Chapter Text
Patrols were torture.
Chat Noir and Ladybug would meet on their selected rooftop in the middle of the day, taking pictures with tourists and bouncing around the city as if everything was normal and Chat Blanc hadn’t turned her world completely upside down.
Ladybug swung across the city, feeling the burn in her muscles as she whipped her yo-yo out across the rooftops. She gazed over at her partner, seeing the powerful way his arms and legs propelled him across Paris.
His hair was the wrong color. She missed the shock of white she’d see on the unfiltered version of him. His suit was too dark and his eyes were too green. Even his pupils were wrong: black instead of dark blue.
Chat Noir would no longer dive for the butterfly. She’d never see Chat Blanc again.
And that was how she liked it.
Right?
Chat Noir smiled over at Ladybug and her heart twisted in her chest. He didn’t remember anything about Chat Blanc and Marinette’s relationship--and she didn’t want to remind him.
Chat Blanc was abusive at the best of times. He kept her on tenterhooks, always one wrong word away from blowing up. He scared her. He bruised her arm and held her neck when kissing her to keep her in the kiss.
She shouldn’t want to see him again.
Chat Noir landed on their patrol roof, having circled around the city alongside Ladybug. She landed next to him, winding her yo-yo around her waist.
“Good patrol, Bug.” Chat patted her shoulder. He’d taken to giving her little touches when he seemed to sense that she was down--which was all the time.
Ladybug chastised herself for getting upset over this. Chat Blanc was awful and abusive and gone and she shouldn’t have to try to get over him. He was dangerous. He was an Akuma. He was under Hawkmoth’s control and gave the man a full-frontal view of Marinette’s life.
She didn’t miss Chat Blanc.
She didn’t.
Chat Noir was still waiting on a response from her, so she flashed a reluctant thumbs up. “Yeah, good patrol. What are you up to after this?”
Ladybug didn’t care what he was up to. She’d never felt so disconnected from her partner.
Chat glanced at his feet, fiddling with his baton. A faint dusting of pink colored his cheeks, peeking out from underneath his mask. “I think I might go visit Marinette.”
Ladybug whipped her head up so fast, she felt heat bloom in her neck from the pulled muscle. She was suddenly very interested in what he was up to.
“Oh?” she said, trying to sound casual even as she leaned towards him and breathed in his masculine scents of charcoal, leather, and sweat.
No biting ozone.
“Yeah.” Chat turned his baton over and over in his hands, keeping his gaze lowered. He nibbled on his bottom lip, looking both vulnerable and unsure of himself. Ladybug thought he was strangely adorable. “Marinette’s one of my favorite people. She always puts me at ease.”
Ladybug smiled a little, touched by his good opinion of her. “Well, then, go visit her.”
Chat raised his head, the most beautiful smile Ladybug had ever seen gracing his features. “Thanks, Bug.”
He turned to vault off, extending his baton, but Ladybug held out a hand. “Wait!”
Chat turned back to her, his brows raised. “Yeah?”
“W-What if she’s not home?” Ladybug waved her hands in the air, desperate to preserve her identity. “Maybe you should go, uh, pick up flowers?”
“Flowers?” Chat cocked his head to the side and then nodded. “Good idea, Bug. A full bouquet?”
“No, no, Marinette’s a simple girl.” Ladybug tapped her index fingers together, feeling slightly guilty giving him advice on her own tastes. But he'd asked. “She’d probably be just fine with a single rose.”
Chat nodded again, his face so serious, Ladybug wanted to pinch his cheeks. “That checks out. What color? Pink?”
“Whatever color you think suits your, um,” Ladybug said, heat striking her chest, “feelings for her.”
Chat’s gaze blew wide, stunning Ladybug with how beautiful his eyes were. He rubbed the back of his head. “Oh, yeah, um, sure.” He gulped, which was strangely endearing. “Well. I’ll go, uh, get that. See you later, Bug.”
“See you, Chat.”
Ladybug waited until he vaulted off and then took off towards her house, hoping she wouldn’t run into him on the way. Thankfully, she didn’t. When she landed in her room and called her transformation off, an unusually-sober Tikki was waiting for her.
“Be careful, Marinette.” Tikki’s huge, indigo eyes searched Marinette’s face. She ducked under the scrutiny. “Don’t play with his heart.”
“Play?” Marinette shook her head rapidly. “Pfft, playing, me? No way! I’m just… trying to see what his intentions are with me, that’s all.”
Tikki frowned, and Marinette’s heart lurched in her chest. She didn’t want to disappoint her Kwami, but Marinette wasn’t playing with Chat.
