A/N: Also posted on AO3. Just a random thought I had, because why not have a Marching Band AU? It'll be a long ride. Now's your chance to avoid being sucked in.

Enjoy!

"Mari! Let's start our leg exercises, or else we'll die by the end of Band Camp," Alya whined over the phone, draping her body across her bed. She relished the feeling of her cotton sweats and light sweater, humming in satisfaction as she reached her hand into the air and started making random gestures.

On the other side of the line, Marinette was already dressed in short pants and a tank top, tying her shoes as her shoulder pressed her phone to her ear. She glanced down at her wristwatch: 7:48AM. Let's see if I can get there in three minutes.

"I'm already on my way, Al. See you in five?"

Marinette stood up and pulled her phone farther from her face while she said goodbye to her parents (all while avoiding her mother's inquiries on location, who she was going to be with, and time of return), and then stepped outside into the sidewalk in front of the bakery.

"What? You're already coming? Shitshitshit"—Marinette snickered—"okay, see you in five minutes," she heard over the rustling of Alya's phone scraping against her bedsheets.

"Kk, bye." Marinette hung up and slipped her phone into her armband. She drew in a deep breath, adjusting her tight ponytail as she pulled her foot into her back.

With one last wave to her parents through the bakery's windows, she jogged, feeling her muscles tense up in exhilaration.

:..:

From: sexamaphone bro
To: golden child
cone over and bring ur sax i need help in the secnd song

Adrien released a tight exhale as he urged his body to curl up into one final crunch. Sweat dribbled down his jawline and onto his collarbone as he flopped onto his back once again, reaching for his buzzing phone. Breathing heavily and holding it above his face, he slowly punched in the letters.

From: golden child
To: sexamaphone bro
what do u want. Im at the gym, figure it out by urself

From: sexamaphone bro
To: golden child
rude
I jst need help wit a few measures. plesea

Adrien groaned, letting the back of his hand thump onto the hardwood floor and flipping onto his stomach. He crawled onto his knees, making noises of effort as he stood and slung his gym bag over his shoulder, keeping his water bottle pinned against his side with his elbow as he texted. He was slowly walking with his eyes on his phone, greeting his acquaintances with a distracted nod.

From: golden child
To: sexamaphone bro
w'ell see. Idk if I can make it, dinner wth dad

The saxophonist gave the woman at the counter a small grin and a wave as he pushed through the front doors, wincing as he was slapped in the face with 96 degree weather.

And if he kept his emerald eyes up long enough, he would have seen a certain ravenette sprinting by, her face and chest glistening with perspiration. But his phone vibrated four times in his clammy grip, snatching his attention from his surroundings.

From: sexamaphone bro
To: golden child
NOOIIOIOO
plz I need u more than he needs u
besides its only like 12
dude

Adrien's kinetic memory kicked in as he swerved around people and made turns only his body would know. He let out an exasperated huff, running his fingers through his damp hair and lifting his eyes when he stopped at a crossing road. Quickly, he typed in his response before pocketing his device.

From: golden child
To: sexamaphone bro
Fine.

:..:

"Welcome, welcome, to my humble abode," Nino said grandly as he swung open the doors and spread out his arms.

Adrien listlessly stared at him, dressed in joggers and a t-shirt with his tenor sax case swaying in his hand. Clutched to his chest were sheet music and his phone. They looked at each other without saying a word until Nino coughed awkwardly, feeling a bit guilty that he had dragged his busy friend over.

Ah well, he's already here. Nino mentally shrugged.

"Come in, come in," he said, ushering and steering Adrien up the stairs and into his room.

Once he shut the door, Adrien placed down his instrument and sat on his computer chair all while Nino scrubbed his short hair with his palms.

"Dude, dude, dude, I'm so screwed." He paced across the floor, cursing whenever his toes got caught in a pair of pants or underwear.

The blond sighed, looking around the room. "'A few measures' was an understatement, right?" With one perfect eyebrow raised, Adrien blankly stared at him, though a hint of a smirk was twitching. Nino nodded. "Where's your Bari?"

