too many people in the hall, all crammed together like glittering sardines. Half of the jewels they're wearing won't even be theirs—just lent for the event to get some extra attention for the agreed brand. Not that Adrien is any different. He's been a show pony for Gabriel since he was thirteen.

"Adrien!"

"Is that Adrien Agreste?"

His name is called endlessly. Come smile for this camera. Come talk to this designer, that producer, this patron. His bodyguard guides him around the hall, stoic as ever, but Father is not here tonight. Adrien is eighteen now, and apparently that means he's meant to step up and be the face of the brand in a much more public way. That includes attending events on his own. (Never mind a growing part of him has no desire to take over the company.)

Perfume and sweat mix together in a cloying shroud of musk, floral, and woodsy accents. It's giving him a headache. The incessant smiles and polite comments he's expected to make aren't helping. His cheeks hurt. His temples throb.

He really wishes he could leave.

"Hey," he says, edging closer to his bodyguard. "I'm just going to use the bathroom."

An unreadable expression and a nod are all he gets in return.

Adrien weaves through the crowd, relying on his bodyguard to block people from trying to snag him into conversation. It's like dodging fish hooks, but he eventually makes it into the much cooler corridor. A few stragglers loiter, but there's no line leading to the bathroom. That's good.

"I won't be long," Adrien says.

His bodyguard takes position next to the door like a frowning gargoyle. Adrien leaves him to it. He's got a plan to enact.

oOo

"Okay," Adrien mutters as his shoulders resist fitting through the tiny toilet window, "this was a lot easier when I was younger."

He feels like Winnie the Pooh after eating too many smackerels of Rabbit's honey, his butt hanging out the window for the world to see. Thank goodness he'd bothered to unbutton his suit jacket. This would be so much harder with restricted arm movement.

Squishing his shoulders in as much as possible, he wriggles and twists until he finally manages to get outside. After that, it's easy to scale the wall to one of the balconies on the unused upper floor. Light filters up from the lamps below, creating a soft glow. It's not perfectly peaceful—music and the general hum of voices can still be heard from the party—but at least the noise is not skull-throbbingly close. Also, he doesn't have to work the crowd.

He removes his jacket and rolls up his sleeves. A quick tug at his tie loosens it, and he undoes the top two buttons of his shirt to ease the choking tightness. There's no chair to sit on, but the cool night air ruffles his hair and is a welcome caress against his face and bare forearms.

Was he going to get in trouble for slipping away from the party? Absolutely. Was it worth it? Every time.

There's a clink from above. Adrien spins around and blinks as Ladybug drops onto the balcony in a burst of colour. Her eyes widen. His mouth forms a small O. The yoyo comes loose from the railing, almost tumbling right past her hand, though she catches it at the last second.

"Adrien," she says.

A hundred smooth lines pop into his head. This is the perfect opportunity to flirt. They're the only ones on a balcony, there's romantic mood light, and he knows for a fact that Ladybug is single again. (Perks of being her superhero partner, not that she's aware he's Chat Noir.)

So of course all that comes out of his mouth is "Hi."

"Hi."

They stare at each other. It's like being fourteen all over again. His face is warm, and he's conscious that his jacket is on the floor and he probably looks a mess, especially after his struggle through the window. Father certainly wouldn't approve.

Her gaze dips to his forearms and lingers on his loosened tie, then up to his face. There's no judgement. In fact, there's something about the way she looks at him that makes the warmth in his cheeks turns pulsing hot.

Is Ladybug checking him out?

He swallows. "Um, what are you doing here?"

Wait, why did he say that? Idiot. Now she'll probably think he wants her to leave or something.

She scratches her cheek, looking off to the side. "Oh, I … I was …" Her shoulders slump and she shoots him a smile from under her lashes. "Honestly, I just didn't feel like taking the subway home."

Laughter spills out of him, free and easy. "Are you abusing your miraculous for faster travel, Ladybug?"

"Maybe …"

"I'm shocked."

Her lips twitch like she's trying hard to fight a smile. "You gonna out me?"

