Chapter Text
“Happy Birthday”
Ladybug almost slips off the roof. Her shadow, strangely elongated by the setting sun, jumps across the surrounding housetops as she quickly regains her footing. Slightly shaken, she turns to face her partner.
“You don’t know my birthday, Chat Noir”, she frowns, eyes wandering from the smile plastered across his face to his outstretched fist.
“I know”, he says lightly, “but I also don’t know it’s not your birthday either.”
Opening his hand he reveals a small package resting in his palm. It’s about the size of a chicken egg, wrapped in wrinkly red silk paper with a slightly lopsided bow on top.
“I saw this and immediately thought of you. I wrapped it myself!”
Genuine pride makes his voice bubbly like lemonade, the faux cat ears on his head twitch in excitement. Ladybug can’t help but mirror his goofy grin. Her Chaton really is an overgrown kitten.
“It’s not a dead bird is it?” she teases “I know you strays think it’s cute but I really don’t appreciate carcasses on my porch.”
His free hand clutches his heart in a dramatic gesture as he lets out an exasperated gasp. “You wound me, Milady. Here I am, in all humbleness, presenting you with a gift to expurress my affection, and all I receive return is mockery.”
“Alright alright, keep your boots on, puss,” Ladybug giggles. “Let me see your token of affection.”
Carefully, as if the mere contact of her fingertips might cause it to break, she takes the package from his offering hand. It’s light, lighter than she anticipated, and soft to the touch, the wrapping paper crackling gently under her gloved fingers. Her skin tingles in anticipation. What could Chat Noir possibly gift her? She chews the insides of her lower lip, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Funny, she hasn’t been this giddy about a gift in years.
Next to her, Chat Noir chuckles.
“You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“That funny face of yours, the nose wrinkle thing”, he scrunches up his face to illustrate.
“No I’m not.”
“Of course you are!”
“I have never made that face in my life!”
“If you say so.”
Ladybug scoffs, “Whatever.”
Straightening her expression, she returns her attention to the mystery package. A gentle tug at the bow is enough to make it come loose, the ribbon smoothly gliding into her palm. The wrapping on the other hand is a bit more challenging. It appears her partner has been a bit bustling in his efforts and gone slightly overboard with the amount of tape used.
“Ugh, just rip it open.”
“Impatient kitty. It’s your own fault, nobody told you to use an entire roll of tape on this.”
“No need to get catty, bug.”
At last she manages to fiddle away the last strip of tape, shaking her hand in irritation as it immediately sticks to her fingertip. Holding her breath, she pushes back the wrapping paper to reveal -
“Finger puppets?”, her eyes widen in surprise.
Chat Noir’s shoulders shoot up as he scratches the back of his head.
“I saw this lady at an arts and crafts fair and she was crocheting them in the dozen. I mean all different ones of course, not the same ones all over again. That would be silly”, he laughs nervously, his eyes flickering from left to right.
“She was already done making all the superheroes and some of the Akumas and I thought ‘huh, Ladybug might like those, I think I’ll get her some’. I meant to get you an Akuma at first but I didn’t want to remind you of work so I thought some heroes would be cool, you know, since I definitely wanted to get you something and because the lady was so nice and so happy that someone like- that I was interested in her work and I really liked how small and soft she could make these little puppets, I’ve always been fascinated by people doing handiwork you know? Of course that doesn’t mean you have to like them, it’s totally okay if you find them dumb just tell me and I’ll take them back, you don’t have to keep them if you don’t want them, which is totally fine by the way, now that I think about it it might be strange to give you woollen puppet versions of ourselves, I didn’t mean to be creepy and I’m babbling aren’t I, I think I am. I’m sorry I’m just nervous you won’t like them, but no pressure of course you don’t have to - ”
“Chat”, Ladybugs voice is as warm as the smile spreading on her lips as she gently interrupts him “they’re wonderful. Absolutely adorable. Look mini you even has a bell!” she flicks it with her index finger, a happy giggle escaping her at the bright jingling.
Her partner sucks in a shaky breath.
“You like them?”
“I love them!” she wraps her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder “Thank you, Minou.”
It only takes him a tiny moment to return her hug.
“Happy perhaps-birthday, Milady.”
o
From that day on there is no holding him.
o
Two weeks later Chat hands her a red pebble at the beginning of patrol, telling her how he found it at the bank of the Seine.
“It has spots just like you, Ladybug. Look!”, his tail flicks behind him in excitement as he practically vibrates on the spot, “you must have it, they’re good luck!”
She doesn’t protest.
o
A month after that he returns a few minutes late to their meeting spot shoving a slightly dishevelled bouquet of forget-me-nots into her hands.
“They reminded me of your eyes. Sorry I’m late, the owner tried his best to force a discount on me”
With a laugh, she takes them from his claws. They smell heavenly.
o
A pretty feather that lay on the side walk, a pencil with a cat shaped eraser on top that he found while cleaning his room. The cherry lipbalm she had mentioned she was running out of. Whenever Chat Noir sees something reminding him of his lady, she can be sure to receive it at their next meeting, always carefully wrapped and always with a grin that lets her know just how pleased he is with himself.
o
“It could be your birthday, Milady”, he vehemently dismisses her shy attempts of protest, “we can never know for sure.”
