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Chapter Text

Adrien’s mouth hovered millimeters away from Ladybug’s as she hung upside down outside his open window. Her hand was clenched on his chest, and she licked her pretty, plump lips, drawing his attention to them. They were wet and inviting, and all he wanted to do was... “Ladybug, I…” would very much like to kiss you.

“Yes, Adrien?” Ladybug whispered, her words closer to a purr than an actual whisper.

Adrien didn’t know how things had progressed to this point, it was all a bit of a blur of red leather and bluebell eyes, but he wasn’t complaining. She’d saved him from an Akuma after school, defeating it handily while defending his useless self when he couldn’t slip away to transform.

Then she’d carried him bridal style to his room. Now he could taste the raspberries and cream--tart and sweet--she’d eaten last, inhaling her breaths as their lips hovered mere inches from one another. The sensation of breathing her in made him heady and made his head spin.

Holding his breath, daring to dream, he reached out and gently trailed his knuckles over her smooth cheek, eliciting a visible shiver across her skin . She gasped, sucking in their co-mingled breath from the heavy air, and a secret thrill spilled chills down Adrien’s spine. He shivered, feeling goosebumps dance across his exposed arms.

Ladybug was staring up at him with her gorgeous, bluebell eyes, wide and searching. “A-Adrien.” Her cheeks were painted a beautiful dusky rose color, though Adrien couldn’t tell if that was due to proximity to him or because she was hanging upside down and the blood was rushing to her head. He didn’t dare hope that it was because of him, not yet.

She swayed in the wind. His hand slipped behind her neck, steadying her.

“I…” Adrien started. “I lo--” Moving as one, they slammed their mouths together, stealing Adrien’s words. Ladybug gripped at his collar in one hand, tugging him forward until his knees bumped against the window pane. He groaned into her mouth, a needy sound, parting his lips gladly for her questing tongue.

His hands grasped at her shoulders, hard enough to bruise if not for the suit, and pulled her into the room. Ladybug broke from his mouth to turn over, landing in a crouch on his floor. After a brief, hooded look that set his nerve endings ablaze, she was on him again, her lips gliding across his and her hands threading their way through his hair.

Adrien matched her hunger, his tongue peeking through his lips to tangle with hers in an aggressive caress. Ladybug opened for him, and as he plundered her mouth with his tongue, a possessive rumble built in the back of her throat.

His eyes fluttered closed. Ladybug tugged at the short hairs at the back of his neck as she devoured his lips, sending electricity dancing down his spine. The soft sounds of their lips sliding against each other’s and Ladybug breathy sighs heated his face, heat he was sure Ladybug could feel.

Kissing her was so good, so, so good, and he never wanted it to stop.

Heat pooled in his belly as his hands roamed across her back, he felt the cool webbing of her suit beneath his fingertips. So that’s what that feels like, he idly mused, until his thoughts were driven out of his head again by her soft moans.

She tasted exquisite; his tongue chased the sharp and sweet taste in the back of her mouth. Her scent--vanilla and coffee and soil--filled his nose, driving him mad with the way his senses were filled with her. Ladybug smelled mostly of plants, giving him a forbidden glimpse into her everyday life, a glimpse which electrified him.

Adrien pulled her close, her small chest pressing tight to his. His heart slammed in his chest, her own pounding in sync against breastbone. One hand slipped down to her hip, cradling her even closer. Ladybug was teasing him, dragging her tongue along the length of his own, and Adrien could only wonder at how he’d gotten so lucky.

This didn’t seem real. If this was a dream, Adrien prayed he never awoke. He was making out with Ladybug. They were kissing each other, chasing each other down and moving about the room in a dance known only to them.

At least, Adrien hoped the dance was known only to them.

Adrien heard a girlish shriek from across the street. “No freaking way!”

Ladybug broke away from him as if scalded, her cheeks a pretty rose and her lips kiss-swollen, whirling to face the intruder. “Alya!” Ladybug hissed, turning back to Adrien with wide eyes. “She’s filming us!”

Adrien gasped, a bit out of breath from the make-out session. Until he realized they were sunk, he was too distracted by what a lovely image she made while spitting mad. His cheeks heated with shame as he asked his question:

“What do we do?”

Ladybug didn’t answer in words; she threw her yo-yo out the window and swung to the roof where Alya stood gleefully watching them. Adrien didn’t hear the conversation, but he didn’t have to: from the hunched set of Ladybug’s shoulders, he knew things were tense.

Then he heard her cry in outrage, “You were live streaming?”

Alya looked entirely too pleased with herself. Adrien frowned. He watched Ladybug shake her head and point at Alya, then gesture aggressively outward to the scenery beyond.

We’re in trouble. Adrien’s chest shuddered as his breath hitched. He didn’t know what his classmates would think. What his fans would think. What his father would think.

His father’s thoughts were the most concerning to Adrien. The boy was sixteen now, certainly old enough to be dating someone, but Gabriel would likely not approve of a relationship with a superheroine.

But Adrien found it hard to care about what people would think in the face of him dating Ladybug. Their opinions on his relationship to her were immaterial.

Not that he and Ladybug were dating. Not even as much as Adrien wanted to. Adrien’s eyes flicked to Alya’s smug smile. Dating would be a terrible idea right now.

Ladybug cut the air with her hand in a sharp gesture to abruptly end whatever conversation they had been having. She threw her yo-yo onto the roof of Adrien’s house and swung back to his window. Adrien didn’t know why, but she chose to hang upside down again.

Her lips looked just as pretty, just as soft, and just as kissable as they were before, even though they were pursed in a moue of disappointment. Adrien knew kissing her would be a horrible idea, but he wanted it more than anything.

Adrien bit his lip hard enough to taste blood to keep himself from closing the distance and planting another kiss on hers. Ladybug’s eyes were too lined with worry to be encouraging to him. “What’d she say?”

Ladybug gave him a pained grimace that spoke volumes. “She was live streaming… While we…”

“Made out.” Saying the words threw what they’d done into sharp relief. The make out was all too real to Adrien now--real, and not very lucky.

I am the poster boy for bad luck, after all, Adrien lamented. “What do we do?”

“There’s nothing we can do,” Ladybug said, her brow furrowed. Adrien again wondered if the blood was rushing to her head, her cheeks were still dusted pink, or if Tikki kept her Holder from common ailments like dizziness. “People will think….”

“We’re…”

“Dating.”

Adrien rubbed his forehead, already dreading what he was about to say. “We can’t, though.”

“No,” Ladybug agreed, the words sending a pang of sadness through his chest. He rubbed his breastbone, trying to ease the phantom ache. “We can’t.”

“So we do damage control,” he reasoned. Adrien was well-versed in damage control; he’d been trained by the most expensive PR people in Paris. “I’ll release a statement to my fans on Instagram before they crucify you.”

“And I can probably secure an interview with Alya.” Ladybug rolled her eyes. “I doubt she’d jump at the chance to fix what she started, but she’s always up for an interview.”

“Ladybug, I…” Adrien reached out, intending to stroke her cheek with his thumb, to just reestablish a connection with her, but pulled back. “I don’t regret making out with you,” he finished quietly.

Ladybug closed her eyes, and Adrien flinched, already anticipating what she would say. The intense set of her shoulders slowly relaxed. When she opened her eyes again, her gaze was soft, and a little sad. “I don’t regret making out with you, either, Adrien.” His heart fluttered in his chest.

She’d used his name! Adrien was over the moon! But he didn’t know where they would go from here... “So… Uh…” He nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I’ll see you at the next Akuma attack?”

Ladybug gave him a sharp look. “I sure hope not, Adrien. I wouldn’t want you in danger.”

Adrien smiled. She was looking out for him? The thought of being looked after by Ladybug of all people warmed his heart. “Better call that cat, then.”

Ladybug inhaled sharply through her nose in aggravation. “He’d better pick up.”

Adrien wanted to say something, anything, that would keep her there, keep her with him. But he’d shot himself in the foot with the cat comment; Ladybug was already glancing away, her fingers tightening on her yo-yo cable. “Ladybug, I wanted to tell you that I…”

She turned back to him, her gaze so bright and hopeful that Adrien’s heart slammed into his throat, choking off his words. “Yes, Adrien?”

“I want to wish you good luck. With Akumas. And stuff,” he tried lamely.

Adrien mentally facepalmed. That wasn’t what he wanted to say at all! He yearned to tell her that he loved her, had loved her, that he was in her corner, that he was the boy she’d rejected all these years. The desire to tell her that he wanted nothing more than to kiss her again and again burned within him.

But his tongue felt like cotton in his mouth. He tried speaking the words anyway, but they came out as a whispered sputter.

Ladybug smiled at him softly. “Thanks, Adrien. I’ll see you around. I guess.”

“I guess.” Adrien raised his hand to forlornly wave goodbye. But she was already dropping off the roof and throwing her yo-yo to a different one. He sighed, his shoulders slumping in dejection.

“Plagg,” Adrien said, opening his overshirt to glance in the Kwami’s pocket. Plagg was sleeping, so Adrien poked him awake.

“What?” Plagg grumbled, turning over in the pocket. “Leave me alone.”

“I need to transform, Plagg.” Adrien poked the Kwami again. Plagg was incredibly warm. “Ladybug is going to call Chat.”

“That sounds like a you problem.”

Adrien sighed, frustrated. “I don’t want to use you against your will, Plagg.”

Plagg gave him a skeptical look. “You don’t have it in you.”

“I…” Adrien wilted, because Plagg was right. “I really don’t.” He gave Plagg the kitten eyes. “Please, Plagg?”

Plagg let loose a noise that sounded like he was coughing up a hairball. Alarmed for the sake of his overshirt, Adrien’s brows shot up. “Fiiiiiiine,” Plagg whined, floating out of the shirt. “But you’ll owe me. Camembert. The expensive kind.”

“Of course, Plagg.” Adrien beamed. “Claws out!”

His baton was already ringing by the time the green light entirely washed over his body, coating him in magical leather. He pole-vaulted to the other roof and picked up. “Jacques Cousteau’s Pizza?”

“Not funny, Kitty.” Ladybug sounded exasperated. “Where were you during the most recent Akuma attack?”

Chat shifted on his feet, scrambling for an excuse. “I got… tied up with something.” It was true; Adrien had been tied up before Ladybug had rescued him. The Akuma was a nasty piece of work that shot webs from her fingers. Facing a spider had reminded Adrien of Ananzi, so he’d frozen up.

“Don’t tell me.” Ladybug’s words were dry as dust. “You got hit in your civilian form.”

“Okay!” Chat chirped, trying anything to lighten the mood. “I won’t tell you.”

He could hear her rolling her eyes before he saw her do so. But her next sentence surprised him. “Well, as long as you got out of it and are safe now, that’s all that matters.”

“Is that all you wanted to call me for, Bug?” Chat asked, not meaning to press her but also totally meaning to press her. He pressed his finger to his chin. “Or did you just want to see my handsome face?”

Ladybug hesitated. Adrien hated being the source of her hesitation; normally she’d be brash and confident, and he knew that she’d paused because she didn’t want to hurt him.

“I…” Ladybug furrowed her brow. “I kissed someone today.”

Chat forced his ears to droop. He’d been well-trained in affecting his expressions. Now he went for ‘disappointed and scorned lover,’ turning his lips down at the corners and giving her the kitten eyes he’d given Plagg earlier. “Oh?”

Ladybug looked away, nibbling on her lip. She was hesitating again, scrambling for her own excuse, and Chat couldn’t stand it.

“Who is it, Bug?” he whispered, gripping his baton in both hands. “You can tell me. I won’t get upset.”

Ladybug’s eyes softened. “Adrien Agreste.”

Chat sucked a breath over his teeth in faux surprise. He couldn’t help it; hearing his name drop from her lips was entrancing.

“Bug.” Chat’s hand trembled as he ran it through his hair. “I have to know. Is he the other boy?”

“You know I can’t tell you that, Kitty.” Ladybug’s tone brooked no argument, but her eyes glanced away, hesitant again. “Anyway, Alya live streamed us kissing and Instagram is blowing up with death threats.”

Chat’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. “Death threats? What?”

“I wish I were joking.” Ladybug turned her eyes back to the screen. “There’s some against me and some against him. Fans are crazy.” Ladybug’s mouth pulled down at the corners in a dismayed frown. “I need to ask you a favor, Chat.”

Chat had been marveling at the intensity of their fans, but when Ladybug told him that, he straightened his shoulders. “Anything, Bug.”

“I need you to keep an eye on Adrien for me.”

Chat nodded, his heart suddenly warmer. Ladybug really was looking out for him. “And make sure your fans don’t get to him? I can do that.”

Chat wasn’t sure what he’d do if Ladybug insisted on checking on him in his civilian form when he was supposed to watch himself in his superhero form, but he’d figure something out. He hoped.

If all else fails, I could just reveal myself. Chat nearly giggled aloud at the prospect, but Ladybug was being serious, so he couldn’t. Death threats were serious enough to make her worry, so they should be doubly worrying for him.

“Thanks, Chat.” Ladybug rubbed her forehead, looking wearier then he’d seen her in awhile. “Listen, I…”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry.”

Chat blinked owlishly at her. “For what?”

Ladybug made a helpless gesture, trying to convey the things she was failing at saying. “For hurting your feelings? I know you… like me, so...”

Chat shook his head. “I can’t control whom you kiss, Ladybug.” He offered her a self-deprecating smile. “As much as I’d like to. But this Adrien guy… He’d better recognize how lucky he is, okay?” Chat shook his fist on the screen. “Otherwise, I’ll pound him.”

Ladybug laughed wetly. If Chat didn’t know any better, he’d think she was about to cry. “But you’re supposed to be watching him so he doesn’t get pounded.”

“Oh, yeah.” Chat grinned. “Don’t worry, Buginette. I’ll take my duties seriously.”

“Thanks, Chat.”

She hung up after a quiet goodbye, and Chat was left staring at his baton. “Death threats?” Chat leapt back to his room and shut the window. “Plagg, claws in.”

Plagg held his hands out instantly in a ‘gimmie’ gesture. “Cheese. Hearing you two dance around each other was painful enough that I wanted to stop up my ears with camembert rather than eating it. And you know how annoying that would be.”