Not… Not really.
“Don’t worry, Tikki.” Marinette shook her head, trying to impress upon the Kwami how serious she was. “I’ll make sure to--”
She heard a tapping on her skylight and squeaked. Tikki phased into the hidden Miracle Box with the other Kwamis, but Marinette stayed rooted to the spot.
She didn’t know what to expect with Chat Noir being here. He didn’t remember any of their relationship, and knowing he was out there scared her a little.
Marinette heard another tap and patted her cheeks to have something to do with her hands. He’s not Chat Blanc. He’s not going to hurt you.
Pep talk given and received, Marinette climbed her stairs, her hand shaking on the railing. She knelt on her bed and opened up the skylight to see Chat’s smiling face.
“Chat Noir!” Marinette feigned surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“Hi.” Chat waved a clawed hand, hiding the other one behind his back. Marinette knew that was her rose, but she was ridiculously curious about what color he’d chosen. “May I come in?”
Just that he'd asked loosened her stiff shoulders. Chat Blanc never asked--he’d once blown a hole in her roof, for goodness’ sakes--so that Chat Noir sought permission to come into her room helped her realize the differences between them.
Marinette leaned back to allow him in, already regretting doing so. “Sure, Chat.”
He hopped down onto her bed, a shy smile curving his lips. “Thanks.”
The silence between them felt comfortable. It felt right.
Still, Marinette wanted to see her rose. “So, um… What’s behind your back?”
Chat brought his hand out, revealing a rose. A red rose. “For you.”
Marinette's cheeks flared with heat, and as she closed her fingers around the stem, they brushed Chat’s. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, trying to hide her nerves. “Why red?”
Chat shrugged, though the movement seemed forced to Marinette and not casual at all. “It suits you.”
It suits his feelings for me, Marinette thought, touching her burning cheek with her cool fingers. He… He loves me?
Marinette examined her friend, her partner. He wasn’t as intense as Chat Blanc, but he was a kind, compassionate, sweetheart of a boy who only wanted the best for her and would never hurt her.
Maybe I should give him a chance.
“So, um.” Marinette twirled the stem in her fingers, watching the petals spin. “What would you like to do? We can talk, or play games, or… I dunno.”
Kiss, maybe?
Chat's smile was so shy and sweet, Marinette's heart burst in her chest. “We can start by getting off your bed?”
Marinette laughed. Laughing felt so, so good; she felt free and unworried, giggling with Chat. She reached out on impulse and patted his shoulder, and he leaned into the touch, angling his body subtly so that he leaned even closer to her.
“Yeah, good idea,” Marinette said. “We can figure out what we want to do once we’re not wrinkling my coverlet.”
She stood up on her bed and crossed to the stairs, Chat trailing behind. Once she reached the floor, she turned to him. “I’m sure I have a vase for this downstairs, but I can get that later.”
Chat held his hand out. “May I?”
Marientte placed the rose in his fingers, wondering what he was going to do with it.
“Until you get that vase,” Chat whispered, tucking the stem behind her ear, his clawed fingers gently trailing across her cheek, “the rose can live here.”
Chat stood so close to her, she could breathe him in and taste the coffee on his breath. He was so much taller than she was, but she didn’t feel dwarfed by his presence or insignificant in his shadow.
She also didn’t feel caged by Chat Noir like she’d felt with Chat Blanc. Chat Noir made room for her and didn’t threaten her in the slightest. She trusted him in a way she’d never trusted Chat Blanc.
Chat Noir was her dear, devoted partner. She didn’t know why she’d been so focused on Adrien that she’d missed the wonderful boy right under her nose.
Adrien. She hadn’t given a single thought to Adrien since Blanc had shown up in the middle of the night to cuddle her that first time.
Marinette didn’t know what she felt about Adrien anymore. She’d fallen, and fallen hard, for Chat Blanc, and now she was doing so with the more restrained version of him.
And Chat Noir was patiently waiting for her to get her head on straight.
Marinette stared up into his bright, green eyes, thinking that the color matched his suit. He gazed down at her with so much adoration, her breath caught in her throat.
“Are you all right, Marinette?” Chat peered at her, concern etched across his features. “You’re trembling.”
Marinette burst into tears, shocking herself.
The words Chat Noir had used were exactly the same as the ones Chat Blanc had spoken, and the way Noir was looking at her was so similar to Blanc, she was stunned by the comparison. A sudden and inexplicable despair had overtaken her, causing her to cry her heart out.