Nino nodded towards the door. "Downstairs."

He squinted at the tanned teen, confusion plastered on his face. "Then why did you bring me here?" he asked, spinning in his chair with the papers resting on his lap.

"Because if my mom hears me perform like the shitty player I am, she's gonna take my phone away," he said. "Dude, you know I can't live without my phone." He leaned towards Adrien and jabbed his firm chest with his finger. A mischievous smile curled on his lips. "I got a woman to entertain."

Adrien groaned, pushing himself up and walking out. Nino yelled for him to come back. "It's time, Nino," he said dramatically as he turned around, a grin threatening to break out. "Let's make your mama proud."

Nino let out an exaggerated wail as if his lover had just died. He fell onto his knees, sobbing into the floor while Adrien turned away, a fake expression of guilt and hurt appearing.

Meanwhile, Nino's mother just exited the laundry room with a hamper on her hip and witnessed, what she presumed, a breakup scene.

(Later that night during dinner, long after Adrien had left, Nino's mother placed a hand on his own and told him, "There are many fish in the sea. You just have to pick the right one.")

:..:

For the next few days, Alya and Marinette did the same routine: meet at eight, do static exercises till 8:30, and run for a bit under an hour.

"One more week till Band Camp!" Alya cheered, groaning as her body slammed into her comforters. She kicked her shoes off, moaning, "And yet my leg muscles haven't improved a bit." The auburn-haired clarinet player was out of breath from suffering through 45 minutes worth of running. Her thighs and calves were screaming, while Mari was still standing upright, a bit out of breath.

Marinette sat down onto her friend's chair, moving the mouse of her computer to wake up the monitor. The screen lit, showing a conversation with someone dubbed Ho.

She turned around in her chair, brows furrowed.

"Alya, who's Ho?"

Alya was dozing off as she honestly mumbled back, "My more-than-a-friend." After receiving a silence begging for an explanation, she elaborated, "We're not dating, but we're not just friends, you know what I mean?" Alya rolled over onto her back and sat up with her arms supporting her upper body.

Marinette blinked at her before scolding, "You know you're not supposed to meet random people online, right?"

The other rolled her eyes. "He goes to our school and he's in our grade. Relax, Mari." At her unwavering stare, she broke out laughing and slapped her bare thighs. "It's Nino, remember? Nino Lahiffe."

Her jaw dropped and she bolted up to her feet with a happy smile. "No. Way. The kid that's been fangirling over you after I rejected him?"

"Yes," she said, rolling her eyes. "He's the kid with the very handsome friend that you've been obsessing over." At this comment, Marinette's cheeks lit up as she petulantly crossed her arms.

"He's a great sax player, that's all," she grumbled, pouting.

"Mhmm," she said blatantly, "so when are you gonna make a move on him?"

"What now?"

"For the past two years in symphonic band and in marching band, I've been watching you two skirt around each other, blushing and sputtering like idiots. He likes you!"

"No, he doesn't!" she yelled defiantly, though she sat down beside Alya and released a defeated exhale. "I wish," she whispered, hanging her head low so her bangs covered her sapphire eyes.

Just then, her computer chimed when another message popped up on the screen. With an excited squeal, Alya darted to her computer, hunching down to its level. Her hazel eyes skimmed the text, and a sparkle glimmered in her eyes.

With a sly smirk, she said, "Take a shower and get your clarinet. We're gonna meet Nino and Adrien"—Marinette's spine straightened—"at his house Nino's in thirty minutes."

And twenty minutes later, Marinette was standing outside Alya's bathroom wearing high-waist, tropical-design shorts with a pastel pink tank top a few sizes larger tucked in. The arm holes stooped down to show her sports bra, emphasizing her thin figure.

Alya proudly clapped her hands. "That's my daughter. We're gonna seduce the living daylights out of the Agreste kid." She swung her arm around Marinette's shoulder, leaning in with a grin.