“I know, Plagg, I know, I just… Death threats?” Adrien shook his head in dismay and crossed to the mini-fridge.

Plagg shrugged, uncaring, trailing behind Adrien. “People are nuts about you. And her. I thought you knew that.”

“I did, but…” Adrien unwrapped a wheel of camembert and tossed a slice to Plagg, who caught it in the air and snarfed it down in one bite. “I thought people would be more… I don’t know. Civil.”

Plagg snorted. “Better do damage control while there’s still something left to salvage. More cheese.”

Adrien tossed him another wedge absentmindedly. “Good point.” Carrying the camembert, the boy crossed to his computer desk and sat down, wiggling the mouse to wake up the screen.

After giving Plagg yet another slice of cheese, Adrien steeled himself and logged onto his Instagram account. His jaw dropped. His notifications had positively blown up, with everyone and their mothers messaging him to ask him if he and Ladybug were dating.

He wordlessly scrolled through several angsty and angry messages, many of them from broken-hearted fans of his and some of Ladybug’s as well. Adrien shifted on his chair, feeling markedly uncomfortable with the amount of attention he was getting. He’d never been that comfortable with attention regardless of how much his father wanted him to model, but this… This was on another level.

A few of the messages offered support to him regarding his relationship with Ladybug, and Adrien seized upon those wholeheartedly. Almost every single message, positive or negative, assumed they were dating. Adrien sighed.

He lifted his phone and took a beaming selfie, his hand on his chin. Uploading the photo to Instagram, he captioned the picture. “Have no worries! @theofficialLadybug and I aren’t dating.” The words tasted like ash in his mouth.

"Hopefully that'll be enough," Adrien told Plagg, sighing as he tossed his phone on the desk.

Plagg was ever the pessimist. "I doubt it."

"Plagg," Adrien worried, his eyes widening. "What do I do if it's not enough?"

"Deal with that fallout when it comes." Plagg shrugged his tiny shoulders. "And be sure to check if someone is filming you before you kiss anyone in public."

"No kidding, Plagg." Adrien grimaced. "No kidding."

Chapter Text

The day after Ladybug had kissed Adrien, Marinette walked down the hall towards her lycee science class, trepidation in her every step. Adrien would be there, as well as Alya.

Surely Alya won't be confronting him. Surely not!

Marinette could move to Siberia. All she'd have to do is convince her parents to uproot their lives and travel across Europe. Yes, yes, she could turn around right now, run home, and never show her face at the school again.

It won't be so bad. Marinette's trembling hands, betraying the lie in her thoughts. Who am I kidding? This will be terrible!

By the time Marinette reached the threshold of the door to the class, she was beginning to panic. Her breaths came thick and fast, making her head spin and her vision grow spotty.

"So give us the deets!" Marinette watched Alya slap her hand down on Adrien's desk and felt like fainting on the spot. "Were her lips soft? Warm? Comfortable? What's it like dating the Savior of Paris, Adrien Agreste?"

"First of all," Adrien began, holding up a finger, "as I said, we're not dating. Secondly--" He caught Marinette's eyes in the doorway and winked. She swooned, but was the light-headedness from her crush or from the dread of the situation? "--I never kiss and tell."

Alya scoffed, folding her arms. "You're no fun, Adrien!"

Seeing the determined glint in Alya's eyes, Marinette's stomach bottomed out. Definitely dread, then. Alya was a journalist on a mission, and she wouldn't stop until she got her story.

Alya continued grilling Adrien, looming over him with her most intimidating look. “What do you think Chat Noir feels about this?”

Marinette forced herself to finally step into the classroom. "Alya--"

"M!" Alya bounced back on the balls of her feet. Then she seemed to temper her reaction, visibly calming down and frowning a little. "I need to talk to you after class, okay?"

"Okay." Marinette wanted to scream. She yearned to babble at Adrien, to apologize for getting him into this mess. But he looked as cool as a cucumber, or at the very least a chilled watermelon.

Marinette took her seat behind Adrien, her knees knocking together. He turned to her with a smile, which morphed into a small frown when he saw her face.

"Hey," he said. "Are you alright? You look pale."

As Alya settled into the seat next to Marinette, she flashed Adrien a reassuring grin and a thumbs up. "I'm duper super! I mean perfect picture! I mean… I'm great? Thanks for asking!"

Alya shook her head in disappointment and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Marinette, Marinette, Marinette…"

The teacher called the class to attention, and Adrien turned back to the front. Marinette tried not to fall in love with the back of his head as usual, but his hair was just so pretty. Now that she knew what his lips felt like, she couldn’t stop imagining pressing her mouth to his, even going so far as to doodle two stick figures kissing in her notebook.

As the teacher droned on about Punnett squares, Alya passed her a note. With trepidation settling in her stomach, Marinette unfolded it. “M, how do you feel about Adrien dating Ladybug?”

Marinette scribbled a reply. “They’re not dating.”

“That’s what they’ve claimed,” Alya wrote, pursing her lips down at the paper. “But do you really believe that?”

“I do.”

“Then are you okay with them kissing?” Alya glanced at her, her eyes soft and sad. “Aren’t you upset?”

Marinette furrowed her brow, thinking hard about her answer. “I… I’m not sure my opinion is germane to the situation.”

“Oh, man, did I piss you off?” Alya looked alarmed while responding to her note. “You’re speaking all formal. And ‘not germane to the situation’? That’s your crush!”

Picturing the way Adrien’s tongue teased hers, Marinette barely bit back an inappropriate giggle. She schooled her features into what she hoped was an expression of sadness and disappointment. Shaking her head mournfully, she wrote Alya a reply. “He’s my crush, yes. But he can kiss whomever he wants.”

“Ouch, M.” Alya laid a hand on her shoulder again in a comforting manner. “I didn’t realize you’d be cool with this. You must be super upset.”

“I’m not upset, Alya.”

Not at all. Marinette wondered when her friend decided that Adrien’s business was her business, but then Marinette figured this wasn’t about Adrien. This was about Ladybug, and Alya had long considered everything Ladybug to be fair game.

And, Marinette realized, she would be upset with Adrien kissing Ladybug if Ladybug weren’t also her. So she decided to throw Alya a bone, hoping it would also get Alya off the topic.

“Okay, I’m a little upset,” Marinette wrote on the folded sheet of paper. Alya gave her an encouraging smile and then a look of pity. “What do I do, Alya? Adrien kissed Ladybug. He clearly likes her.”

Inwardly, Marinette was screaming in joy. Adrien liked Ladybug! Eeeee! But then despair abruptly overtook her. If he likes Ladybug, there’s no way he’ll like Marinette.

She laughed at herself. If I keep having these mood swings, I’ll never be stable enough to figure out what to do about Adrien liking Ladybug.

Marinette passed the note back to Alya, who took a long, long look at it. Marinette wondered what was going through her friend’s mind.

Alya covered the note with her cupped hand as she wrote out a reply. Then she passed the note to Marinette, whose eyes widened when she read what was written. “You must be heartbroken. Why don’t I set you up with someone?”

Marinette shook her head vehemently, but Alya took the note back and started writing again. “What about Chat Noir? He’s probably devastated, too.”

Date Chat Noir? No way! Marinette crossed her wrists together in an X shape, rapidly shaking her head. She stuck her tongue out to further indicate her displeasure with the suggestion, and Alya chuckled.

Alya quickly scribbled another sentence. “Think about it, Marinette. Chat Noir is quite a catch.”

Marinette huffed in annoyance. “He’d like you to think that, I’m sure.”

Alya sucked a breath over her teeth. “Ouch.”

“Don’t you dare, Alya,” Marinette wrote back furiously. “Don’t you dare tell him I’m single.”

Alya gave her a skeptical look. “It wouldn’t be a lie. You’re not dating anyone.”

Marinette frowned. “That’s beside the point.”

Alya blew Marinette a raspberry, stopping abruptly in order to not alert the teacher, who was still droning on about squares at the front of the class. “Give him a chance.”

She pursed her lips, wondering how she could get her complete denial across. “N.O.”

“Marinette.” Alya tapped her pen on the paper, clearly trying to think of a way to convince her friend. Marinette wasn’t having it; she swiped the note.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Marinette wrote, her handwriting becoming more and more cramped as she was quickly running out of room. “Chat is a wonderful human being. He’s funny, compassionate, loyal to a fault. Would, and has, died for Ladybug and to save the city, and he’s a good friend.”

“But…” Marinette’s pen stayed poised over the paper. But what? What was so wrong with Chat Noir? He really was a good catch. She could easily see herself dating a boy like him.

“But he’s clumsy,” Marinette decided. “He’s constantly flirting with Ladybug even though she’s told him he doesn’t have a chance.”

Alya raised her brows, clearly not convinced by her impassioned reasoning. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t date him. Adrien’s off the table now, so why not widen the field?”

Marinette was resolute in her decision, however. She wouldn’t fall in love with Chat if her life depended on it. “No, Alya.”

Alya sighed in resignation finally. “Fiiiiine.”

Marinette nodded down at the note. “Do you still need to talk to me after class?”

“Not really, no,” Alya wrote, chewing absent-mindedly on the end of her pen. Marinette wondered if it would burst in her mouth, spilling ink everywhere. “I’ve said all I need to say.”

Marinette tilted her head in question. “Maybe we could hang out anyway?”

Alya beamed. “I’d like that.”

***

“Chat! Chat Noir!” Alya hollered, catching Chat’s attention as he vaulted away from an Akuma attack. The Akuma had been Mr. Pigeon, again, so Chat hadn’t even needed to use his Cataclysm. While Ladybug had bugged out after using her Lucky Charm, Chat still had plenty of time left in his transformation.

He beamed down at Marinette’s friend and retracted his baton to land on the street next to her, securing the metal stick on his back in its place. “Hey, Alya! How’s my favorite reporter?”

“You flatter me.” Alya giggled, clearly pleased. She stashed her phone away; off the record it was then, which meant it must be serious. “I actually had a favor to ask you. You know Marinette Dupain-Cheng right?”

“Oh, yes!” Chat couldn’t help instantly gushing about Marinette. His everyday Ladybug was amazing. “She’s one of my good friends.”

“That’s what she said about you.” Alya had a shrewd look in her eye that he didn’t think he would like. Chat began to sweat from nerves. “Look, she’s absolutely devastated about Ladybug dating Adrien Agreste--”

“They’re not dating.”

“That’s what they want you to think.” Alya pressed her lips together. “Anyway, Marinette’s really torn up about the kiss, so I was wondering if you could… check on her? As a friend.”

“She’s upset about the kiss?” Chat said, his clawed hand coming up to cover his mouth in surprise. “I had no idea.”

He didn’t think Marinette of all people would be upset about that, why would she be? But if she was… He had to do something about it. He didn’t want his good friend to be upset. “Of course I’ll check on her.”

“Good, good. I’m sure she’ll love to hear from you.” Alya leaned into his space, her eyes glittering in excitement. “And maybe you could ask her out?”

Chat blinked owlishly in confusion at Alya. “Ask her out?” Had he heard her right?

When Alya nodded rapidly in confirmation, Chat’s stomach bottomed out in dread. He held up his hands. “Look, Alya, Marinette’s a good friend, but… But I don’t feel that way about her.”

Alya sighed explosively, her hands falling to her sides in a fashion Chat thought was rather dramatic. She adjusted her glasses, pushing them back up the bridge of her nose. “That’s a shame. I’m sure if you got to know her well, you might think differently.”

Chat shrugged, shifting awkwardly on his feet. “You know I love Ladybug, Alya, but I… I’ll start by checking on Marinette for you. Though I’m not sure how I’ll be able to help.”

Alya placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed tight. “Thanks, Chat. You’re a lifesaver.”

What had he just gotten himself into… “Anytime, Alya. Anytime.”

Chapter Text

Just as she was about to doze off in exhaustion at her desk wrapped up in a sewing project, Marinette heard a gentle tapping on her skylight. She roused, standing up and rubbing at her eyes, blanket slipping off her shoulders. Stretching her arms high above her head, she yawned, mouth opening wide.

“Come in,” she called sleepily, knowing there would only be one person who would tap at her skylight so late at night. She nearly rolled her eyes in exasperation when Chat’s smiling face filled her vision.

Chat rolled through the skylight onto her bed, landing on his knees, the mattress giving a groan beneath him. “Evening, Princess!”

“I think you mean night, Chat.”

Chat waved a hand dismissively. “Evening, night, whichever.” He beamed, all white teeth and good cheer. “I brought you a gift.”

“A gift?” Marinette stood at the bottom of her stairs, waiting for him to descend. He quickly took the hint, climbing down the stairs and unzipping his waist pocket along the way.

He slipped his fingers inside the pocket and knelt at her feet, bringing out a gorgeous, if slightly smushed, red poppy. “I found this in the most beautiful field just outside of Paris and thought of you.”

Marinette blinked in delighted surprise, gently taking the stem of the flower and twirling it in her fingers. “Thanks, Chat. That’s sweet.”

“May I?” Chat held his hand back out for the flower, and Marinette placed it in his waiting palm. He tucked the poppy behind her ear, his clawed fingers trailing over the loose strands of her hair that she’d left free to fall around her shoulders. “Did you know there’s a suspicion about these flowers?”

Marinette stared up at him towering over her. Since when had he gotten so tall? “Oh? What’s that?” Why did she sound so breathless?

“You have to be careful not to let the petals fall off while you’re picking it or you’ll be struck by lightning.”

Marinette couldn’t stop her amused giggle. “That’s quite a risk for a flower.”

Chat chuckled softly. “Don’t worry. You’re worth it.” He struck a pose, flexing his muscles in a show of prowess. “Besides, beautiful people don’t get struck by lighting.”

Marinette scoffed, crossing her arms. “Now you’re just making stuff up.”

“Maybe.” Chat beamed in delight. He glanced over to her desk, giving it a curious look. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Nah.” Marinette waved a hand dismissively. “Just a sewing project. Making a bag for Alya.” She gave him a once-over, sizing him up. “What did you really come for, Chat? Be honest with me.”

“When am I ever not honest with you, Princess?” Chat gave a cheshire grim. His smile soon faded, morphing into a pinched expression. “Alya said--”

“She didn’t!” Marinette threw her head back and groaned. “I can’t believe her.”

