Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Only as Alya exited the shower with a towel around her she realized what she was doing here.

She had taken a shower in a stranger’s home, had blindly trusted a waiter in the restaurant she’d escaped a date from.

Only now it came to her mind as maybe a little rash. She could’ve walked home, no problem.

A rumble rolled over the sky and she rolled her eyes as her heart sped up.

It had probably been the fear of a storm coming around, yeah. Or the embarrassment of having cola dumped all over her in the middle of a restaurant. Or the desperate longing to get out of the sticky clothes and into something clean again.

Whatever had gotten into her, she was here now. And the waiter had seemed nice. So, it wouldn’t be as bad, probably.

And hey, she’d definitely have a story to tell Marinette. Or her children and grandchildren, someday, to prove their ma and grandma had been one crazy girl in her time.

Alya chuckled, beginning to blow her long, wavy hair dry with the hairdryer she found next to the sink. This was definitely worth a story she wouldn’t forget in her lifetime. And honestly, she was an adventurous girl. Why not?

When she was done with her hair, or at least done enough since it was still damp, she put her glasses on and carefully opened the door, checking that the waiter hadn’t returned yet. But he had stayed true to his word and was probably waiting for her text before coming up here again.

She peeked out of the bathroom and carefully stepped into the hallway, looking around to search for the clothes he had hopefully prepared for her.

And there they were, neatly folded on a chair next to the door, as she found them. And as she lifted the pile she saw he had taken his phone with him again since she had put it back there after typing in his number, probably when he had left for downstairs again.

With a grin she took the small pile back into the bathroom with her and was about to grab her own underwear when she blushed. Her bra and panties were completely soaked in cola.

Alya groaned in annoyance, tossing both back on her own pile of dirty clothes.

But oh well, everything was better than having to continue her “date” for another hour. Especially when being able to have someone so sweet like the waiter at hand. No wait, his name was Nino, right?

She smiled to herself as she unfolded his shirt and the jeans he had given her. Both were way too big for her, even if she could see that he had picked the skinniest jeans he probably had. Though, her blush spread when something fell to the floor that she hadn’t seen yet.

It was a pair of boxers.

Her cheeks flamed up as she lifted them up, eyeing the simple black material with a flexible hem on top. They would reach own to her knees, probably. She chose to ignore her blush, though, as she turned them over, saw the front and held them on her hips. A little above the knees, at least.

With a little nervous giggle, she pulled them on, trying to ignore the very obvious cut for men on the front. But as she adjusted the hem, that surprisingly fit her around her hips, she found that it was actually pretty comfortable.

Slowly, her blush lessened as she grabbed his socks, pulling them over her feet. He had big feet, she noticed. His socks left a lot of room for her. His jeans weren’t much better, even if it was a pretty slim fit for him, probably. They didn’t fit in length, she had to fold them up on her ankles, but at least they weren’t too wide. They even held up on her hips, without a belt. At least that, she grinned to herself.

His shirt was a whole new adventure. It was an older shirt and as she remembered the build of the waiter it probably didn’t fit him anymore. Or at least not well.

It was of a faded blue color and on the chest was an eye like shape, the printed-on color almost completely scraped off already and only the shadow visible.

Plus, it only stopped mid-thigh for her. She almost had to laugh at herself in the mirror. It looked like she had raided her boyfriend’s closet. Immediately, the blush returned and she spluttered, turning away from the mirror.

With clumsy movements she pulled her clothes together, his shirt falling forward as she bent down because it was so loose on her. Immediately, his scent got stronger.

It was a different one, different than his shower gel or shampoo and the overall scent his apartment carried. The shirt, his clothes, it smelled just a bit, just a tad more like him.

She involuntarily paused and breathed in, tilting her head down to feel the fabric of the shirt grazing her nose, just slightly tickling her skin. It smelled nice, she decided. Very nice. She liked his scent.

Just as her mind got fuzzy, though, she snapped out of it, shaking her head.

No, no no, this was not happening.