Chat Noir threw his arms around her, pulling her against his chest and cupping the back of her head. He was hot, a boiling furnace, which was such a contrast to Chat Blanc’s freezing body temperature that Marinette only cried harder.
Even though the planes of his chest and the corded muscle of his biceps were hard, Chat Noir’s embrace was soft. Tender. Compassionate. He didn’t crowd her; no, he supported her weight with no effort at all, literally keeping her on her feet.
Chat Noir carded his fingers through her hair, loosening her pigtails and leaving the strands down. He dropped her hair ties on the floor, and Marinette found she didn’t mind at all.
“You’re okay, Marinette.” That, too, was similar to what Chat Blanc had said, and despite being held in the arms of someone she trusted, she felt panic lick at the back of her brain again. Chat Blanc had followed up with, “After all, you’re mine.”
But Chat Noir didn’t say that. “I mean, you’ll be okay,” he said. “I’m sure of it.”
Relief washed over Marinette, catching her in the stomach. Chat Noir didn’t want to own her. He wasn’t possessive, and he wouldn’t grab her arms in a bruising grip. Despite Chat Blanc being the unfiltered version of him, Chat Noir was nothing like him.
Chat Blanc was what Chat Noir was capable of but would never be as long as he was in control of himself.
And how much did Hawkmoth have to do with that? Marinette knew that the man imposed his own identity on his akumatized victims. Was Hawkmoth abusive? Marinette wondered.
She buried her face in Chat Noir’s shoulder, her hands coming up to cup his shoulder blades. He was warm, so warm, and unlike before, where that was hurtful because the warmth wasn’t what she’d expected, now she found it a comfort because it was different. Chat Noir was all the good parts of Chat Blanc; she just had to get used to the boy in black.
And he liked her. Maybe even loved her.
Her breath hitched twice as she tried to compose herself. Marinette gulped down precious oxygen, tasting coffee. But when she raised her head to look at Chat Noir, salty tear tracks drying on her face, she caught sight of the purple butterfly over his shoulder.
The shriek tore from her throat before she could stop herself. “Chat!”
Chat’s green gaze, so full of worry, darted to the akuma. His eyes grew wide and he broke away from her as if scalded.
She expected him to dive for the butterfly, to place it into his bell.
But that was not what he did.
“Cataclysm!” He whipped his hand out, closing it around the winged insect. When he opened his fingers, ash floated onto her floor. “Marinette, I…”
He glanced at his ring, and she knew he was thinking of his timer.
“Stay?” Marinette placed her hands on his chest, trying to impose on him her desire for him to remain in her room. “Please?”
Chat gave her a pained grimace, shattering her heart. “I can’t. Ladybug would flay me alive if I gave away my identity.”
“But I am...” Did Marinette want to do this? Reveal herself?
Marinette trusted Chat with her very life. He was willing to die for what he loved, and he loved so very, very much. He dove for butterflies so unsuspecting Parisians wouldn’t have to suffer--except after she’d asked him not to, which he’d respected.
Chat Noir was kind, compassionate, respectful, and everything Chat Blanc wasn’t. She’d been so blind, and she could no longer deny it anymore: she’d fallen in love with the boy behind the Akuma, not the Akuma itself.
She loved Chat Noir. She loved him, heart, mind, and soul.
Chat’s timer beeped, and Marinette made a decision.
Marinette cupped his cheeks, staring deep into his gorgeous, green eyes. “Listen to me, please. I have something to say.”
Chat nodded in her loose grip, his clawed hands coming up to gently grasp her wrists. She wasn’t afraid of being bruised; no, she relished this touch. “You can tell me anything.”
“Ladybug won’t be worried about you revealing your identity, because…” Marinette licked her lips. It was now or never.
And she trusted Chat Noir.
“I am Ladybug.”
Chat sucked a breath over his teeth. His eyes widened and his lips parted, and Marinette wondered how she hadn’t noticed before how kissable he was. He licked them, cementing her attention even further, and before he could open his mouth to say something, something Marinette really wanted to hear, she was pressing her lips to his, tasting that coffee for herself.
Chat gasped into her mouth, seeming utterly taken by surprise. He didn’t respond for a couple of seconds, and Marinette thought she’d done something horrible, that he didn’t love her after all and didn’t want to kiss her.
She’d just forced herself on him! No!
Marinette pulled back immediately, her eyes welling with tears. “I’m sorry, I--”
Chat silenced her with another kiss, wrapping his arms around her, his clawed hands roaming over her back. Her eyes fluttered closed and the scents of him--charcoal, leather, and the unique aroma of his sweat--tickled her nose.