Chat blinked owlishly down at Marinette. “Oh?”

“She said you were a good catch, and I should ask you out.” Marinette folded her arms, tapping her foot in exasperation. “As if that would ever happen!”

Chat winced as if physically struck, and Marinette instantly regretted her words. He always kept his big heart on his leather sleeve, and she could always tell from the way his face fell if she’d upset him.

From the way he stared dejectedly at his feet, she determined she had. She sighed, taking his hand in both of hers. “Look, Chat, I…”

“I don’t want to ask you out.” Chat kept his gaze locked to the floor. He offered her feet a small smile and then glanced up. “But I did want to check on you. Alya said you were upset about the Ladybug-Adrien kiss. Are you okay?”

“The better question is are you okay?” Marinette stepped into his space, tucking his hair delicately behind his ear. “I know how you feel about Ladybug.”

Chat drew a long breath through his nose, expanding the muscles of his chest outward. “No one knows how I feel about Ladybug,” he whispered brokenly. “Least of all her.”

Marinette bit her lip, struggling with how to help without giving herself away. “So you are upset.”

Chat shook his head, his brilliant, green eyes shining brightly in her dark room. “No. She can kiss whoever she wants. I don’t control her.”

“That’s… understanding of you, Chat.” Marinette stared up at her friend and partner, stunned. “I… I’m still sorry you were hurt.”

Chat shrugged, glancing away and then back to her. “Don’t worry about me.” He grasped her chin in his hand, tilting her gaze up to meet his cheerless own. “I’m supposed to be checking on you. How are you, Marinette? Are you still upset?”

“No.” Marinette shook her head in his loose, gentle grip, but he didn’t let her go, the leather of his suit warm against her skin. “I’m not upset. Like you said, Ladybug can kiss whoever she wants. So can Adrien.”

Chat cocked his head to the side, staring down at her in sudden confusion. “Why would you be upset over Adrien kissing someone? I don’t get it.”

Marinette let loose a soft, bitter laugh. “Isn’t it obvious, Chat?” She offered him a self-deprecating smile and a half-hearted shrug. “I’m head over heels for him.”

Chat’s eyes widened comically. “What?” He stepped back and turned away quickly, covering his mouth with his hands. “Mmmm.”

“Chat?” Marinette placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay? That’s quite a reaction.”

“I just… I never thought that Adrien Agreste of all people would capture your attention?” Chat turned back to her, scrubbing a hand over his face. “He’s a lucky guy.”

Marinette huffed out a laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

“Ehhh.” Chat waved a hand back and forth. “So-so. You’re pretty great, Marinette. I would be jealous of him if you two were dating.”

Marinette withdrew her hand, rubbing at her elbow. “Oh, uh…”

“That’s not to say we should go out,” Chat said abruptly, holding up his clawed hands, his long, delicate fingers spread.

“Alya probably won’t quit so easily, though.” Marinette tapped her chin, thinking of their options. “Once she’s settled on shipping a couple, they have to go out, or she won’t leave them alone.”

Chat furrowed his brow in confusion, but then it smoothed out again. “We could… pretend to go out?”

Marinette’s jaw dropped open in surprise at his suggestion. “Like fake dating?”

Chat lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug, turning half away, his expression hesitant. “Sure, why not? We can continue to hang out as friends and throw off Alya’s suspicion.” He pointed at Marinette’s ear, and she took a moment to realize that he was gesturing to the flower. “And it would give me an excuse to bring you more gifts.” He almost sounded like he really wanted to.

Marinette snorted. “You like bringing people gifts, don’t you?”

Chat gave her a saucy grin and tapped at his chest. “Cat. Would you believe it’s the animal instincts in me?”

“Not a chance.”

Chat threw his head back and laughed, mirth shaking his entire body. He had a beautiful laugh, she thought, rich and deep with the right amount of good humor. He didn’t appear embarrassed by his reaction; he wasn’t shy and didn’t look like he was trying to hide like most people did when they laughed. The chortles just exploded outward, filling the room and catching Marinette in the belly with how contagious it was.

Watching his eyes narrow in pleasure, Marinette laughed right along with him. “It’s not even that funny!”

Chat wiped tears from his eyes, catching them on the backs of his clawed fingers. “It is! It’s hilarious!” He threw an arm around her shoulders and tugged her close to his chest, making her squeak. His mirth finally dying down, Chat stooped over and leaned on her, not enough to knock her over with his body weight, but it was a near thing.

Marinette shoved against his chest playfully, but he held fast. “Chat.”

Chat beamed in good humor down at her. “Marinette.”

Giving up for now, Marinette pursed her lips. “The fake dating thing... Why me? You’re not trying to make Ladybug jealous, are you?”

Chat shook his head empathetically, his feline ears drooping. “No. I just… I want her to know she’s free to pursue Adrien if that’s what she really wants. I won’t stand in the way.”

Marinette had no idea what to say to that. Would fake dating Chat really be so bad? she thought. She did want to spend more time with him. And he seemed comfortable with her civilian form in a way he wasn’t with Ladybug. When he wasn’t flirting and giving her pet names, Chat was a great person to hang out with. And Alya would back off, hopefully.

“Let’s do it.”

“Really?” Chat’s brows rose in surprise. “You’ll fake date me?”

“Yeah.” Marinette smiled up at him, feeling suddenly warm in his hold. “You’re my friend, Chat. And I want you to visit me more often.”

“Your dad won’t object?” Chat winked salaciously down at her. “Last time I broke your heart, he was pretty upset.”

“We don’t have to tell anyone but Alya.”

“Who will tell the world,” he reminded her.

Marinette booped his nose. “We can insist that she doesn’t.”

Chat furrowed his brow disbelievingly. “Then what’s the point of fake dating if people don’t know about it?”

“The only one who needs to know is Alya.”

Chat tilted his head. “What about Ladybug?”

“I guess you can tell her, too. But we don’t want this to go public.” Marinette reached up and squished his cheeks together. “Can you imagine if Hawkmoth found out you were dating someone?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

Marinette booped his nose, his eyes going cross-eyed as they followed her finger. “Always forgetting about Hawkmoth, aren’t you, Kitty?”

Chat sucked a breath over his teeth in sudden surprise. “Marinette.” He frowned deeply, the ugly expression twisting his lips. “Please don’t call me ‘Kitty.’ Ladybug calls me that.”

Marinette mentally kicked herself. She knew Ladybug called him that; she’d slipped into that comfortable banter Ladybug had with him and forgotten that she wasn’t transformed. “Sorry, Chat.”

“It’s cool.” Chat shrugged, but he didn’t sound like he meant it. One of his hands slipped to her shoulders, his other toyed with a few strands of her hair. “You should wear your hair down more often. It’s pretty this way.”

Marinette shook her head. “My hair’s getting super long. It needs to be cut.”

Chat smiled fondly. “Leave it long?”

“Is that a request from my fake boyfriend?”

Chat laughed again, not quite as deep bodied as before. He pressed a kiss to the strands he held and then let them drop back to hang over her shoulder. “Nah. Consider it the request of a friend.”

“We need to come up with rules for this.” Marinette tapped her chin thoughtfully. “First rule of a fake relationship: we’re just affectionate enough in public to be convincing to Alya and no more.”

“That’s fair.” Chat nodded in agreement. “And no kissing on the mouth, I assume.”

Marinette’s lips quirked upwards. “No. Cheek kisses are acceptable. Hugs are acceptable. But mouth kisses are not.”

“What about kisses on the wrist?”

Marinette tsked, shaking her head. “Back of the hand, maybe. Wrist kisses are too personal.”

Chat shook his head in return. “The back of the hand is mine and Ladybug’s thing.”

“Fair enough.” Marinette glanced to her desk, where pen and paper waited. “Should we put this into writing?”

“What, draw up a contract?” Chat furrowed his brow. “What if Alya finds it?”

“True, true.” Marinette sighed. “No over-the-top romantic gestures.”

Chat pouted, obviously disliking the suggested rule. “That seems tailored to me.”

Marinette winked at him. “It might be.”

“No lying to family.”

“Agreed. And never really fall in love.” Marinette nodded firmly. “That’s probably the most important rule.”

“I promise to never fall in love with you.” Chat held up his hand, as if making a pledge. “Scout’s honor.”

“Were you ever a scout?”

Chat waggled his brows. “No, but I have honor, don’t I?”

Marinette snorted. “Dubious.”

Chat gave her another pout, though this time she knew he was teasing her. “I feel called out.”

“You can feel that, sure.” Marinette patted his cheek in consolation. “Poor cat, never taken seriously wherever you turn.”

“It’s the ears, isn’t it?” Chat reached up and pinched a feline ear between his index finger and his thumb, giving the leather a good tug, though it went nowhere. “It’s always the ears. I’m just too cute for my own good.”

Marinette laughed, and Chat grinned down at her in return. “You are not.”

He poked her in the shoulder. “You can admit it. There’s nothing stopping you. I’m super cute.”

“I admit nothing.”

Chat flexed his arm muscles again, kissing his bicep. “She doesn’t mean it.”

Marinette blinked up at him in disbelief. “Are you talking to your muscles?”

“Someone has to appreciate them.” Chat squeezed his own bent arm twice. “May as well be myself.”

“Oh, my gosh, Chat.” Marinette pressed her fingers to her forehead. “You have the biggest ego.”

“There’s a difference between a big ego and a healthy self-esteem, Princess.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “You’re too much.” She placed her hands on his chest and gently pushed against him. “You should head out. It’s late and I have school in the morning.”

“Can I see you tomorrow night?” Chat looked so hopeful, she couldn’t say no. She knew deep down that he was a lonely boy with few friends in his everyday life, with a poor home life as well. Her heart went out to him before he even said his next words. “I’ll bring you more flowers. And we can play video games.”

Marinette shrugged, the casual gesture hiding the pounding behind her breastbone. “Sure, why not. Don’t get struck by lightning.”

Chat flashed her a sunny grin, making her heart jump up to her throat. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Chapter Text

“Adrien,” Gabriel said, striding into the dining room where Adrien was busy inhaling a steak salad for lunch. It had been two days since he’d kissed Ladybug, and his Instagram feed was still blowing up with people demanding answers about his relationship status.

“Father.” Adrien gripped his cloth napkin tightly under the table to give himself something to hold onto. He’d expected his father to visit his wrath upon him. Adrien just hadn’t expected it so soon.

“Son.” A muscle in Gabriel’s cheek twitched, betraying his irritation. His mouth twisted in disappointment, and Adrien’s heart instantly sank into his stomach. “How could you do this to Gabriel?”

Adrien nibbled on his lower lip, unsure of how to explain. “I’m sorry, Father. I don’t… I don’t know what came over me.”

Lies, Adrien’s subconscious whispered to him. He knew exactly what had come over him: the burning desire to kiss Ladybug, which he’d harboured for three straight years. Slamming his mouth on Ladybug’s had been entirely intentional.

“You’ll be doing an interview with Nadja Chamack this Saturday to set the record straight.” Gabriel lifted his phone out of his pocket and waved it in Adrien’s face to emphasize his displeasure. “Instagram posts are clearly not enough.”

“Yes, Father.” Adrien said demurely; he had been expecting something like that. “Do you think it’ll work?”

The man gave a resigned sigh, pocketing his phone. “Likely not. The damage has been done. Don’t you ever let anyone catch you with her in your room again.” His tone brooked no argument.

“Of course, Father.” Adrien ducked his head, twisting his hands around his napkin, slowly shredding it to pieces. “What do you want me to say in the interview? That I was swept away by her beauty?”

“Absolutely not.” Gabriel’s lip curled in apparent disgust. “That would only add rampant fuel to the fires of speculation. If you must use the words ‘swept away,’ you are to explain that you were encouraged by teenage hormones. That the attraction was impulsive and not long-lasting.”

Gabriel raised a brow in question, though it was clear there was only one correct answer. “The kiss was impulsive, right, Adrien?”

Adrien hung his head, trying to project the shame Gabriel thought he should clearly be feeling. “Yes, Father.”

Lies.

Gabriel regarded his son with a divisive sneer. “Good. See that you never do anything so foolish again.” Gabriel clasped his hands behind his back. “You are part of a brand, son.” Because that was all he was worth to his father. “Act like it.”

“I will.”

Lies? Adrien thought, wondering what was true and what was fake anymore. He certainly wouldn’t refuse Ladybug if she came to visit his room again.

Adrien picked up his fork again, turning back to his lunch. “Is that all, Father?”

“I believe so. Unless there’s something you want to tell me?” Gabriel raised a brow in question, his tone condescending. “You don’t have any other relationships with any other young women, I assume?”

Adrien blanched. “Just friends. I wouldn’t date any of them.”

No lying to family. His words from the night before rang in his head. Adrien winced.

“Good.” Gabriel swept from the room without another word.

Adrien swiftly finished his salad and ran to his bedroom, struggling to pull his phone out of his pocket on the way. He paused long enough to take a selfie on the stairs and burst through the door to his room just as he was captioning it for Instagram. “Still not dating--

“Ladybug?” Adrien blinked owlishly in surprise at her hanging outside his window. He rushed to open it and helped her over the lip and into his room. “What are you doing here?”

“We can’t talk long, Adrien, but I came to check on you.” Ladybug hooked her yo-yo back around her waist. “How are you holding up?”

Adrien stole a glance behind her, but didn’t see anyone. “What about the paparazzi? Aren’t they camped outside?”

Ladybug shook her head in denial, reliving some of Adrien’s sudden tension. “They’re all at lunch. I was worried, so I decided to take the risk.”

Adrien blinked in renewed surprise again. “Oh.” Her words made him feel warm from the inside out. “To answer your question, I’m all right. My father wants me to do an official interview.”

“That’s probably a good idea, yeah.” Ladybug nodded in agreement. She tucked some flyaway hair behind her ear. Adrien’s eyes followed the action, struggling not to mention how cute she looked slightly ruffled. “With Nadja?” She sighed.

“Yes, of course.” Adrien itched to reach out and touch her, but knew that was a terrible idea and would only worsen the situation they’d found themself in. Just like kissing her would be, though he wanted to so, so much. “Have you done your interview with Alya?”