"And Nino is gonna die from blood loss when he sees you like that." Blue eyes ran over Alya's larger, curvier body.

She wore a camouflage crop top and short jeans, which showed off her tan legs. A strip of her stomach peeked through whenever she made sudden movements or if she leaned over something, which Marinette was confident she would do.

"Lookin' good. Now let's go!" Alya declared.

Marinette remained planted on the ground with an amused smile. "You're forgetting something."

". . . My clarinet?"

"Yup."

"Ah . . ."

"And don't forget we have to stop by my house to pick up Claire."

Alya stomped her feet on the floor. "We're gonna be late. And tell me why, exactly, do you name your clarinet?"

She said nothing and instead hooked her arm through Alya's. "We have ten minutes. Let's go."

:..:

"She's what?" Adrien asked, panic settling into his stomach. They were in Nino's house yet again, this time in the living room where two stands have been placed.

Nino was sucking on his reed, adjusting the mouth piece on the neck of his baritone sax. He stared at him and said slowly with a slight lisp, "Alya is coming with Marinette." He accentuated each word as best as he could.

"Marinette?" he squeaked, popping his reed into his mouth to keep his tongue and lips occupied. Adrien's cheeks flamed up, serving as a reminder of his teeny, tiny attraction.

"Ask her out."

Adrien spluttered, "Wha? No way! We have to become friends before we can actually . . . date." He distracted his hands by clipping on the strap and hanging his tenor on his neck. He fumbled with the keys, keeping his eyes down. "But she seems scared of me."

The clicking noise of the metal against metal made Nino's brows twitch. And suddenly, he sprung up, the bari smacking against his knees.

"Okay . . . Okay!" he yelled, spit flying out and around his reed, which was still sticking out from his mouth, "today you're gonna take your first step. And at Band Camp, we'll test the waters."

"But—"

"Here they are," he said, walking towards the door after glancing out the window. But before his form disappeared around the corner, he leaned back and gave him a thumb-up.

And on cue, the doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of the two females and the death of Adrien.

:..:

You're sitting next to him, you're sitting next to him, Marinette's mind chanted. She gripped her clarinet tighter, pressing her fingertips against the open holes.

The four friends were sitting in a circle, Nino and Adrien on the sofas while Alya and Marinette dragged over dining chairs. They were reviewing all three songs, working on rhythm and keeping a steady beat during the particularly slow piece.

"No, Nino," Alya sighed, tucking her clarinet into her elbow and clapping the rhythm, "It's one and two and—and four and. There's a rest right there."

Nino blasted into his instrument in frustration, a boat horn resulting. Marinette squeaked and Alya glared harder at him.

"I don't like your attitude," she said in a low, mock-threatening tone. He only scowled at her. "Marinette!" she suddenly screamed.

"Y-yes!" said girl shouted, her slouching figure straightening immediately.

"Convert Nino's part and show him how it's done."

Marinette grumbled and pouted, sighing as she stood up and climbed behind Adrien onto the couch. She kneeled between him and Nino, feeling emerald eyes on her as her knees sagged into the cushions.

She read over the notes, mentally converting them into B flat. Then, once she was sure she got the right notes down, she began playing the measures Nino was having difficulty on.

Adrien, in the meantime, gulped upon seeing a patch of smooth, pale skin right below her bra. He nervously look away, scraping his bottom teeth on his reed and blew warm air through his instrument, praying to God that he wouldn't squeak during their session. He was thankful already though; Alya hadn't picked on him . . . yet.

When Marinette finished, she was about to return to her seat when—

"Now play Adrien's part," both Alya and Nino demanded, matching smirks on their lips.

"But they're different parts, a completely different rhythm," Adrien argued, shooting her a nervous grin. She flushed under his look, fiddling with her keys and nodded weakly.

"And besides," she added in, "I'm sure Adrien's got it." The confidence in her voice gave his ego a little boost.

The blond bobbed his instrument on his knees. "Yeah, I already know my part, unlike a certain someone." Nino waved at him, unaffected by his death glare.