It's a theft of breath—the way her eyes sparkle, the teasing gleam that embraces him in familiarity and dares him to respond in kind. He flails for air, for basic words. Much as he's used to her banter as Chat Noir, it's different when he's supposed to be just another civilian.

Fresh heat grazes his cheeks, but somehow he manages to keep his expression composed. "Hmm, I could expose your subway-skipping ways, but I guess a hero is allowed travel perks."

"Only travel?"

He leans closer into her space, eyebrow quirked. "Why? What other perks were you hoping for?"

There's a pause as his proximity and the unplanned innuendo of that sentence settles between them. Pink dusts her cheeks. His own face flames.

Crap, crap, crap. Too familiar. Now she's going to think he's a creep.

He coughs to clear his throat, pulling back. "I mean stuff like free vegetables from the people you save, of course."

"O-of course. Best perk of being a superhero."

They glance away from each other. He mouths "What?" and resists the urge to facepalm, because in all the scenarios he's envisioned where Ladybug comes and sweeps him off his feet from a boring event, he's never imagined he'd be talking to her about vegetables.

Their eyes meet again, shy like a quiet tiptoe. Then the corner of her mouth curves into a quivering grin and he's soon joining her in hushed laughter.

"I'm sorry," he says, once he can speak again. "I have no idea what I'm saying."

"Neither."

The smile they share is soft and warm. It eases some of the tension from his shoulders, though his stomach is a mess of flutters, especially when she moves to lean against the railing. His heart skips a giddy rhythm. She's not leaving. Even after making a fool of himself, she's willing to stay here and talk.

"So," she says, tilting her head, "what are you doing up here anyway? Isn't the party downstairs?"

"Uh …"

Right. That must seem odd.

The teasing glint reappears in her eyes. "You bailed, didn't you?"

He rubs the base of his neck. "Maybe …"

She laughs. "Adrien Agreste, I never picked you for a rebel."

"I just came up here for a small break."

"Oh, just a small one, huh?"

"I really was planning to go back."

Her smile snatches the breath from his lungs and makes his limbs turn to mush. "Uh huh. Define small break for me."

His lips curve, and he turns away from her to rest his elbows on the railing. "Fine, you got me. It wasn't going to be a small break."

"Knew it."

"Go ahead and rub it in. Mr reputation is already in ruins now."

"Nah." Her shoulder bumps his arm in a friendly nudge. "You agreed to keep my secret, so I'll keep yours too. Don't worry, your reputation is safe with me."

"My reputation thanks you."

She giggles.

They stand there like that for a moment, content in the silence. It's comfortable. Maybe too comfortable for two people who are supposed to have barely interacted with each other except during the odd akuma fight.

"I should probably head home," she murmurs.

There's something about her tone that makes his heartbeat quicken, like she's trying to convince herself more than make a statement to him.

He swallows and tries his best to keep his voice nonchalant. "Mm, you were in a hurry, right?"

"Not really, but now I'm glad I skipped the subway ride."

"Oh?"

She meets his gaze, and it's like she's wrapped a string around his heart andtugs, twisting him up inside with flutters and stuttering beats. "I got to spend time with you, after all."

No words come out. His face heats like a sun is rising over his skin, because this is Ladybug and she cannot say things like this to him. She's going to turn him into a lovesick puddle at this rate.

Smiling, she leans up on her tiptoes and kisses him on his heated cheek. "Good luck with the party, Adrien. Hope you don't get in too much trouble for bailing."

He resists the urge to touch the spot where her lips touched. "Yeah. I, um, thanks for keeping me company."

She nods and turns to leave. The pounding drum in his chest gets louder, and suddenly he's speaking before he can process what is coming out of his mouth.

"Maybe we could do this again sometime. You know, if you ever feel like skipping the subway."

Her smile hits him straight to the heart. "Maybe."

Then she's gone with a wink and a wave. He let's out a breath and relaxes once more against the railing, watching her silhouette fade into the horizon of rooftops. He is so in love with that girl.