“Not yet.” Ladybug grimaced. “I’ve set it up, though. I have the questionable honor of doing that this Saturday.”

“Funny you should say that.” Adrien’s lips quirked up in the ghost of a smile. “That’s when my interview is, too.”

Ladybug chuckled, though it sounded more forced than anything, as if she was desperate to find humor in their situation. “Want to go out for ice cream afterwards to commiserate?”

“As friends?”

Ladybug gazed at the floor, refusing to meet his gaze. “Of course. Yes. As friends.” She finally raised her eyes to meet his own and nodded firmly, appearing to convince herself. “After all, we can’t tell people we’re not dating and then secretly do it. That would be lying.”

And Ladybug hates liars. Adrien schooled his features to remain neutral rather than flinching. “We wouldn’t want that.”

Ladybug turned her head to the rooftop across the way, her gaze on the horizon. “Where is that mangy cat?”

Mangy? Adrien grimaced at her comment. “You mean Chat?”

“Yes,” Ladybug replied distractedly, placing her hand over her eyes to shade from the sun, presumably to get a better view of the roof. “I told him to keep an eye on you just in case you had some crazed fan breaking down your door to get at you.”

“Maybe he’s at lunch?” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck, trying to assuage her fears. “My father has the best security around. And I have a bodyguard. I highly doubt someone would attack the mansion. Or me.”

Ladybug turned back to him, her fists clenched tightly at her sides. “They’d better not. Or they’ll have me to answer to.”

“The Savior of Paris, my personal hero?” Adrien grinned and mocked a bow. “I’m flattered, but I can take care of myself.”

Ladybug didn’t look convinced. “Well. That being said, I should probably let you get back to it.” She unhooked her yo-yo from around her waist and shot it out the window to catch on a distant rooftop. “Enjoy your lunch, Adrien.”

“Thanks, Ladybug.” Adrien’s heart pounded in his throat. They were so close to each other, he could breathe in her scents of soil and cloves. He flared his nostrils, trying to inhale the last bits of scent before she left him. “You, too.”

***

Before patrol the night after his father had confronted him, Chat tapped on Alya’s window. When she whipped her head up from her computer screen, her expression surprised, he raised his clawed hand in a wave. She rushed to let him in, and he did a showy flip off her windowsill and landed in a crouch on her floor. “Hiya, Alya! How’s my favorite reporter?”

Alya squealed in delight. “Better now that one of the heroes of Paris is here! What can I do for you, Chat? Do you want to make an official interview about your feelings regarding Adrien and Ladybug’s relationship?” She was already in reporter mode, scenting blood in the water.

“Actually,” Chat said, tapping the side of his nose in the universal sign of ‘I have a secret to share.’ “I came here to say something off the record. Can you keep a secret, Alya?”

Alya’s eyes grew as big as saucers. She leaned over, her fists tucked under her chin. “I am all ears, Chat Noir.”

“Well,” Chat said, lacing his fingers above his head and stretching his back, trying to appear nonchalant. “I took your advice.”

Alya gasped, seemingly ecstatic. “About asking Marinette out?”

“Yep!” Chat grinned, placing a hand on Alya’s shoulder and offering her a gentle squeeze. “You were spot on. Marinette is great. I just adore her.”

Alya let loose a high-pitched squeal that hurt Chat’s sensitive feline ears, which flattened against his head. He backed off, tempted to cover his human ears as well. He managed only a watery smile in response.

“That’s so great!” Alya bounced on the balls of her feet, pumping her fist in the air. “My Marichat ship is sailing!”

Chat chuckled, shaking his head in exasperation. “You ship everything. Marichat’s a fun name, though.”

“Have you told Ladybug yet?”

“Not yet, but I will be during patrol, as soon as I’m done here.” Chat offered Alya finger guns. “Speaking of, I should probably jet. Take care, Alya! And remember: off the record!”

Alya returned his finger guns with a double thumbs up. “You got it, Chat!”

Chat climbed out the window and allowed himself to fall backwards off her second story apartment, flipping just before he hit the ground. He caught himself on his baton and started pole-vaulting off to Friday’s patrol spot.

That was relatively easy, Chat thought, beaming to himself. Now to tell Ladybug…

Chapter Text

That was relatively easy, Chat mused, beaming to himself as he traveled to his and Ladybug’s patrol spot away from Alya’s apartment. Now to tell Ladybug… Which may be significantly harder. Chat wanted to wince just thinking about it.

Chat futilely blew his bangs out of his eyes; the wind was doing a great job of keeping his hair plastered against his forehead. He bounced across the city, ruminating on how, exactly, he was going to tell Ladybug about his and Marinette’s fake relationship.

Do I have to lie to her? Chat chewed his lower lip anxiously. Ladybug hates liars. What if she finds out the truth?

Chat’s baton struck the street below, sending up a shower of small broken concrete, propelling him flying over the rooftops. He landed on one heavily and rolled to take the stress off his knees, springing up to his feet again. He pumped his arms and legs, sprinting down the empty sidewalk and hoping the run would clear his head.

If I did tell Ladybug… Wouldn’t that be betraying Marinette?

Chat didn’t have time to think about that any longer; he’d arrived at his and Ladybug’s meeting place and she was already there, leaning casually on the railing, watching the city below. He’d chosen the rooftop where he’d scattered rose petals and laid out candles in a bid to win her heart two years ago, after Glaciator. He wondered if she remembered; it was seared in his brain forever.

Chat had always been a romantic at heart, and he’d hoped that meeting at this spot would remind Ladybug of his feelings for her. If I’m going to fake date Marinette, Ladybug and I need a new spot.

Chat placed his baton on his back and waved a greeting. “Yo, Bug.”

“Yo?” Ladybug turned to him with a skeptical smile. “That’s a new greeting.”

“I like to change things up sometimes.” Chat shrugged noncommittally, trying to hide the panic ratcheting up in his brain. “Ready to patrol?”

Chat wasn’t putting off telling her.

He wasn’t.

Ladybug nodded and unhooked her yo-yo from her waist, spinning it in a lazy circle. “Sounds good. Talk later?”

“Sure.” Chat swallowed hard and gave her a nod. “We… have a lot to talk about.”

Ladybug’s gaze flicked to the ground. “We do.”

She threw her yo-yo out and swung off the roof, starting their invigorating run around Paris. Chat kept up with her easily as they covered the 1st, 2nd, and 9th arrondissements, patrolling the middle of the city that Friday evening as was their prior arrangement.

They only met once a week, and Chat usually relished their time together. But this evening, his gut was clenched in dread. He wondered if she’d bring up her kiss with Adrien again and maybe try to explain herself. Chat realized with a start, nearly stepping off a roof ledge rather than leaping to the next that he’d have to step carefully; this conversation promised to be a landmine.

It was a busy patrol. Chat and Ladybug stopped a robbery in progress, posed for group photos with tourists at the Eiffel Tower, and admired the city’s bustling nightlife.

By the time they returned to the evening’s meeting spot, Chat’s stomach was twisted back up in knots. He landed on the roof on unsteady feet and with weak knees, feeling like he was going to keel over at any moment. He placed his baton at his back and turned to find Ladybug was already there, leaning on the railing again.

“Chat,” she said, not looking at him. “I wanted to apologize.”

“For what, Bug?” Chat leapt up onto the railing and sat, grasping his knee in a tight-knuckled grip and letting his other leg dangle. “For kissing Adrien? We’ve been through this. I can’t control who you kiss.”

“I wasn’t thinking.” Ladybug hung her head in apparent shame, staring down at her hands, which were laced tightly together. Chat’s heart sank like a rock to his feet. “I just…”

“But you wanted to kiss him, right?” Chat interrupted, and Ladybug glanced up at him, her face a mix of worry and surprise. “I’m not upset, Bug. You can tell me.”

Ladybug worked her lower lip with her teeth, and Chat had to wrestle himself back under control to prevent himself from stopping her with his hands, or worse his lips. Chat didn’t have the same privileges that Adrien did. “Yes,” she said eventually. “Yes, I wanted to kiss him.”

Whew, Chat thought, drawing a deep breath through his nose and feeling the knots in his stomach slowly beginning to unwind.

Ladybug fixed him with a considering look. “Why aren’t you upset, Chat?”

Chat steepled his fingers in front of his lips, pressing his lips together and thinking quickly about what he could tell her. It was now or never. He could either lie and betray Ladybug, or he could tell the truth and betray Marinette. “I’m dating someone.”

Ladybug whipped her head up, her bluebell eyes wide and searching. “You are?”

Chat’s tail lashed the air, a clear sign that he was uncertain about the lies he was telling. He hoped that wasn’t a dead giveaway, that for once she hadn’t paid that much attention to some of his mannerisms. “Just asked her out yesterday.”

Ladybug’s jaw dropped open in surprise. She shut it with a sharp clack, looking away. Was it just him, or were her eyes sad? “Oh, uh… Congratulations. I hope you have a long and happy relationship.”

Chat wrung his clawed hands together, desperate to soothe her hurt. “Well, Bug, you’re free to go pursue Adrien or anyone else you’d like to date, okay? Don’t let me hold you back.”

Ladybug shook her head slowly. “I’m not going to date Adrien.”

Chat’s head whipped up, that was not what he had been expecting. “Really? Why not?”

That’s probably a good thing, Chat thought ruefully, thinking about his father and the situation in general. I can’t fake date Marinette and really date Ladybug. That would be cheating, right?

Wouldn’t it?

Ladybug glanced at the street below, her eyes distant. “I have my reasons.” She dragged her gaze back up to meet Chat’s. “But mainly, I can’t date anyone. Our fans are crazy. And Hawkmoth would probably find out and try to hurt whomever I dated.”

Narrowing her eyes at Chat, she pursed her lips in thought. “Did you think of that when you asked this young woman out?”

Chat rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Err… She brought it up, yeah. No one is going to know about our relationship besides you and the person who set us up.”

Ladybug appeared to consider that for a moment, tapping her chin. “And she’s okay with that?”

“It was her idea.”

“Ah.” Ladybug laced her fingers together under her chin, pressing her elbows against her chest as if she wanted to hug herself but couldn’t quite bring herself to. “I’m glad you told me.”

“I can’t keep secrets from you, Bug,” Chat admitted, sighing. Ladybug would be fine. And he could fake date Marinette as long as he wished, at least until Alya was satisfied and backed off both of them.

“Except for your identity, I hope.”

Chat rubbed a phantom ache in his breastbone. His heart hurt. “Yeah. Except for that.”

Ladybug offered a fist. “Good talk?”

“Yeah, Bug.” Chat bumped her fist with his, doing his best to force out a smile for Ladybug’s benefit. He was excited though, because now he could go visit Marinette. Chat wondered what she’d been up to; even though he’d been talking to Ladybug, his thoughts were already centered on his other good friend. “Good talk.”

Chapter Text

“Marinette!” she heard Chat call, seeing him tap on her skylight with one clawed finger from her bed. She’d arrived in her room not two minutes prior and called off her transformation, having bolted home in a panic after patrol to get there.

Marinette had known Chat was going to visit her afterwards, as he’d promised, but she’d expected at least a few minutes more of time to get settled. As it was, her breath had caught in her throat, and as she opened the skylight to allow him in, she was still panting too much to get a single word out.

Chat slipped through the skylight and onto her bed, his eyes lined with concern. “Are you all right?”

“Fine!” Marinette reassured him, offering him a thumbs up. “Just… doing… calisthenics?”

“Don’t let me interrupt your workout!” Chat held up his hands in apology and glanced up at the open skylight as if planning to flee. Marinette laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, keeping him in place.

“No, no, Chat, it’s all good,” Marinette said, drawing a deep breath through her nose to calm her racing heart. She’d made it to her room in record time and Tikki was hidden away somewhere, so there was nothing to panic about. Marinette offered him a wry grin. “Did you bring me another gift?”

“About that…” Chat rubbed at the back of his head in a gesture that was intimately familiar to Marinette, but it was one she couldn’t place. “I didn’t have time to pick flowers tonight, but I wanted to one-up myself and take you to the field instead. Is that okay?”

Marinette’s gaze softened while a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Sure, Chat.” She stood on her bed and crossed to the stairs before turning back to him. “Just let me get bundled up. It’s the middle of May, but the nights are chilly.”

“Agreed.” Chat beamed, clearly pleased with himself, following close behind her as she descended the stairs.

He leaned into her space; she could feel the warmth of his body seeping into her own. Then she heard a strange sound: sniffing. The dawning realization that Chat had just smelled her struck her in two ways: fear and revulsion. Just to make sure her presupposition was correct, she asked, “Do you have a cold or did you just smell me?”

Chat’s cheeks reddened under his mask, looking strangely adorable to Marinette. “Er, sorry. Would you believe me if I said the sniffing was an animal instinct?”

Marinette narrowed her eyes at him. So he was smelling her. “Not a chance.”

As he had last time, Chat started to laugh uproariously, but Marinette wasn’t having it. Seizing his feline ear, she tugged him down to her level. Chat let loose a whine from the back of his throat. “Ow, ow, ow.”

“I hope you found whatever smell it was you were looking for?”

“Er…” Chat's face was so red, he looked like he was close to spontaneously combusting. He gave her the kitten eyes, but Marinette was inured due to her annoyance. “I, uh… You just smell so good, like soil and sugar cookies, and…”

Marinette scoffed and let go of him, deciding that he was rather useless after all, and therefore harmless. He rubbed his ear gingerly, wincing. “I can’t believe I have to tell you this,” she snapped, glaring at him to drive home her point, “but don’t smell me again without my permission.”

Chat stared at her, his eyes lacking even a shred of intelligence. “You’d give me permission to smell you?”

What? Now it was Marinette’s turn to flounder. She waved her arms in circles in front of herself, trying to regain her footing. “Um. I can’t imagine doing so? So just keep your sniffer to yourself!”

Chat offered her a salute. “I promise. No breathing in your delicious--”

“Chat.”

“--aroma without your permission.”

Marinette rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Now that that’s settled, you weirdo, where is this field?”

“It’s just outside of town.” Chat sat on the bottom of the stairs as she crossed to her closet. “Near a section of the Oise River.”