"Fine." Alya crossed her arms, her clarinet held between her knees. "Then play."

He shrugged nonchalantly, Marinette gaping at him. But inside was pure turmoil.

I'm gonna screw up. But that's okay. We're all friends here, right? Hahaha . . .

Nonetheless, he licked his lips and began playing a smooth, velvety melody. It was perfect until the last measure, where he had to hold out a note for eight beats.

At the very end, a tiny squeak ruined it. Heat flooded to his cheeks, yet all three clapped for him, wows from Alya, whooping from Nino, and a gentle smile from Marinette. He wasn't used to this praise. When he practiced in his father's presence, he would brace himself for critique and scolding for not trying harder.

So, Adrien exaggerated a bow to cover up his insecurity, chuckling as he stood up and opened his arms. "Thank you, thank you." One arm crossed over his stomach as he continued bowing.

Marinette was enjoying this. She giggled when Adrien couldn't push his body anymore forward due to his tenor and smiled when his full laugh reached her ears.

"Well I bet you can't play this high," Alya challenged, closing her eyes as she played a third-octave E. Mari capped her hands over her ears, hugging her clarinet to her chest as she desperately hid behind her knees. Nino winced and Adrien brought up his shoulders to cover his ears.

The note lasted for sixteen full beats before she killed it with a satisfied sigh. Alya's face had gone pink due to the lack of oxygen and was heaving.

"Beat that, Agreste."

"Alya, no," Nino groaned.

Marinette peeked her head above the tops of her knees, a glare directed at her.

"Well, can you beat this?!" Her competitive side kicked in as she deeply inhaled and blew the highest note: C. She tightened her lips and stood still and straight, pulling out tightest air she could muster.

Alya fell off her chair, clawing at her ears while the two boys beside the ravenette jerked away from her as if they had been shocked. Adrien laughed, tucking his head into his arms as he fell onto his side, gracefully handling his tenor with care.

Marinette flopped forward, elbows resting on her knees, head down, and shoulders bobbing up and down. A few seconds later, she weakly looked up and said, "Beat that."

Then she rolled onto her side and closed her eyes with a slight smile.

"You ain't dead, right?" Nino said, his voice appearing directly in front of her. His breath fanned her face. She wrinkled her nose.

"Nah, she's just tired," Alya said on her behalf.

Nino snorted. "What'd she do? Play video games for two hours straight?"

Marinette imagined Alya's motherly side take over as she frowned. "No," she said, "we ran for an hour"—she knew it was a white lie (more like 45 minutes)—"did 50 squats"—45—"40 push ups"—30—"and 50 crunches." 42. We gave up because you were about to cry, Marinette thought, her neutral face lifting into a smile.

Adrien whistled. "Wow. I didn't know you two worked out so much." Marinette could sense his breathtaking smile.

Alya gasped, and she knew what was going to come out of her mouth. So she chewed on her bottom lip and waited with bated breath as Alya exclaimed, "Have you seen her abs?"

"That's a lie," Nino accused incredulously after a heavy silence.

"A lie it is not," Alya said. "I speak the truth. Now if she's sleeping, we can—"

Instinctively, Marinette rolled over so that her stomach was facing the back of the sofa. Then she glared at them over her shoulder, seeing Nino's blank expression, Alya's pride, and Adrien's confusion. Nino and Adrien unclipped their instruments from their neck.

"I am not lifting my shirt for you creeps," she scowled.

Alya smirked. "Oh I know," she said lowly. "You're not gonna lift your shirt up, but we will!"

As if they had all schemed this behind her back, Adrien grabbed for her ankles, Nino pinned her arms above her head, and Alya crept towards her.

Marinette was yelling at the top of her lungs. "Rape! RAPE!" She thrashed in their grip, punching Nino in the shoulder and kicking Adrien in his chest.

"My parents aren't home. So no one can hear you," Nino said darkly.

Alya was standing above her, cackling and wiggling her fingers closer and closer to the top of her pants. "Don't look at me like that," she cooed. "I'm only doing this for your own good."