The timer’s beeping faded to the back of her awareness. She ran her thumbs over his cheekbones, over his mask, over the proof of himself as a superhero. Whoever he was under this mask, she loved him.
They had to talk. Marinette knew that. But for now, she could kiss the boy she loved and enjoy it.
Marinette tilted her head, opening her lips for him. His kiss was tentative; nothing like Chat Blanc’s confident charge into her mouth. Marinette took her time cataloguing the differences.
Chat Noir, for one, didn’t have fangs. She ran her tongue over his very blunt, very human teeth, and didn’t fear cutting her lower lip or her tongue on them. Chat Noir wasn’t holding her by her neck, pushing her into him and forcing the pace; he let her lead. Though Chat Noir’s hands were roaming over her back, he was using the pads of his fingers and not popping holes in her jacket.
She was comfortable with his kiss, something she couldn’t say for Chat Blanc.
And again, Chat Noir was warm. Everything about him was warm; heat rolled off him in waves and suffused her in it. The warmth made her lightheaded even as she reveled in the feverish feeling.
And he was warm in other ways, too--though his kiss was more restrained than Chat Blanc’s, Chat Noir’s was no less passionate. He groaned into her mouth, sweeping his tongue over her palate and licking her teeth.
His timer beeped for the last time.
Marinette saw the flash of green light under her closed eyelids. She no longer felt his mask under her fingers as she cupped his cheeks. The skin-to-skin contact thrilled her; she was kissing Chat as a civilian, and if she wanted to know who he was, all she had to do was open her eyes.
So she did, and breathed his air into her lungs in a gasp.
“Adrien?” she spoke against his mouth, causing him to open his own eyes. “Adrien Agreste?”
Plagg was nowhere in sight, so Marinette figured he may have flown off to find Tikki and the other Kwamis to leave the two holders to talk.
Adrien smiled against Marinette’s lips. He pulled back and nodded a little, his cheeks kissed with color. “Is that okay?”
“It’s more than okay!” Marinette was flummoxed. “The other boy… That was you. I turned you down for you.”
Adrien barked out a laugh. “That’s just my luck. But you fell in love with Chat anyway?”
Marinette ducked, her cheeks burning. “Well, um. I actually fell in love with Chat Blanc first, and then Chat Noir.”
Adrien’s brows rose, but he didn’t seem to have a comment on that, except to say, “Oh.”
"You went for the butterfly, and…" Marinette drew a shuddering breath. "That wasn't fair, Adrien."
Adrien trailed his fingers down her cheek. "I'm sorry, Marinette. It won't happen again."
Remembering other times he'd put himself in danger, Marinette abruptly recalled the fight against Gorizilla and smacked Adrien in the chest. “How could you?” she said, furrowing her brow. “When Gorizilla dropped you off the roof, you could have transformed!”
“Oh, uh…” Adrien released her to rub the back of his neck, a gesture so familiar, she marveled at how she hadn't recognized him. “Um, yeah, I could have, but I trusted you to save me.”
“Your trust was misplaced!” Marinette waved her arms, frantic to make him understand her upset. “The only way I was able to save you was because Hawkmoth didn’t want to be responsible for an Adrien pancake at the bottom of the building!”
Adrien gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”
“Oh, my gosh!” Marinette stepped back so she could jab a finger in his chest. “You were Aspik, too!”
“And you were Multimouse.” Marinette quickly realized that Adrien didn’t want to talk about being granted the Snake Miraculous, so she focused instead on what he was going to say next. “How did you fool me?”
“Fox Miraculous.”
“Ah.” Adrien tapped his chin. “That checks out.”
Marinette huffed, folding her arms. She was spitting mad. “We have a problem.”
All of Adrien’s attention was on her at that moment. Marinette shivered to see Chat’s determined expression on his features; he looked like he was facing down an Akuma. “What is it?”
“You don’t have a bell.” A grin found its way to her lips despite herself. “So I can’t grab it to kiss you.”
Adrien laughed, the sound as clear as a bubbling brook. “I don’t think that’s an issue. But if you really want, I can transform again so the kissing can resume...”
Marinette didn’t waste Plagg’s time. She took Adrien into her arms and slammed her mouth on his, dipping the boy low.
Adrien giggled against her. “Your preferences have been noted.”
“Adrien.”
He fluttered his eyelashes, cupping her cheek. “Yes?”
She finally had her boy. And she wasn't going to put off showing him how much she loved him any longer.
“Shut up and kiss me.”