“The Oise, huh?” Marinette wondered how often Chat stayed transformed after patrol and went on jaunts in his super suit. Probably a lot. She didn’t know what to do about that; Ladybug certainly didn’t know how many hours he’d spent transformed, and saying ‘Marinette told me!’ would look weird. “Then I’d definitely better bundle up.”

Finding clothes to bundle up with wasn’t hard; being an upcoming fashion designer, she had a basic, fashion-forward capsule wardrobe and a few pieces that she liked accessorizing with. She donned her thick, red coat with the black toggles, her good, fur-lined boots, and finally, an black-and-acid-green scarf that she’d knitted in honor of Chat but had never told him.

Chat noticed the scarf immediately. “Oh! Those are my colors.” He stepped into her space, his heat wafting over to her again, and reached out for the scarf, pressing the end between his index finger and his thumb. “Did you knit this?”

“I did,” Marinette said, allowing him to inspect her handiwork with reluctance. She didn’t want to give away that she’d been thinking of him when knitting it, but from the smarmy grin he gave her, she figured he already knew.

“I love your work.” Chat grinned down at her, looking very much like a cat in cream. Marinette rolled her eyes. “Looks like a scarf my father gave me. You didn’t drop a single stitch on this one. Was… uh… casting-on difficult?”

Marinette gave him a skeptical look. “Do you know anything about knitting or are you just talking out of your butt?”

“Not a darn thing.” Chat’s eyes narrowed in pleasure, looking rather cute--not that Marinette would ever admit that. “I recognize that most of my knowledge comes from good, old Google.”

Marinette scoffed again. She did a lot of that around Chat, she noticed. “You must have made a cursory search, then. Why’d you look up knitting terms?”

Chat shrugged, releasing the scarf and stepping back. “Ever been down a Wikipedia hole?”

“Loads of times.”

“I was looking up a video game from 2008, which led me to fabrics of world war I, which led me to fabric, a disambiguation, which then led me to textiles, which then led me to knitting.” Chat nodded somberly, as if the internet hole he’d fallen into was the most natural way to spend an evening. “And I learned a whole lot about knitting but not enough to, you know, actually do it.”

Marinette blinked up at him. Huh. Chat did research on the regular? He was more of an intellectual than she thought. “You’re always surprising me, Chat. I never can pinpoint what will interest you.”

“You interest me,” Chat said immediately, and then had the good grace to look abashed. “I mean, you’re a good friend of mine, and I like my friends, so…”

Marinette shook her head, desperate to change the subject due to the uncomfortable heat flaring in her cheeks. “What about that field?”

“Thanks for the save.” Chat climbed her stairs up to her skylight, and Marinette followed. He popped it open and slipped through, lowering his hand to help her out. She took his hand, allowing him to lift her easily with his super strength.

He was so strong, Marinette was overwhelmed by it for a moment. Chat extended his baton and spun her into his side, making her giggle. He tucked an arm around her waist and the second under her knees, and they were off, bounding across Paris using his stick.

The travel was definitely different than swinging along with her yo-yo, but as the wind blew her hair away from her face, Marinette relaxed in Chat’s grip. He held her gently but firmly, using his baton in one hand and pumping his powerful legs across the rooftops.

With her face so close to him, she couldn’t help but catch his spicy, masculine scent. She breathed in, inhaling the smells of leather, charcoal, and something uniquely Chat that she recognized as his sweat. His aroma appealed to Marinette on a level she didn’t consciously recognize.

Oh, no, what?! Marinette thought, painful heat flooding her face. She nearly gasped aloud in her shame, but she didn’t want to alert Chat about her mistake. I can’t smell him after I told him not to smell me!

Marinette buried her too-warm face in his chest so he wouldn’t catch the undeniable redness on her cheeks in his night vision. She felt the vibrations of his chuckle under her mouth and scowled, embarrassed. Laugh it up, fuzzball!

Rather than staring at his trim, leather-clad chest, she closed her eyes, fully intending to doze. Yes. Dozing would be a much better idea than ogling her partner. Unfortunately for her sleep schedule, traveling across the city didn’t take too long with a superhero. Chat soon set her down in a field with waist-high grass that rusted underfoot.

The smells of water and flowers filled her nose, chasing away Chat’s delicious scent. Marinette wasn’t sure if she liked the replacement or not, but decided not to think about it. She crouched down and ran her fingers over a patch of red poppies. “They’re beautiful.”

“They are,” Chat said, his soft gaze on her. Marinette didn’t know what to think about that; was he appraising her or what? “This is the best place to get gifts. They’re free and the best nature can offer.”

The field was gorgeous, Marinette had to admit. She didn’t know whether to thank Chat for bringing her here, as it seemed more like a date than anything, but wasn’t she supposed to be his fake girlfriend? Marinette stood, brushing pollen off her fingers. “This field is nice. Thanks, Chat.”

“That’s not all it has to offer.”

Chat gently grasped her chin and tilted her gaze up. Seeing what he wanted her to see, Marinette gasped in awe. With the city in the distance and the light pollution significantly dimmed, the stars shone in full force. Millions of them blanketed the sky above the two teens, reminding Marinette that in the grand scheme of things, she was just an insignificant bug. The clear night sky was dark blue verging on black, and Marinette couldn’t tear her eyes away.

“Beautiful.” Marinette couldn’t see a moon out, confusing her for the briefest of moments. “Is the moon new? Is that why you wanted to take me to this field tonight?”

“Yes,” Chat said, bumping his shoulder with hers, his white teeth flashing in the night. How had she never noticed how pretty his smile was? Wait, why had her breath caught in her throat? “Perfect time to stargaze.”

Just when she began to think Chat couldn’t surprise her anymore, he flopped back on the grass, throwing his arms above his head. He offered her a smile she could barely see in the darkness, but she knew it was soft, like him.

Marinette carefully lowered herself down, checking for and finding a rock where she intended to lay. She tossed the rock aside along with her reservations and snuggled up to her partner. It wouldn’t hurt her to cuddle with him, she decided. He was her friend, after all. The grass cushioned her body and made for a comfortable lying place, and Marinette wondered if it had ever been cut.

“Look,” Chat said, wrapping one arm around her and using the other hand to point up towards the left half of the sky. Marinette leaned into him, sucking up his delicious heat for herself. The muscles of his chest made a comfortable pillow, but Marinette tried not to think too hard about what she was doing--and when she’d have to stop. “Mars.”

The planet appeared as a bright orange-red dot to Marinette, a tiny, sparkling spot of rust. Beautiful. “I see it.” Realizing she was probably constricting his breaths, she moved her head on Chat’s shoulder. “What other ones can we see?”

Chat’s clawed index finger trailed across Orion’s belt and towards the rest of the sky. Marinette absolutely did not think about that claw trailing across her jaw. Nope. “Jupiter.”

Marinette searched and saw a bright star that might have a yellow hue. Stargazing was tough, but with such an encouraging teacher, she found finding the appropriate stars wasn’t as hard as she thought it would be. “Is that it?”

Chat nodded, and pointed out the next planet, one that simply looked like a bright star. “Saturn. Next to Scorpius.”

“What about Venus?”

Chat shook his head slightly, his jaw brushing the top of her head, sending a secret thrill through her.. “You can only see Venus at sunrise and sunset, and it doesn’t rise much above the horizon.” He pointed to where the sky touched the ground in the distance. “Venus spends half its time as a morning star and half as an evening star.”

Marinette hummed noncommittally, not knowing what to say, so Chat continued. “This confused the heck out of the ancient Greek astronomers. They thought they were looking at two different stars, so they named them Phosphorus and Hesperus, the harbinger of light and the son of Atlas, respectively.”

Marinette was fascinated by the pitch and timbre of his voice; the way Chat spoke the astronomy lesson into being was entrancing. Chat was entrancing. “How long did it take them to recognize it was a planet?”

Chat’s breathing was deep and even; if she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was falling asleep. While she didn’t regret the thought of sleeping beside him, she wanted him awake so he could tell her the stories he’d promised to tell. “Not too long. Pythagoras theorized Venus was one object, but it wasn’t until Galileo began looking at the heavenly bodies through his telescope that people realized Venus was a planet.”

Chat beamed up at the sky. Then he winked at her, making her heart flutter in her chest. “That was a deathblow to the heliocentric model, where people thought the Sun revolved around the Earth.”

“Huh.” Marinette said, blinking in an effort to clear her head. Why was she having this kind of reaction to him? “I didn’t know any of that. How do you know about all this?”

Chat shrugged under her, moving her head. Having moved her head back to his chest. his heartbeat was slow and steady under her cheek and his body heat was like an open oven, cozy and inviting. Marinette had never felt so warm.

But his next words made her blood run cold.

“I spend a lot of time alone in my room.” Chat didn’t sound too bothered by this, which was the only reason Marinette didn’t bite a hole in her lip. “Between being shuttled from job to job, I’m mostly left to my own devices. I’m not allowed to have friends over, so… I google things.”

That’s terrible! Marinette had no idea that her partner came from such a lonely home. Puzzle pieces--the puzzle that was Chat--clicked into place; his being touch-starved checked out, as did him wanting the constant attention of whomever he was with.

Ladybug had failed him. She’d failed him. She’d ignored the signs he’d so clearly worn on his sleeve, and had shut down any chance he would have had to talk about his life. Marinette shivered in his hold, placing a desperate hand on his chest. She wanted to touch him, wanted to apologize in some way that he would understand. “Is that why you jumped at the chance to fake date me?”

“Partially,” Chat said, shrugging once more. He sighed and adjusted his hold on her, his hand sliding from her shoulder to her waist. Marinette welcomed the change; maybe he wasn’t in a bad mood if he was holding her? “I was lonely, and then the temptation of seeing a friend on a regular basis dangled in front of me like a carrot in front of an ass. Would you do the same in my position?”

Marinette didn’t have to consider his question for very long. “I absolutely would.”

Chat shifted, offering her shoulders a squeeze. “Thanks for fake dating me, Marientte.”

“Of course, Chat.” On impulse, she craned her head up and pressed a kiss to the underside of his chin. His stubble made her smile, though the happy feeling was tempered by sadness of her failure. “Thanks for taking me to the field.”

“Our first fake date.” Chat chuckled, and once again she felt the vibrations under her cheek, indicating to her that he’d definitely laughed before. “May 18, 2018. I’ll treasure this day forever.”

Marinette pursed her lips. That was the old Chat she knew and loved. Loved? “You’re such a sap.”

“Oh, you want me to make like a tree and leaf?”

His stupid puns. Marinette had no desire for him to leave. She wanted to wrap herself around him and never let him go. Instead, she lightly smacked his shoulder. “No. You stay right here.”

“Can do, Marinette.” Chat chuckled again, spreading warmth through her chest. Her kitty was going to be okay. “Can do.”

Chapter Text

“Girl,” Alya squealed on Marinette’s phone’s screen, practically vibrating in excitement. “I absolutely cannot believe you took my advice about dating Chat Noir!”

“Is it really so hard to believe?” Marinette questioned, propping her phone up next to her sewing machine so she could continue to work on Alya’s bag while they talked. “I mean, he’s… a great catch.”

Chat being a great catch? Marinette smiled secretly to herself. No way! He’s obnoxious!

Alya made a high-pitched noise on delight, and bounced around her room, clearly unable to contain her glee. She seemed incapable of saying any more at the moment, so Marinette stepped in. “I’m sort of surprised you didn’t call me last night.”

“I tried!” Alya said, huffing in annoyance, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face. “But someone didn’t pick up her phone. What were you up to?”

Heat flooded Marinette’s cheeks instantly as the memories of last night skipped through her mind. “I was, um…” She depressed the pedal on her sewing machine slightly harder than she’d intended, trying to figure out a way out of lying to Alya. Marinette couldn’t see any. “I was on a date.”

Alya screamed, causing Marinette to wince in mild pain at the high octave. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, you could have led with that! Talk about burying the lede!”

“Sorry.” Marinette ducked her head in embarrassment, hoping the red coloring on her cheeks would convince Alya that she was head over heels for Chat rather than embarrassed about the need to lie.

Alya appeared to swallow the lie hook, line, and sinker thankfully. “What was the date? Where did he take you? Give me details, M, I’m starved for them!”

“He, uh,” Marinette started, chewing on her lip as she tried to determine just how much she wanted to divulge. Unable to focus, she abandoned her sewing project and picked up her phone. “He took me stargazing in a field outside Paris.”

“Aww!” Alya covered her mouth with a hand to stifle the cooing noises she had started making, before she uncovered it again to speak. “That’s so romantic!”

Romantic? Marinette nearly let out an unseemly snort in response. Chat? Yeah, right!

“You can’t tell anyone, Alya,” Marinette pleaded, doing her best to inject a note of desperation into her voice.

Alya made a zipping motion over her closed lips, tossing the imaginary key over her shoulder. “Sealed, M. You don’t have to worry about anything from me.” She beamed, delighted despite being sworn to secrecy. “Maybe we can all go on a double date!”

Marinette’s leg jiggled nervously, tapping painfully against the top of her sewing desk, but every jolt the movement sent down her leg helped keep her from freaking out over the situation. She was in deep, and unsure if she'd ever be able to crawl her way out of the hole she kept digging deeper. “Uh, yeah, maybe!”

“I wonder if Nino and Chat have anything in common?” Alya tapped her chin, staring off as she contemplated the thought. “Aside from being the hottest boys this side of Paris dating the hottest girls in the world!”

“Dang, Alya.” That brought a startled laugh out of Marinette. “Modest much?”

Alya grinned impishly. “When it comes to praising my bestie, I go all out.”

“I do note you said the hottest girls in the world,” Marinette pointed out with a smirk of her own.

Alya tossed her hair over her shoulder, striking a pose reminiscent of a model. “Yeah, well, can’t deny this woman is foxy.”

A laugh bubbled out of Marinette again, knowing very well the secret pun in Alya’s words, but pretending she didn’t for the sake of her friend. “Foxy? Really?”

“I don’t hear you supporting me!” Alya cupped her ear and held it up to the phone, clearly waiting. “In fact, I hear you being rather skeptical of my hotness.”

Marinette’s smirk morphed into a genuine smile. “You’re plenty hot, Alya.”

Alya gave her a finger gun, winking at Marinette. “You know it, Marinette.” She chuckled, before suddenly sobering up, her face taking on a more serious look. “Okay, girl, you just have to tell me: why’d you do it?”