“I know”, she mutters, cheeks burning.
“But I can’t! Imagine if it actually was your birthday and I had just seen the perfect present and not gotten it for you” his eyes widen, “Nu-uh. Not gonna happen. Better be safe than sorry!”
She can’t really argue with that.
o
“I can’t accept this”, she argues, the flat wooden box heavy in her gloved fingers, “no way.”
“Why not”, he whines, “You didn’t bat an eye at that roll of washi-tape three weeks ago”
“That’s something completely different!”
“Look, it even has those tiny white eye spot thingies.”
Against her better judgment Ladybug allows herself another look at the charm necklace, its red and black stones glistening in the shine of the street light.
“Listen, Chat, it’s not that it’s not pretty. Because, wow, it’s stunning. It’s just… This is getting out of hand. How did you even get this? I thought Miraculously Charming was only supposed to be released next week.”
She would know. She has spent the six months since the announcement raiding fashion magazines for any scraps of information on the release.
Her partner chuckles nervously not meeting her eyes.
“A cat has his ways you know…”
“Chat Noir, what did you do? Did you break into their safe or something?”
It was supposed to be a joke, but her tone betrays her. He wouldn’t do that. Right? Right?
“Calm down, please. I promise there’s nothing fishy about it. I’m not Paris’ next cat-burglar I just - ”, he sighs, “listen I won’t force it onto you if you really don’t want it. It was never my intention to make you uncomfortable or anything, I just thought you might like it. You know, after how much you liked the ladybug ring from the bubble gum machine.”
“Chat, this is a designer necklace. I can’t even imagine how much this must have cost you.”
That’s a lie. She has seen the prizes of each piece on those glossy advert pages in her magazines. The ridiculous number of digits before the Euro sign quickly put a screeching halt to all fantasies of maybe getting even the tiniest of the charms.
His laughter has nothing of it’s usual lightness. Its a dry, cynical sound that scrapes along her skin like a dull knife, making her shudder. “Trust me”, he says, his voice as hard as the stones on the necklace, ”I might have some issues with the Agreste Brand, but their prices are really not the problem.”
Perhaps it’s the sudden bitterness of his tone, or the way he still avoids looking into her eyes as he stretches out his hand to take the gift box from her. Perhaps she just wants this necklace more than she cares to admit.
“It’s a wonderful present, Chat. I couldn’t have wished for anything better for my perhaps-birthday”, she gently nudges her partner’s arm.
”Just promise that this is the last time you give me something that will require selling my kidney to pay you back.”
He glances at her, his expression sheepish “Purromise.”
o
It’s that night she decides that it’s finally time to join the game. After all she can’t just stand there and let her partner shower her in presents.
o
The next time they are about to split up to cover more ground at patrol she grabs his arm.
“I passed the Dupain Cheng Bakery on my way here”, the size of his eyes as she pulls out a pastry bag is enough to give her a good chuckle, “I heard they make the best croissants in all of Paris.”
He nods, gaze fixed on the bag.
“If we eat now, they’ll still be warm.”
“You’re pawesome, Milady. Has anyone ever told you that? Tail-twistingly pawesome. I don’t deserve you.”
Ladybug fights back a giggle, somehow finding herself unable to meet his adoring look, “Please, Chaton, anything for the perhaps-birthday-boy!”
o
It seems as if his excitement only gets bigger every time she feeds him baked goods. Chocolate bread, Eclairs, bises. Whatever it is she brings from the bakery, he is sure to devour it eagerly, showering her and the Dupain-Chengs with praise as he does.
When she brings her home made chocolate cookies for the first time Chat Noir literally does a little dance around her.
“It’s like I died and woke up in chocolate heaven!”, he sighs, both hands and lips smeared with chocolate, his eyes glossed from what looks dangerously like sugar rush, “and you’re the angel, bringing me sweet sugary salvation.”
“You’re ridiculous” Ladybug replies, her face flooding with heat. Perhaps she has had too much sugar already. Or is it the afternoon sun that has been burning her cheeks?
o
It takes her three attempts (she has to catch up after all) and some not so subtle prying during an abnormally long Akuma attack to find out his favourite macaron flavour.
It’s a tricky one. By the time she finally gets the consistency right Marinette is so exhausted that she burns the first tray and, judging by the smell, the kitchen almost along with it.
But Chat Noirs face as he takes the first bite instantly makes up for the two hours she spend scrubbing the oven last night.
“You like the passion fruit one’s, kitty?” The only answer is a overpowering purr as he topples over, his eyes closing from enjoyment. He almost rolls of the beam they are sitting on.
“Careful, chaton, would be no good to fall off the Eiffel Tower over a pastry.” She grabs him by the tail as he loops his limbs around the beam like a very happy sloth. His purring makes the entire construction vibrate beneath them. Ladybug laughs.
“You okay there? Can you sit upright like a normal person?”
“No. Feed me sugar.”
She reaches for the next one and pops it into his expectantly opened mouth.