She got her clothes together and frowned at herself, not knowing where to put them. Until she had a rustling noise from beside the toilet. He must’ve left a plastic bag or her dirty clothes as well, it had just fallen out from the pile of clothes he had given her while she had probably found the boxers.

With a smile she put all her sticky clothes into the bag, then she grabbed her phone from the sink and searched for the new contact. With swift movements of her thumbs she sent him a short text, saying she was finished. Almost immediately, a text came back that he was just finishing some things up, then he’d be upstairs.

She smiled at the hurried typos he had send with the text, then she thoughtlessly put her phone into the front pocket to maybe venture around a little. Halfway there she remembered she should maybe pull her phone out again because for one, that was not her jeans, and it probably wouldn’t fit anyway-

Her phone slipped right through her fingers and landed in the pocket, resulting in an indignant groan from her. Men jeans. Lucky bastards, had big enough pockets.

So, as a matter of principle, she left in there and began tapping out of the bathroom, following the hallway down to come to the first open door. A few stray toy cars and even a puppet were noticeable as she went, which made her question her host’s age, but she didn’t pay them too much mind. Maybe he had little siblings that sometimes came here and played. She continued down the hallway, lifting her eyebrow as she came to the door. If the doors were closed they were off limits, that was a thing of honor, but if they were open a little peek couldn’t hurt, right?

It was his kitchen.

Alya giggled at the dishes and the abandoned dishrag on top of it. As her gaze went up she saw a ton of strange spices, all foreign to her as she deciphered the names. Or, at least those which were labelled with French names afterwards. Others were, well-… Oriental, maybe? She shrugged and pushed herself off the doorframe, walking further. A buzz in her pocket lightly startled her but she didn’t mind it as her gaze fell upon the open space at the end of the hallway. It was his living room, as she realized when she stepped in, a smile sneaking on her lips.

It had a big wall of windows and was very brightly lit by the daylight alone, unlike her small apartment only facing the backyard, surrounded by very tall apartment buildings.

There even was a roof terrace with a lot of plants and a small seating area outside, accessible through a sliding glass door that was half opened to let in some of the fresh March air, pregnant with the heavy scent of rain.

She lightly swirled around on her heel, whistling as she saw that the kitchen and the living room even were connected which she hadn’t seen before. His apartment was really fancy. Like, really fancy.

A few more toys became visible the further she stepped in and she giggled at a stuffed toy that looked like it was 20 years old that sat on the couch.

With a light chuckle she came to a halt in front of the window and grinned at the Eiffel Tower in the distance, clouded by heavy strings of rain. She could get used to something like this, definitely. Not always the same, boring concrete backyard with the lady from across who always yelled at the children playing there, without the same grey puddles which never really vanished, not even in summer. Just the blue sky and a few roofs. She wouldn’t even need the terrace, she was more of an inside person, even if she enjoyed being outside. But she could just concentrate better on her reports when she was on her desk.

Her infatuation with the view sadly didn’t last for long.

“Like it?”, a smug voice behind her sounded up, startling her so that she jumped, whirling around to see the waiter, Nino, approaching her with a grin.

“Ah, uh-…”

“Don’t worry.”, he quietly replied, stepping next to her to look out of the window, “I mean, I knew you’d be busy when you didn’t see my text.”

She flushed as she pulled out her phone, seeing the text message from him that he’d be up in a minute. Next to her, she just heard him chuckling, shaking his head as she embarrassedly put her phone away.

“… You got a nice apartment.”, she finally pressed out, letting her phone slide back into the pocket in the jeans. He laughed at that, turning away from the heavy rain outside to look at her, his tanned skin dancing with the raindrops on the glass.

“Thanks. You got a nice outfit. Does it fit, by the way?”

She nodded, lightly grabbing the shirt.

“Oh, yeah, it’s really comfortable. Just the shirt, that’s a little too big.”, she joked, letting it fall back to its nightgown length as her gaze got caught by a clock hanging on the wall across from them, “But, uh, tell me… Which normal shift ends at almost four in the middle of an afternoon?”