“Hmm?”

“Why’d you agree to date Chat?”

Marinette knew the real answer--to get you to back off--would hurt Alya more than anything else. Marinette hated lying to her friends, especially when she had to do it so often as it was, but this was definitely for a good cause.

“Well,” she said, running a hand through her hair, pulling out the few knots that had developed throughout the day, “Chat’s…” Obnoxious. “... dependable. He’s handsome, smart, brave…”

“Go on.”

Marinette considered her friend’s request carefully, wondering just how deep she was getting, wondering just how much she could and should divulge. “Chat’s loyal to a fault, optimistic, friendly, empathetic, supportive…” As she continued listing whatever she could think of, Marinette realized she didn’t have to reach very far to dredge up Chat’s good qualities. “Innocent. Kind. Trustworthy.”

Alya whistled, clearly impressed. “Wow, M. I’m not surprised he caught your eye.”

Marinette furrowed her brow, ready to deny any such accusation. “He’s not that great. He’s the textbook example of overcompensation. He’s hasty, flippant, naive, wild, cocky--”

Alya threw her head back and let out a barking laugh.

Marinette frowned at her, annoyed at Alya's reaction. “What’s so funny?”

“You.” Alya pretended to wipe a tear from her eye, struggling to stop the tremors of laughter still shaking her body. “You’ve only just started dating him and you know him so well.”

Marinette forced herself to shrug when all she wanted to do was put her back against a wall and raise her hackles in defense. “Anyone could see any of that from your footage.” Then she landed the killing blow, hoping it would be enough to stop the line of questioning in its tracks. “You’re a great journalist, Alya. Without your dedication to the Ladyblog, no one would know anything about Chat.”

Alya smiled so genuinely in gratitude, Marinette’s heart twisted in her chest, she hated lying to her best friend and using her own insecurities to manipulate her, even if it wasn't quite a lie. “Thanks, M. That means a lot.”

“I know.” And Marinette did know. She meant what she’d said--Alya was a great journalist. But that wasn’t how Marinette knew Chat as well as she did.

Alya could never know how, Marinette suddenly decided to herself.

Then Alya asked Marinette a question that pierced her through the heart, leaving her feeling like she was struggling just to draw breath. “What about Adrien?”

Marinette inhaled shakily, sucking air over her teeth and trying to force it down her constricted throat. “I’m still…” She knew she had to phrase this carefully, so Alya wouldn’t look at her with pity. “... deeply, deeply in love with him.”

“Marinette…” There was that pity look, anyway. Marinette couldn’t stand it, especially when she didn't deserve it. “I’m sorry.”

Marinette shrugged noncommittally. “He’s… He’s in love with Ladybug. I don’t have a chance.”

And she very well couldn’t date him as Ladybug when fake dating Chat. Marinette realized that she did not think this relationship through, not at all.

Dating Adrien as Ladybug would be a terrible idea. Almost as bad as Marinette dating Chat, and for the same reasons: Adrien would be in danger should Hawkmoth ever find out. Their lives wouldn’t mesh. Ladybug would very rarely be able to spend any time with him. But oh, how she wanted to take the risk.

Chat tended to spend more time transformed than she did--which reminded her, she should probably tell him to cut that out and give Plagg a rest. But she did want to see him, more often with each passing day it seemed, and she could only do that if he were transformed.

Alya shook her head on the screen in seeming disbelief. “I can’t believe Ladybug and Adrien are dating.” She offered Marinette a sly look. “Can you imagine? Dating a Hero of Paris?”

“Haha, Alya.” Marinette grinned back at her friend. “I see what you did there.”

Alya threw her a salute that reminded Marinette a little too much of Chat. She wondered whether Alya had picked it up from filming him so often. “Happy to help, girl. I’m so excited you’re finally moving past him and onto new fields.”

“Chat isn’t a field.” Marinette frowned again. Was she getting over Adrien? Her lips still tingled with the phantom feeling of his lips settling over her own, stealing her breath. “And… I don’t know if I’m getting over Adrien.”

“That’s fair,” Alya said, nodding. “He’d be hard to get over. Especially for you.”

Marinette groaned, running a hand tiredly over her face. “Tell me about it.”

“Okay.” Alya flashing another impish grin and riding to the unintentional bait. “I’ll tell you. You’ve done some crazy things in the name of your crush. You’ve memorized his schedule, stole his phone, practically stalked him--”

“Alya…” Marinette whined; she wanted to kick herself for the childish lilt to her voice. “You didn’t have to remind me of all that.”

“Oh, but I do,” Alya chuckled. “You’re awesome, Marinette, but when it comes to Adrien, you need to get your head on straight. You’re dating Chat Noir now, and you can’t go pining after some other boy.”

Marinette hung her head in shame. “Tell me about it.”

Alya could only continue laughing at Marinette.

Chapter Text

“So you see, Nadja,” Adrien said, lounging comfortably on the orange couch on the night’s interview’s set, “the savior of Paris is far too busy to date me, saving the city and all.”

Internally, Adrien screamed, the sound rattling around his skull. He had no idea if Ladybug was too busy to date him or not, but that was the story they’d both agreed to use with the public, in-between stolen kisses, when she’d visited him that morning. He figured that with school, her Guardian duties, and whatever else life threw at her, she really would be too busy to spend much time on him, but Adrien didn’t mind.

Ladybug and Adrien both knew that their fans were far too intense to approve of a relationship between the two of them, which they had already made readily apparent when Alya caught them. But the real reason he couldn’t date her--on his side, at least--was not to betray Marinette and their dating, fake though it may be.

Marinette was amazing. She was clever, funny, compassionate, kind, loyal; he could go on for hours. He definitely looked forward to spending time with her. He called her his everyday Ladybug for a reason.

But he did wonder why she wasn’t able to trade banter so easily with his civilian form. Adrien was grateful that she was comfortable enough with him while he was wearing his suit, but he would like to visit her as Adrien, too, just to see if she’d still play with him.

And… She liked Adrien, didn’t she? He still couldn’t wrap his mind around that.

Not that he would tell any of that to Nadja Chamack.

“I see, I see,” said Nadja, her tone clearly indicating that she did not in fact see what the issue was. “Can you explain the heated kiss? Let’s see a clip again!”

The screen flickered to life, and there, blown up in high quality frames, Nadja played his and Ladybug’s passionate make out. Adrien had watched the video before, as soon as Alya had posted it, but seeing the two of them paw at each other never failed to make him blush. It didn’t help that whoever was in charge of actually playing the clip was having a field day, rewinding to replay particularly steamy parts, zooming in even further than Alya had.

“Oh, uh…” Adrien tugged at his collar nervously, a Gabriel special. He swallowed hard, the feeling forming a lump in his throat he struggled to breathe around, and ducked his head. “Teenage hormones?” He tried for a, lame, plausible excuse.

“Am I to believe,” Nadja said, tapping her tablet with a finger rhythmically, “that the Savior of Paris and Adrien Agreste, a trained model, were swept away by teenage hormones?”

There, Father, Adrien thought viciously, his mood somewhere between triumphant and bitter. I didn’t even have to use the words ‘swept away.’ Nadja did it for me. Aren’t you proud?

He offered her his most placating smile. Adrien could swear he heard the audience swoon. Nadja certainly seemed affected.

“Listen,” he whispered, like he was letting her in on a secret. Placing his hands together between his knees, he leaned forward on the couch. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Nadja learned into his space, her bloodsucking tendencies morphing her face into an ugly display. She was beyond eager, nearly squirming in her seat, her eyes zeroed in on him with the intensity of a bull to a red flag. “Yes, Adrien?” she whispered, voice equally as quiet.

Adrien cupped his hand around his mouth away from the audience, allowing them to still read his lips. His words came out in a practiced stage-whisper.

“I love Ladybug.” Father was going to kill him.

Nadja gasped, reeling backwards, as if what he said came as a great shock, despite nearly half of Paris holding some sort of torch for their savior. Adrien leaned back himself and injected his words with the confidence he didn’t feel. “But we’ve mutually decided to be friends. We wouldn’t be good for each other, you know? She has her life and I have mine, and the two wouldn’t blend well.”

“This is quite a revelation.” Nadja collapsed back against her chair, fanning herself with a hand. “Are you on the hunt for another girl?”

“Maybe--” Adrien winked out to the audience. “--one of my fans.”

The audience went absolutely wild. Screams and cheering erupted from the stands; people stood and stomped their feet.

Adrien was suddenly exhausted, the feeling settling deep in his bones. He wanted nothing more than for this interview to be over.

Ladybug… I’m sorry.

***

Ladybug was suddenly exhausted, every movement taking more and more effort. She wanted nothing more than for this interview to be over.

Adrien… I’m sorry.

She’d stuck to the script, informing Alya that, being a superheroine, Ladybug was too busy to date Adrien. The real reasons she couldn’t date him were many: Hawkmoth finding out, their fans being too intense, and, yes, being too busy.

They weren’t exactly lying to their respective interviewers. Adrien and Ladybug really were too busy. After an afternoon Akuma, Ladybug barely had time to do her homework before that night’s interview. His and her lives wouldn’t mesh, she kept telling herself. But that wasn’t the only reason.

Alya had graciously conducted the interview in her room, away from the prying eyes of the public.

“And one last question,” Alya said, to which Ladybug breathed a sigh of relief. “What do you think of Adrien’s very public declaration of love to you?”

What? Ladybug whipped her head up, eyes wide and exhaustion leaching out of her body. “His what?”

Alya turned to her computer, being seated at her desk with Ladybug on the bed, and wiggled the mouse to wake up the screen. “He just finished his interview ten minutes before you’d arrived.”

Alya quickly searched up a YouTube video from TVi and pressed play, watching Ladybug like a hawk. The still frame of Nadja Chamack and Adrien Agreste sitting on orange couches burst into full-color life.

Adrien leaned forward, giving Nadja his model smile that Ladybug hated because it was so very fake. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Nadja looked like she was going to unhinge her jaw and swallow him alive. “Yes, Adrien?”

Adrien cupped a hand around his mouth, whispering to Nadja like he was telling her a secret, even though the microphones attached to their chests broadcast their voices clearly through the studio.

“I love Ladybug.”

Ladybug’s jaw dropped open in shock. She could not believe what he’d just said. The phrase didn’t compute, running on repeat through her brain. He’d declared his love for her on television in front of a live audience?

Clearly his ‘love’ for her couldn’t be real. She only just nearly stopped herself from sneering in derision.

Ladybug clenched her fists on her thighs. How could you? How could you toy with my emotions like that? She bit back her anger and tried to draw a deep breath, but found that she couldn’t suck air down past the angry lump that had formed in her throat. Did our kiss mean nothing?

Nadja gasped, looking like she’d just received the revelation of a lifetime. Adrien leaned back. His next words were brash, confident, and Ladybug’s stomach sank further to the floor. “But we’ve mutually decided to be friends. We wouldn’t be good for each other, you know? She has her life and I have mine, and the two wouldn’t blend well.”

“This is quite a revelation.” Nadja sat back, fanning herself with a hand. “Are you on the hunt for another girl?”

“Maybe--” Adrien winked at the cameras and presumably the audience seated behind it. “--one of my fans.”

“Turn it off,” Ladybug bit out through clenched teeth, resting her forehead in her hands.

Alya immediately minimized the window. “Any comments, Ladybug?”

“No, none.” Ladybug stood from her cross-legged position, already heading towards the window. “I’m sorry, Alya, but this interview is over. Something’s come up.”

I have an Agreste to arrest.

Chapter Text

The flames of panic licked at the back of Adrien's brain, threatening to consume him.

He paced back and forth across the length of his room, heavy panicked breaths seeping through his fingers. His father had made his displeasure known, reading him the riot act during the car ride home from the interview with Nadja, and Adrien’s head was still reeling.

“How could you do this, Adrien?” Gabriel had demanded, disappointment coloring his usual monotone inflections, lip curled back in a nasty sneer. “To Gabriel? To me, me personally?”

It wasn’t about you, Adrien had thought petulantly, but then Gabriel had asked his next question, upending Adrien’s life.

“How could you do this to Ladybug?”

Adrien had blinked owlishly at his father as the seconds ticked by, thoroughly confused. “What do you mean?”

Gabriel had snorted in derision, the sneer on his face only seeming to grow, forcing Adrien's stomach to plummet through his feet. “A declaration of love on live television? Did you even think about her feelings?”

No. Adrien had not.

With his heart lodged in his throat slowly choking him, Adrien had watched the interview Ladybug had suffered through with Alya for the Ladyblog silently. The injured look in her eyes on the video feed when Alya showed her his own interview confirmed to him that he’d messed up, and he'd messed up big time.

He’d tried to talk to Plagg about it, worry trying to claw its way out of his chest like a monster, but Plagg had simply told him he was in deep. Plagg didn’t care a whit about Adrien’s love troubles; the Kwami only cared about cheese and told Adrien so.

Now Adrien was horrified at himself for his live-on-TV blunder and terrified regarding how he was going to make this up to Ladybug. The emotions blocked out all else, preventing him from doing anything but slowly spiraling further and further into a quivering mess.

He was just beginning to wear a furrow in his floor when he heard a sound that brought his heart to a stuttering stop in his chest: the gentle rap rap rap of someone tapping on his window

Adrien whirled around, already knowing what he would find, to find a red-suited super-heroine who looked as if the only thing keeping her from putting him out of his misery was a thin pane of glass. Only the small fact that the window would prove no obstacle if she really wanted to throttle him provided some comfort. He raised his hand in a tentative wave, giving her a sheepish smile, wishing he could be anywhere else. His words stuck in his throat, choking him. “Hi, Ladybug.”

Palms slick with sweat, Adrien crossed to his window with measured steps and opened it, leaving oily fingerprints on the glass. Ladybug stepped into his room, legs shoulder-width apart, hands on her hips, and radiating fury. Adrien gulped. He was so screwed...

Slowly she slid her gaze to him, her eyes like steely flint and ringed in hurt.

"Uh." Adrien bit the inside of his cheek, hard, tasting the coppery tang of blood almost immediately. "Hi. How are you?"

"Not. Good."

Adrien rubbed the back of his head, eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but at her. "I can see that."