“So good”, eyes still closed, he pulls himself back up to nestle down beside her, his head coming to rest in her lap. She begins scratching behind his leather ears and the purr grows even louder. A yawn escapes him.
“Aww, would you look at that tired kitty”, a smile spreads on her lips as she looks down on her partner. He deserves to rest. In fact Ladybug can feel her own eyelids growing heavier and heavier by the minute. Today’s Akuma truly was a vicious one, fuelled by jealousy and she seemed to have it out for Chat in particular. Gently, ever so gently Ladybug keeps stroking his hair. Neither says a word until a soft snore mixes into the purr, his shoulders relaxing against her thighs.
“Are you sleeping, Chaton?”, the sun has begun to set, its fiery light turning his hair into spun gold under her fingers. She closes her eyes against the rays caressing her face and realises that she has begun to hum along with his purring. A content sigh escapes her lips. She could sit like this till dawn, her kitty at her side, the noise of the city continuously humming beneath them. Still, she can’t keep him here. His parents are bound to notice his absence at one point and the last thing she wants is to get him into trouble at home. It seems… difficult enough there. It’s like a cloud has pushed in front of the sun, the promise of the evening chill making her shiver for the first time. Not that he openly complains about his home life. But there are signs that have her worried, signs that make it even harder to interrupt his soft purring now as he softly nudges his head against her caressing hand. He looks so peaceful. So vulnerable. Ladybug can’t help but wonder when she has last seen him so completely at ease.
With a sigh she leans down, her pig tails brushing against his cheek prompting another adorable spike in purrs.
“Time to head back, Chat”, she whispers. Her hand moves from his ear to his chin and she flicks his bell. He answers with an incomprehensible mumble.
“C’mon, kitty it’s getting late.”
“Noo”, his soft whine is enough to make her heart melt. How much she’d love to give in, to stay in this exact moment with him. But there also outside at an exposed spot in nothing but skin tight suits. Magical skin tight suits, sure, but she doesn’t want to test her luck.
“You’re still asleep. Come on let’s get you to bed.”
His head shakes ever so slightly in her lap “Noo… I… stay here. ‘s nice.”
“Nicer than your own bed? I for one know that I love mine.”
More head shaking “Love it … here.”
He crawls even closer, curling around her like the world’s largest lap cat. It has to be that thought that has her start petting his hair again, her fingers playing with soft blond strands and twitching cat ears. He nuzzles into the touch, the arm she hasn’t even noticed wrapping around her waist pulling her against him now, his nose poking her stomach through the suit.
“Love it here”, he confirms, brows furrowing for a second before relaxing once more. She can tell he’s already drifting of again.
”Love… you.”
The last word is hardly understandable, nothing than a mumble mixing into his purring snore already. He is soundly asleep now, his breathing deep and steady whereas hers seems to have fallen out of rhythm suddenly. She tries her best to follow his lead, focusing on the pattern of his shoulders rising and falling beneath her touch. High and low. In and out. Breathe. She looks up to watch the sun completely dip over the horizon. The shadows around her grow rapidly, darkness spilling out from beneath the trees below and the beams around her. It spreads and spreads, the night determined to swallow the lingering warmth of the sun. But the city below them keeps twinkling and glistening, fighting off the dark in a stubborn attempt to hold onto the day, onto the evening just a little longer. Ladybug finds herself try the same, holding onto her partner, onto the smell of the evening slowly fainting from the air like a fading memory. Hold onto this feeling. Even if it’s just for a moment.
Love it here. Her thoughts wander back to his sleepy voice, to the mumbled words she does not even dare to repeat in her head, the words that made her heart skip a beat, flicker like the stars that now slowly bud on the darkening sky. She must have heard him wrong. Mistaken his snoring for something different. Something more. A chill creeps down her spine and she tries to convince herself that it’s the cool sensation of the breeze playing with her ribbons and nothing else. She can’t allow herself to think anything else. He would never – Even if he had, it doesn’t matter. Sleeptalkers are not famous for being reliable sources. A small whine, a soft shift against her palm reminds her of her hand that has come to rest right behind his cat ears. She absentmindedly continues playing with his hair instantly rewarded by his soft purring. They’re partners. Nothing more. Surely he didn’t mean- Of course not. This is not a direction she ought to let her thoughts wander. Any confusion about their relationship is in the past. It’s a dangerous subject, better to let sleeping cats lie, especially if you put them to sleep yourself all this time ago. His friendship is the best gift she could ask for. She shouldn’t – doesn’t want anything more. Still, her pulse betrays her, quickening as she glances down at his sleeping face, stumbling at the quirk of his mouth. His lips are an adorable pout softly fluttering with each breath. His eyes move rapidly behind the closed lids, his hand against the small of her back twitching and she can’t help but wonder if he’s dreaming about chasing birds. A soft giggle fills her chest, warding her against the evening chill as she feels her expression soften. Her own sleepiness has left her body, his purr vibrating through her bones, teasing her stuttering heart. Electricity floods her veins, but she doesn’t move, wouldn’t move for the world.
“Oh, kitty”, she sighs, black cat ears turning into her direction to pick up the whisper of her voice, “whatever are we going to do?”