His hand immediately flew up to his neck and he cleared his throat nervously, trying to find an excuse before she giggled, shaking her head.

“You got out of work?”

He mumbled a few intelligible things before he sighed, his shoulders slumping.

“… My mom whooped my butt, saying I shouldn’t leave a pretty girl on her own in my apartment.”, his blush that he wore since he had come in here deepened, “Th-These were her words!”

She smirked knowingly, nodding and turning back to the window, watching raindrops dribble down the glass, playing with the dim light from the heavily clouded sky.

“So, you think I’m pretty?”, his spluttering fueled her smile so she decided to make him a little more flustered, “Did your mom think I’d find embarrassing stuff?”

His eyebrows pulled together as he eyed her, her game suddenly plainly visible for him. His smirk that followed only made her grin, knowing she had found a partner to play on her level.

“No, I don’t think so.”, he slowly replied, “You know, just my insane music system, my awesome apartment, my wonderful roof terrace…”

She giggled again as he leaned against the frame of the windows, lifting an eyebrow.

“Oh, and now you’re boasting?”

“To impress the pretty girl? Anything.”, he shot right back, both of them grinning as she shifted her weight to one foot.

“Wasn’t there something about you driving me home?”, she questioned, her smile never leaving her lips as he leant his head against the frame now as well, looking at her smugly.

“Oh, you know, my Lamborghini doesn’t like bad weather.”

She laughed at that, burying her hands in her pockets.

“Oh yeah, your Lamborghini? Are we lying now, Mister waiter?”

He chuckled, pushing himself off the frame to walk into the kitchen, gesturing her to follow him.

“Well, it is a Lamborghini! About-… 12 years old… And a little sickly and slow-… And it’s also a Fiat but hey, I sprayed a few racing stripes across the sides and roof! That counts as a sports car!”

She sat down at the counter as he opened the fridge, bending down a little to see its contents.

“Oh, definitely a sports car. You’re driving a Fiat, for real?”

He just shrugged, his gaze still fixated on the fridge while his other hand searched for some glasses in a cupboard next to him.

“Somehow gotta make my living and a fancy car isn’t part of it. Want something to drink?”, he shot a gaze over his shoulder, “If you wanna stay at all. One word and I can drive you home, no problem.”

He got a brief smile back as she shook her head, leaning back a little.

“Oh no, you know, I got something against a Fiat in that weather.”, she joked, winking at him. He just chuckled and turned back before she added, “But a water would be nice.”

He finally found what he was searching for and proudly showed her a little bottle in his hands, filled with a kinda thick, yellow-ish golden fluid. She pulled her eyebrows up and looked at him.

“You gotta try this.”, he insisted, putting a bit of the fluid, syrup, as she now realized, into the glasses and filling them up with tap water, “It’s self-made, by me, and not to boast or something, but it tastes amazing. My best friend says it has something of the nectar the Greek gods must’ve drunk.”

She smirked as he slid her the glass, then took his own.

“A syrup from what?”, she asked, smelling on it first. It smelled pleasantly sweet, just faintly, not too much.

“Elderflowers, actually. Was easy to make and I really like how it turned out.”

She took a careful sip before drinking a big gulp. The faint sweetness that she had smelled before had so much more flavor than just plain sugary syrup from the supermarket. She wasn’t that much of a sweet tooth, in contrary to Marinette, but this was actually really tasty. It wasn’t too sweet or sour but just the right amount of rich flavor from the flowers and a natural sweetness.

She hummed as she put her glass down, licking her lips as she looked at him.

“It tastes amazing!”, she praised, grinning widely at his easing smile. His shoulders relaxed and he gave her a warm feeling in her stomach, “You’re full of surprises, Mister waiter.”

“… My name’s Nino.”, he corrected her but she laughed.

“I know, you told me before. But I wanna tease you a little.”

His grin that followed could light up the entire sky if the world lived after her heartbeat.