Ladybug inhaled slowly through her nose, held the breath, and exhaled noisily out her mouth. "How could you, Adrien?" Under the accusation, he could hear the currant of hurt, of betrayal.

Adrien closed his eyes, unwilling to see the recrimination in her stare and unable to look anywhere but into her eyes now that she was addressing him. "I've been wondering that myself."

"Was it planned?"

The continued accusation in her tone was soft, gentle. She'd almost whispered, and if his room hadn’t been otherwise silent, he might have never heard it.

Unable to bear such tenderness when he was the one at fault, Adrien’s eyes whipped open to find tears beginning to well in Ladybug’s. "No!" He said, almost desperate for her to believe him.

Ladybug folded her arms across her chest in a protective gesture. "With you specifically trained to massage public opinion, I find that hard to believe."

Adrien raised a hand, using the fingers of his other hand to draw an X over his heart. A heart that was slowly shattering into tiny pieces. "It wasn't. Scout's honor."

Ladybug narrowed disbelieving eyes at him. "Were you ever a scout?"

"No, but--" Adrien found himself wanting to answer the same way he'd done with Marinette, but one look at Ladybug told him she wasn't playing around.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "All I can give you is my word that this mistake of mine--"

"And it was a mistake."

Adrien started, taking an unconscious step backwards. He kicked at the ground, averting his eyes to stare at some meaningless trinkets littered around his room. "Yes. I was foolish. I didn't consider your feelings."

Seconds ticked by, and unable to handle the sudden silence, he turned to meet her gaze straight on; if he played with her feelings by peeking at her from under his lashes, he'd never forgive himself. "I'm sorry, Ladybug. I never should have declared my love so publicly. I should have talked to you about it."

Adrien gave her a pained grimace. "I don't even know if you return my affections."

Ladybug's lips parted in surprise, though no sound came out. The desire to kiss her flared to life in the back of his brain and Adrien mentally kicked himself for the inappropriate thoughts. You have the worst timing, Agreste.

“You…” she began, mouth opening and closing a few times, her brow slightly furrowed and her eyes strained. “You actually do like me?”

Stunned, Adrien laid a hand over his heart, which pounded violently against his breastbone under his fingers. “Ladybug,” he whispered, voice almost reverent. “Of course I do. I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t have feelings for you.”

Ladybug turned away, facing the outside world through his window and hugging herself in another protective gesture. “But you don’t even know me.” Her voice was quiet, almost unsure.

Oh, but I do, Adrien thought almost desperately, wanting to take her hand but just barely refraining. “I know you’re brave. I know you have no compunction about standing up for what’s right. I know you’re loyal, kind, and compassionate.” He licked his lips. “You’re a hero, Ladybug.”

“That’s not the real me.” Ladybug stared at her feet, Adrien watched a single tear fall to stain his floorboards. “The real me is breaking under the weight of everyone’s expectations and nervous about screwing up.”

Adrien reached out a hand then and placed it gently on her shoulder, hoping to convey some comfort. She shuddered under the touch but didn’t pull away to his relief. “I’d like to get to know the real you.”

Ladybug raised her eyes to his, tears shining in the corners. “As friends?”

Adrien hesitated. He wanted to date Ladybug, desperately, wanted it more than anything. But they’d just told all of Paris that they weren’t dating. And what about his fake dating Marinette? He couldn’t very well have a real relationship while enjoying a fake one. That would be too complicated; just thinking about it threatened to bring on a pounding headache.

“Yeah.” He smiled, his heart breaking. “As friends.”

Ladybug leaned into the touch, eyes closing in pleasure before slowly opening again to watch him. After seeming to collect herself, she nodded. “Okay. Friends, then. What would you like to do, friend?”

“Ever played Ultimate Mecha Strike III?”

Ladybug’s smirk was incredibly endearing and sent his heart once again galloping through his chest, a seemingly common occurrence when around her. Adrien wanted to kiss it away. “I’ll kick your butt.”

Adrien laughed, full of genuine mirth for the first time that day. “You’re on.”

Chapter Text

Marinette felt more than heard Chat’s stomach growl, a low rumble that echoed through her otherwise quiet room. She’d been contently sewing at her desk for awhile now when Chat had looped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head, his belly pressed to the back of her chair.

Chat was such a clingy boy, she’d thought, annoyed. He took every opportunity to drape himself all over her, but she’d let him. Despite being obnoxious, he was like her own personal heater, a constant presence at her back, and she was loath to give that up.

Now, she had a different problem. “Are you hungry?” she asked him, turning around in her desk chair to regard him with a raised brow.

He had the good grace to blush, his cheeks staining pink under his mask as he let go of her and stepped back. “Starved.”

Marinette stood with a groan of pain, placing her hands on the base of her spine and pushing, arching her back in a delicate arch and stretching her sore muscles. “Mmm. Let’s go.”

Chat blinked wide-eyed down at her. She could see the nervous flexing of his fingers and the curious tilt of his head. “Where are we going?”

“Ever been to Pink Flamingo?”

Chat chewed on his lower lip in thought, worrying the skin until it began to flake. “Nope. Never heard of that place.”

“It’s in the 10th arrondissement one street back from the Canal Saint-Martin.” Marinette crossed to her closet and threw on her coat and scarf, vaulting through the skies of Paris could be cold, even if her transportation radiated heat. “We’ll be by the water while we eat, so you’ll have to keep me warm.”

Chat’s eyes glittered, a cheshire grin spreading across his face. “Another fake date?”

Marinette shrugged, walking over to wrap her arms around Chat’s neck before he scooped her up in one fluid motion. “You said you were hungry.”

Getting to the 10th by baton didn’t take too long when you were able to travel by air. Chat gingerly set her on her feet in front of the Pink Flamingo, hands hovering at her waist while she got her barings of being back on the ground. The cafe boasted bright pink tables with even pinker benches that threatened to hurt the eyes if you stared at them for too long. The storefront was all windows with black trim, with the lower parts of them painted the same color as the benches. There was certainly no way to miss this monstrosity if you were passing by.

Chat opened the door for her, enacting a mock bow and gesturing into the restaurant. “Ladies first.”

“All right, Casanova.” Marinette laughed at his display; she tweaked his leather ear on the way in, earning a startled yelp followed by a low chuckle.

Inside, square, wooden tables, blessedly not pink, were flanked by pink-topped, rounded stools. A surfboard in a myriad of colors stood embedded in the floor in one corner of the room, leaning on a wall where people had written messages in pink and green marker. The place was packed even this late in the evening, with a bustling crowd of giggling tourists and more somber locals throwing side-long glances at the aforementioned group.

When they saw Chat, a hush settled over the crowd. Marinette had just started to feel fidgety and uncomfortable at the unnatural silence until the people burst into applause and raucous cheers. Ever the attention hog, Chat fetched a bow, turning in circles to bow individually to each patron. “Good evening, Paris!”

Several people pulled out their phones, clamoring for selfies and pictures of Chat alone. Chat soaked up all the attention, posing for each click of the camera. But it was the gentle thanks of appreciation that he gave everyone who poised with him when they gushed about what he did for Paris that brought a warm smile to Marinette’s lips. She rolled her eyes and strode straight up to the counter, snagging Chat’s arm and pulling him away from his latest fan on the way over.

“Two menus, please,” she told the waiter, who happily handed her two laminated pages, eyes drifting over to Chat--who was still waving happily to various people in the cafe--more than was needed. A quick elbow to the ribs caught the cats attention long enough for her to hand over the second menu while he perused the options on her own. “What looks good to you?”

“Asparagus and parmesan?” Chat questioned, his eyes flicking over the choices. “That’s an interesting topping for a pizza.” Interesting it might be, but his tone clearly spoke to his feelings on the topping combination.

“They get even more interesting,” Marinette said, pointing out the lime-marinated pork and plantain choice. Chat chuckled, bringing another pleased smile to Marinette’s lips. “I’ve had the duck, apple, and goat cheese pizza. That one was excellent.”

After careful deliberation of everything on offer, Chat settled on the Saint Mauri, a cheese pizza topped with fresh cut melon salsa and basil, purple onions, and red peppers. Marinette selected the La Frida for herself: spicy beef, guacamole with lime and coriander, red onion salsa, diced tomatoes, and fresh cream.

Marinette took Chat’s proffered menu and handed it back to the cashier after informing him of their purchases. She pulled out her wallet, but the waiter held up his hands. “Oh, no, I couldn’t charge a Hero of Paris and his girlfriend!” Gasps exploded from the crowd at the waiter's insinuation, as if they hadn’t quite made the connection themselves yet. “This dinner is on me.”

Girlfriend? Marinette blinked owlishly up at the waiter until she realized he was right, she really was supposed to be fake dating Chat. This… could be bad.

“Thanks, fellow citizen!” Chat said, grinning in appreciation and clapping the waiter on the back, seemingly unaware of the man buckling slightly under his suit’s enhanced strength. Marinette was busy having an internal crisis over the relationship getting out, it was supposed to be a secret, just something to get a few people off her back. Now everyone was going know. Chat Noir was totally oblivious to her struggle, posing with the waiter for numerous selfies and signing a clean napkin, all the while chatting away. Then Chat turned to Marinette, bumping her hip with his. “Where should we sit, dear heart?”

Marinette sucked a breath over her teeth. “Chat--” She cut herself off, tempted to cradle her head in her hands, but settled for taking his hand instead. Cameras flashed around her, their lights blinding in their intensity.

We just confirmed I was your girlfriend! Augh! She turned her eyes up to stare imploringly at Chat, trying to impress upon him her next thoughts. Just don’t use my real name!

“Yesss?” Chat drawled, his effervescent, green eyes sparkling with mischief. He raised his hand, looking like he was going to tuck her hair behind her ear, but Marinette shot a dark warning look at his fingers. Message received, Chat aborted the motion and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly instead, making the movement look almost natural.

Marinette forced herself to take a deep, calming breath through her nose. “The Pink Flamingo is special. We don’t have to sit inside, and we probably shouldn’t.” Because I have to talk to you, darn it! “They’ll give us a pink balloon that we can take to the canal, and they’ll deliver the food there at the waterside.”

“Neat.” Chat beamed down at her and tapped his finger playfully against her nose. “Thanks for taking me here.”

The waiter jumped into action within seconds. He filled a bright pink balloon with a stylized black outline of a flamingo on it with helium, added a string, and tied that string to a weight. He handed the balloon to Chat, who took it in the hand not currently rubbing circles on the backs of Marinette’s knuckles. “Thanks for coming to the Pink Flamingo! Stop by again anytime!”

“Thanks!” Holding the balloon, Chat threaded his fingers through hers and led Marinette towards the front door but released her hand halfway out the door in order to salute the crowd. “Good night, everybody!”

Marinette nearly facepalmed in frustration. She ducked out the door, her cheeks heating with angry splotches of red. Chat followed behind her meekly as she stomped down to the canal. Finding a private spot near the water was more difficult than she’d anticipated; tourists gravitated towards Chat and took photos of him with their phones. Marinette’s frustration was growing by the second, threatening to send her off on a rant at the errant cat, who was just doing what he normally did.

I’m gonna kill him, she thought venomously, waiter, I order one dead Chat, served with garnish.

Eventually, after walking up and down the edges of the canals and dodging well-intended citizens, Marinette found a spot that seemed secluded enough for a semi-private conversation. She hoped the delivery people at Pink Flamingo would be able to find them, but right now she had bigger worries on her mind. Lowering herself to the concrete lip above the water, she allowed her legs to dangle over the edge and slapped her hands down on her knees with more force than strictly necessary, but it helped to alleviate some of the frustrated tension that had steadily been building in her muscles.

Chat settled gingerly next to her, setting the balloon down. He opened his mouth to say something, but Marinette quickly interrupted before he could say anything. “First of all, what was that?”

Chat closed his mouth for just a moment before opening it again to speak, a smile already tugging at his lips. But Marinette wasn’t about to let him placate her with good humor or try to brush the situation off as nothing serious. She shoved her finger in his face, wagging it in a clear sign of frustrated disappointment. “Secondly, dear heart?”

Chat’s smile grew even broader, clearly not understanding or realizing the magnitude of her feelings. “Marinette--”

“Thirdly, did you just tell the world I was your girlfriend to get free food?”

Heat flooded her cheeks again, anger and embarrassment painting her skin a vibrant red. Marinette never did like being the center of attention, unlike her partner. Her close-to-being-dead partner.

She was gonna kill him.

“In my defense,” Chat continued trying to placate her, holding up his index finger, “you told me the food was excellent here.” He glanced away from her and out over at the canal. “Oooh, look! There are ducks!”

There were indeed ducks, bobbing along the water as if they didn’t give a flying flip that Marinette’s world was slowly crumbling at the edges.

Marinette sighed explosively, pressing her fingers to her forehead and rubbing in an effort to ease the ache of her steadily building headache. “Can I have a serious conversation with you one time?”

“I don’t know,” Chat quipped, his white teeth flashing in the night, “can you?”

She wanted to punch that smarmy grin right off his face, she wanted to strangle him if he didn’t start taking this even a little bit seriously. Marinette growled, the sound vibrating low in her chest, and bullied her way into his space, pushing forward until her mouth was hovering just centimeters away from his. His lips looked soft, as soft as Adrien’s, her mind supplied her inappropriately, almost as if it wanted her to forget about her anger entirely. They parted out of surprise, his tongue darted out to caress them, leaving them glistening in the light of the setting sun.

Marinette’s gaze unerringly followed that tongue, her mind whispering and wondering how it would feel against hers.

Where did that thought come from? He’s so... obnoxious! she insisted to herself. It wasn’t working.

She didn’t want to kiss him! She wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake him until his head flopped off!

“Look,” she tried again, her tone bordering on a snarl. “The world thinks I’m your girlfriend now.”

Chat looked momentarily confused at her words. “But you are my girlfriend.”

“Your fake girlfriend!” She nearly screeched. Marinette turned to glance around her, ensuring that no one had actually heard her outburst before whipping her gaze back to the target of her ire.

Marinette glared at his stupid, stupid, pretty lips with all the fire she had licking in her gut. “If the world knows, Hawkmoth knows. My family could be targeted to get to you.”

