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#...god I love writing adrien but specifically when he's down bad and/or mad as hell
wisteriasymphony · 5 months
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Tennis Match - Kira!Adrien AU pt.1 (sorry)
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...It seemed that, while being the world's alleged "greatest detective", L (or, as she currently pretended to call herself, "Cori Beaufort") was not above the idea of wearing a skirt. Of course, there was a clear occasion for it: She'd invited Adrien to play a game of tennis with her, mentioning that she'd once won the England Women's Junior Cup, so she was specifically wearing a white tennis skirt, of all things. Adrien had a feeling it was, like every choice she made, intentional. Her fashion was garish, sure, with her large flannel, beat-up baseball cap, and large tennis shoes, but that wasn't really the focus. It was her legs, bare and supple-looking, that were clearly her method of distracting him this time. It was simply a nice coincidence that it was a particularly warm day, and that many other people, men and women alike, were wearing shorts or skirts. No: The only way he could rationalize it feeling so different on her was that she was trying to bait him again. Clearly.
"Hey!" she finally greeted him once the two were within earshot. Adrien glanced away, hoping it was enough to gain his composure; One of the things he despised most about L's approach was that she acted so overly friendly with him. They were quite clearly enemies at this point, perhaps even intellectual rivals—And yet she just had to taunt him with a smile. With any other idiotic target, maybe that was enough. Yeah, she probably acted this way around every man she was hoping to arrest.
"Good morning," Adrien responded cordially. He suddenly felt quite awkward standing there, tennis racket idly in hand. L's state of dress aside, it was obvious this match was meant to test him and confirm her suspicion that he was truly 'Kira Le Chat Noir'. 'Confirm' specifically because could see either outcome being used as justification regardless, a true heads-I-win-tails-you-lose situation. Although they had only been briefly acquainted, Adrien had a feeling this was the case. ...Though, it wasn't as if he would've shied away from getting an assured victory of his own should the opportunity present itself. She just happened to have the upper hand.
While Adrien was busy retreating into his own mind, L had begun to stretch, not seeming to care in the slightest that a few people had stopped to stare at the two of them in the middle of the university's tennis court. Feeling obligated to look just as eager to play as she did, Adrien began to stretch his wrists, maybe his hamstrings if he felt like it. Nothing to the extent L was doing, much less anything that would illicit that same... hideous grunting. That was all he would allow himself to categorize it as for now. Especially not with the final image of her stretching by arching her back—Dear God.
"You know, it's nice to have found another tennis champ," she smiled, her tone bright as if she was talking to a very close friend. "Gimme your best, alright?"
That was definitely her goading him, he was sure of it.
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The match began perfectly. The two were neck and neck for the first few games, with all the stakes resting on the final foray. Adrien still hadn't decided whether exactly he was to win or to throw the match; Every smug grin L gave him as he happened to best her seemed to imply she was tricking him into beating her, but maybe that was exactly what she wanted him to think. It was much easier to focus on the ball, perhaps, and occasionally glance at the rest of her body as she moved across the court, the flannel tied around her waist flapping about as she ran. Adrien could swear he'd even noticed a bead of sweat running down her leg, his eyes thoroughly enthralled by the spectacle as it ran from her thigh all the way down to her ankle. Of course, that particular sight was distracting enough that he very nearly missed a throw that any amateur could've gotten, so hopefully his eyes wouldn't wander like that again.
...
(a/n: trading inner monologues. L is first, Adrien second, vice versa)
I can see the wheels turning in your head, Adrien. Guess I'm already in there, huh? Tch. There's no way a simple tennis match is meant to deepen this 'friendship' of ours, L, and I'm well aware of that. I know this was all just a token gesture, and we are but two actors in an elaborate performance. One meant to simply make us look closer to the outside observer.
Well then.. Since I went through the effort to play tennis with you, Adrien, you're probably assuming I want to get closer to you in some way. Maybe even that I want to know you better?
Hah. Just so you can try and trap me into saying something only Kira Le Chat Noir would know, no doubt!
But you're not that stupid, are you? You're going to tell me you need to know if you can trust me first, and the only way you'll be sure of that is if I tell you everything I know.
And yet it'd only make sense that I'd discuss Kira with you once I get proof you're in charge of the investigation... And, more importantly, that you're really L as you like to say you are!
Clearly, the first thing you're going to want from me is some kind of confirmation. Something more than just my word.
Which means we'll have to visit Task Force Headquarters.
...
No, actually, maybe it would make perfect sense for him to be distracted like this. This had been the first time Adrien had played since his youth, and surely the first time in years against a woman. Kira might be focused on winning above all, but perhaps the impression he wanted to give was that he was a little more hormonally driven, much like the common man. Not that Kira couldn't get it on if he wanted to—Adrien liked to think of him as maybe even a casanova of sorts—just that it was less important to Kira than justice. ...Maybe the everyday Adrien would be of a different mind?
...Damnit! He'd still be playing into her hands. What else was she wearing that stupidly short skirt for if not to entice him? Not only was there likely a secret motive to it, as he'd concluded before, but to let her distract him was to essentially hand her the reins to his own downfall. Man or woman, he couldn't allow that. Especially with something so simplistic and carnal as this. He'd have to ignore every time he could hear her short breaths from across the court, every time she'd lunge with her legs apart, every time she'd smile at him as if she didn't know exactly what it made him feel.
In his fervent rage, Adrien had let himself continue to lob the ball higher and higher, now finally to the point that his opponent had to jump. Whether it was the direction of the wind or the specific shadow cast by her clothing, what Adrien very nearly convinced himself he saw was a view up her skirt.
The ball hit Adrien's side of the court without resistance.
"Game and set! Won by Cori Beaufort, 6 to 4!"
L skipped over to Adrien almost immediately, as if the past hour and a half had barely taken anything out of her. Adrien was horrified by the prospect of her drawing him into a falsely sentimental hug, but she merely shook his hand.
"That was a wonderful match, Adrien," she smiled, holding her racquet behind her back. "Perhaps we could even get some coffee later?"
"You're, uh—"
Adrien couldn't keep himself from glancing down at L's hips. She quirked an eyebrow at him, before the realization hit her immediately.
"Pfft! You really think I wouldn't be wearing anything under this?" L teased. "Here, look!"
Before he could even give himself the decency of averting his eyes, L took the hem of her skirt between her thumb and forefinger and lifted it up just barely. Just enough to reveal she was wearing a very short pair of skin-tight white shorts.
It was a blessing Adrien no longer had his racquet in his hands, because if it was he would have snapped it in half. Instead, he simply cleared his throat harder than he ever had in his entire life.
"Good to know, I suppose," he muttered back to her. "But yes. Coffee sounds nice."
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