"Don't do it, Alya," she muttered, shaking her head. "Don't. Do. It."

Her friend shrugged casually and tore her shirt from its tucked-in state, bringing the hem up to her sports bra. Marinette screeched, long and deafening that Adrien covered his now-sensitive ears with his shoulder.

When she quieted down, three heads popped over her to look.

"Woah," they gasped, drinking in the sight of Marinette's muscles that were quivering as she breathed.

Adrien felt his cheeks warm up, but he couldn't tear his gaze away.

"See? Marinette is ripped," Alya said proudly, standing back with her hands on her hips and admiring her work.

Now free from her imprisoned state, she lunged forward, lightly tackling all three of them down. After many yells, laughs, and breathless begs, Marinette sat on a pile of three bodies: Nino on the bottom, Alya in the middle, and Adrien on top . . . where her butt was on top of his back.

She was about to jump up and run away and beg for forgiveness, but she had an ego to take care of. So, she relaxed on her throne, cleaning her nails and humming their marching band song.

Nino wheezed between puffs, "Get off. I can't breathe."

"Me neither," said Alya.

Marinette felt a muscle twitch in Adrien's lower back.

"Then use your last breath to apologize," she said, voice even.

"Sorry! Now gET OFF ME!"

"Sorry, Mari."

"Umm, I'm sorry."

She hopped off, dusting her hands and cocking one hip out, her hands findings its place on her hips. A triumphant smirk crawled onto her face. "Now you all know not to randomly lift up my shirt." She paused, staring in the distance as she pondered. "Who does that? That's so inappropriate!"

"Hey! It's okay if you're alone with someone else. Aah, y'know what I mean? Mm? Mmm?" Alya shot her a flirtatious wink, earning an expressionless look from her friend.

"Ew, you're all so gross," Nino whispered, shaking his head and adjusting the strap on his neck. He took in a breath through gritted teeth. "Thanks guys, now I have a burn on the back of my neck," he said.

"Well that's your fault for trying to rape me!" she yelled, face red.

"Woah, woah, calm down," Adrien said, laughing as he patted her shoulder. She turned around, a glare settled on her face. Since when was he behind her? She could feel his instrument bump against the back of her thighs whenever he moved. "That's a bit extreme, right?"

"Hmph," she mumbled, staring at his lips for a split and looking away before she was too obvious.

After she averted her eyes, he kept his gaze on the back of her neck, right under the part where her hair split into two sections. His hands itched to inch down the length of her arm and hold her hand.

"Well!" Alya interrupted, breaking their tiny moment. She pushed herself onto her feet with huffs. "Tomorrow's auditions for drum major, and we're all gonna meet at Marinette's house before we watch our precious Adrien and Marinette go, 'kay?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued, busying her hands by taking apart her clarinet. "Sabine makes the best omelets, so we're gonna be there by seven, a'ight?"

"And who decided this?" Nino asked, raising a brow at her.

"I did," Alya said.

"I don't know if my mom will really want that much company. It's near opening time; I don't know if she has time to make us all breakfast," Marinette murmured, walking towards her clarinet case and unlatching it to put her instrument away.

"I'll have to ask Father. He loves having me under his control," Adrien said, crouching down to unlock his case and carefully place his tenor after separating his body from the strap. He closed it with a loud thwump, sighing as he stood up again.

Alya gawked at them, betrayal written across her face. "No.No. Nope, nuh-uh. I am not letting my children escape my offer. You are all attending, got it?"

Nino groaned, Marinette glared, and Adrien pouted.

"Great!" She beamed ignorantly, grabbing Marinette's hand and dragging her out the door. "See you all tomorrow! And thanks, Nino!"

"Bye!" he replied.

"Bye Alya, bye Marinette," Adrien muttered.

When the door closed, Nino turned around and smirked. "Tomorrow is gonna be a good day."

A/N: Machonette makes an appearance lol. Playing 4th octave A is death, by the way. Sorry for the typos :c

See you later!