Chat’s eyes widened comically; she could almost see the light bulb going off in his head. He breathed deeply, his muscular chest rising and falling. Marinette could feel his breath furling across her lips. It tasted like mint. “Oh,” he whispered. “Marinette…”

“Do you get it now?” She was still fuming, pressure building in her pounding skull; she could practically feel metaphorical steam leaking out of her ears, and she didn’t know how to calm down. Her jaw began to be sore from gritting and grinding her teeth for so long; she could feel them grating against each other unpleasantly. “Do you understand why going public was a mistake?”

Chat closed his eyes briefly, a painful grimace passing over his features as the consequences of what he’d just done seemed to finally register in his brain. He opened them again and nodded, accidentally brushing his nose on hers. Then he did something she did not expect: he reached out and cupped her cheeks in his clawed hands, cradling her face in his deceptively gentle grip and dragging his thumbs softly across the ridges of her cheekbones. His hands were comfortably warm against her chilled skin, and Marinette felt her gaze blow wide in wonder.

“I’m sorry.”

All of Chat’s ostentatious flirting was gone, replaced by sincere earnestness. Marinette was unprepared for the way his words caught the breath in her throat. He sounded so very sincere and vulnerable, like the boy she knew he was under the mask.

Something intangible changed between them; Marinette flexed her fingers, trying to grasp at whatever it was, but she found she couldn’t quite get a grip on it, but it stayed niggling at the back of her awareness.

Chat continued speaking, his words so quiet and tender she had to strain her ears to hear.

“I just… I wanted people to know we were dating, because if I were going to date someone, I’d want her to be you.”

Marinette melted in his grip at his words, her trembling hands coming up to grasp his wrists, wrapping her fingers around his strong bones. Her tongue snaked out to swipe across her lower lip; for some inexplicable reason, her lips were dry and she wanted them to be wet. All she had to do to close the distance between them was crane her neck…

But did she want to close the distance between them? Chat annoyed her. He wasn’t boyfriend material. He was at best disagreeable and at worst extremely unpleasant. She couldn’t exactly introduce a superhero to her parents… like she had done. Could she?

“Chat,” she whispered in his grip, breath ghosting across his lips and her own accidentally brushing against his with the word. Her mouth tingled in sudden anticipation. Would kissing Chat be so bad? She was supposed to be his fake girlfriend, after all. This would complete the illusion.

“Yes,” Chat whispered back, curling his tongue around her name in a way that sent shivers dancing down her spine, “Marinette?”

Her heart slammed against her breastbone, a painful rhythm. She closed her eyes, tilting her head up slightly, and felt her nose brush his again.

“I found you!” someone nearby called, bringing the moment to a screeching halt. Marinette’s eyes shot open, and she and Chat broke away from each other as if scalded. “Finally!”

As the delivery boy Marinette had completely forgotten about approached at a rapid clip with their pizzas, his feet pounding along the concrete sidewalk of the canal, she turned her head away from Chat. Her cheeks were so hot, she nearly choked; she hoped the delivery boy didn’t notice, or at least didn’t comment. Marinette had no idea how Chat expected her to eat anything at this rate.

What on earth! she thought, covering her mouth with her hands. I was about to kiss him! What’s come over me?

She stole a glance at Chat, who was happily accepting the pizzas and chatting with the delivery person as if they hadn’t almost crossed some invisible boundary.

“Thanks so much!” Chat was saying, smarmy grin locked in place. If he didn’t have the dusky rose coloring under his mask, Marinette could have sworn he’d been completely unaffected by their close proximity.

The delivery boy had Chat sign another napkin, which Chat was glad to do. Then the delivery boy picked up the balloon and took his leave, and Chat turned to the pizzas in his lap.

“So, uh,” he said to Marinette, who couldn’t possibly think about what he’d say or what she’d say in response. “Food’s here.”

“Yup.”

“Still hot.”

“Yup,” Marinette said again, even though she had no way to confirm that the pizzas were, indeed, warm. Chat opened the boxes and picked up a slice of her pizza to hand to her. She took it, feeling like her entire body was moving in slow motion, her muscles numb.

Chat shoved an entire slice in his mouth happily and chewed, a delighted look overtaking his face. Clearly he enjoyed the pizza at least.

That’s another obnoxious thing about him! Marinette thought mutinously, looking at him with a wrinkled nose. He eats as if he’ll never eat again!

The thought that her judgment of him wasn’t fair and that there was probably a solid reason that Chat ate the way he did scraped at the back of her brain, but Marinette squashed the impulse to give him grace. She was determined to nitpick her partner and convince herself that she wasn’t just about to kiss him.

Kiss Chat? No way!

Chapter Text

Adrien fixed his hundred-megawatt model smile in place as Vincent continued to snap pictures of him posing on the carousel at the Place de Vosges. Despite his outward cheery demeanor, inside Adrien seething with repressed annoyance; Vincent had pulled him out of school for this photoshoot, and right now Adrien was loath to miss his last class.

Marinette was in his last class.

He kept replaying about what he’d told her the night before when he’d eaten pizza with her as Chat, over and over on loop in his head. She’d been worried that Hawkmoth would target her family now that their fake relationship had gone public, and he’d done his best to reassure her, “Not with me around! I’ll protect you.” So confident in his ability to take care of her.

Except Adrien didn’t know how he was going to protect her, especially since he could only see her as Chat Noir sporadically. But he had to try. Marinette deserved many things out of life, his best efforts were just a small part of that. Hawkmoth could be targeting her right now for all he knew, his heart seized with panic at the mere whisper of a thought, and he was stuck at this stupid photoshoot.

She’d closed her eyes at him last night, delicate lashes just dusting her cheekbones. She’d been leaning forward into his space, her nose brushing against his with the barest of touches. At the moment, Adrien didn’t know what she wanted from him, but after ruminating on it all night in bed, he had an idea.

Were we actually going to kiss? As he mindlessly posed with a rubber duck, straddling a plastic carousel horse, Adrien’s thoughts were plagued with the way her mouth had been so close to his, he could still taste the raspberries and cream on her breath. Sweet but with a hidden tartness, just like her. Did she want to kiss me?

Do I want to kiss her?

Adrien wasn’t sure. Marinette was a great girl, and a very good friend. His best friend, if Adrien was being completely honest--sorry, Nino. Would kissing her change that dynamic? Or worse yet, ruin their friendship?

Adrien didn’t want to do anything that would alter their relationship permanently, and he was terrified of the mere possibility. He liked fake dating Marinette; spending time with her was the highlight of his day. She was brash and confident and funny--around Chat, at least. In his civilian form, she was disappointingly shy and nervous; he’d spent a long time believing she didn’t even like him.

He didn’t know what he’d done to cause the change in behaviors. And it was clearly his fault; she had no problems with Chat, even fake dating him. Marinette was fun. He liked pushing her buttons. Her reactions were cute, and he loved watching the way the flush of embarrassment would work it’s way down her slender neck after blooming on her cheeks.

They had a good connection, Chat and Marinette. They traded banter as easily as breathing, and had a good back-and-forth, push-and-pull relationship between them. Adrien had never enjoyed himself more than when he was teasing her, but Marinette often gave as good as she got, which just amplified his pleasure.

But he shouldn’t kiss her. Kissing her would certainly ruin that. Right?

Okay, Adrien decided, his cheeks burning, he could dimly hear Vincent squealing with delight on the edge of his awareness. I won’t kiss her. Unless she asks me to.

But would she ask him to? She liked him, right? Did he want her to ask him?

Adrien’s gaze drifted away from the cameras and to the streets, he could see students walking and milling around. School would have been out for at least twenty minutes by now. He’d missed his last class.

Adrien sighed, disgruntled, until his eyes caught on the girl that his thoughts had been fixated on all day. She was heading past the park on the way to the bakery, staring down at her phone.

“Marinette!” he screamed, waving to her, ignoring the disgruntled look Vincent gave him for what was undoubtedly a ruined shot. She glanced up, looking stunned--and stunning in the afternoon light. Vincent raised a brow at him when he saw just what had stolen his model's attention, but Adrien continued to ignore him and abandoned the childish props, bounding over to her. He skidded to a stop in front of her, beaming from ear to ear. “Hi, Marinette. How are you?”

“I’m--” she started, her face flushing a deep, pink color that looked beautiful on her. “I’m g-good, Adrien! You are how?”

Adrien tucked some flyaway strands of inky hair behind her ear, causing her teeth to dig grooves into her plump lips as she stared up at him. “I’m okay. Listen, I bet Vincent wouldn’t object to my having a partner for this photoshoot. What do you say?”

“P-Pose with you?” Marinette’s jaw dropped open in shock. She shut it quickly a second later with a clack Adrien thought sounded rather violent. He hoped she hadn’t bitten her tongue. “I’d… better not. I don’t know what Chat would think.”

“Chat?” Adrien furrowed his brow in confusion, not understanding what she meant by that. Marinette liked Adrien, right? Not Chat, who he was anyway. “What’s he got to do with anything?”

Marinette continued to chew on her lip, shredding the delicate skin. Adrien wished he could gently extricate her plump flesh from the grip of her teeth, but now that she’d mentioned Chat, he didn’t dare be so forward.

All Adrien would have to do would be to run his thumb over her lower lip. That’s it. That’s all he’d have to do; maybe she would even fall into his embrace from the shock. He almost reached out but restrained himself, muscles coiled tightly and ready to spring.

“You didn’t hear the news?” Marinette continued staring up at him with her gorgeous, bluebell eyes that he could easily find himself getting lost in. “Chat and I… Well…” She pursed her lips. “We’re dating.”

Adrien swallowed hard, nearly choking on the lump that suddenly developed in his throat. He should be happy to hear that she was continuing to fake date him and upholding the illusion. But for some reason, his stomach twisted into knots and he tasted bile stinging the back of his throat.

She’d just lied to his face, and she’d done it with the ghost of a smile on hers. Adrien began to understand why Ladybug hated liars. The knowledge that Marinette would stoop to that--to protect him!--made his heart ache when he knew he should be feeling grateful that she was willing to do any of it at all for him.

And he felt, absurdly, like he was his own competition. He should be happy that Marinette had someone like Chat to date. But all Adrien could think was the way she’d closed her eyes and tilted her face to him, and wondered why himself as Adrien couldn’t be so lucky, why he couldn’t seem to inspire those types of feelings in her.

As he recalled the way her lips had looked the night before, soft and plump and beautiful, Adrien suddenly felt shy. He turned to look back into the park, trying to beat down the feeling of his cheeks slowly suffusing with heat.

“Oh, um…” He rubbed the back of his head, turning his entire body slightly away from her. She was a taken woman, technically, and even though all he wanted to do was take her hand, he couldn’t impose himself on her like that.

When she didn’t say anything more, Adrien forced out his next words. “Congratulations. He’s really lucky.” It tasted like ash on his tongue.

Adrien knew just how lucky Chat Noir, he, was, but he still felt the heatt of irrational anger coiling in his gut.

“Thank you,” Marinette said, she sounded sincere, shifting her grip on her bright pink backpack. The same color, Adrien noticed ironically, as the benches outside The Pink Flamingo. “Aren’t you dating Ladybug?”

“No.” Adrien clarified, his lips tugging down into a deep frown at the corners. “We’re just friends.”

“But you’re in love with her.”

Adrien hesitated. He knew he should answer immediately, but wondered if that would hurt Marinette’s feelings. He didn’t know why her opinion was so important to him. “I am.”

Marinette nodded firmly, looking very much like she’d just snapped a puzzle piece into place. Adrien was about to ask her--what? What was he about to ask her? He had no idea. But he was going to ask her something when Vincent called.

“Time to finish up the photoshoot, boyo!” the photographer hollered. “I’m on the clock and so are you!”

Adrien turned back to Marinette, mouth open to rush out his forgotten question, but she was already staring at her phone. He tried to subtly get her attention again, wanted to take her chin in his hand and direct her gaze to him, but he knew touching a taken woman would be a terrible idea, even if his fingers tingled painfully with the mere idea.

Even if the person who’d taken her was technically himself.

I’ll visit her tonight, Adrien thought fiercely. Then I’ll touch her all I want.

“Take care, Marinette.” Adrien raised a hand in farewell, and she looked up from her phone, relieving him.

“See you around, Adrien.”

As she started walking off towards the bakery, Adrien yearned to say something--anything!--to get her to stay and pose with him. But he knew he shouldn’t. So he trudged back to Vincent, shoulders slumped in defeat, picking up the rubber ducky Adrien had discarded on the ground.

The rest of the photoshoot was lonely.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12
“--nette.”

Someone was calling her. Someone not her alarm. That someone was straddling her belly and shaking her awake at who-knew-when in the morning.

Marinette opened her bleary eyes, peering directly into Chat’s eager face. His playful, green eyes loomed in her vision and his grin was huge, his teeth flashing white in the darkness.

Marinette wanted to snap into a state of alertness so she could tell him off, but her brain was too groggy.

“Chat.” His name exited her mouth as more of a mumble than a scold. “What on earth are you doing here at--” She glanced at her clock. "--five thirty-two am on a Tuesday? Don’t you know better than to come into a girl’s room when she’s sleeping?"

Chat had left her room a scant six hours before, after they'd played card games until late into the night. He'd been as clingy as a limpet, glomming onto her while she'd sewed. As they sat side by side on the chaise, trying to figure out what to do with their evening, Chat had practically pulled her into his lap.

Even as they played Go Fish, he'd taken every opportunity to brush his fingers against hers and trail them along her arm or squeeze her shoulder. Knowing that Chat was a touch-starved boy, Marinette didn't mind all the physical contact, but at six in the honest-to-goodness morning, even she could start getting touched out.

"I,” Chat said, leaning forward into her face, his giddy one looming in her vision and his sweet, minty breath furling over her lips, “have the best sunrise spot in Paris.”

Marinette shoved him back by his nose. He sat on his haunches, ending up landing on her hips on the bed. She grunted, feeling the pressure of his butt resting on her and growing more and more irritated from his odious presence in her room. “Did I ask you to wake me up at a godforsaken hour of the morning? Did I?”

Chat cocked his head to the side. “You know, I sort of expected you to be a morning person.”

“Spoiler alert,” Marinette said, dry as dust, “I am not.”

“Great!” Chat beamed and booped her nose. She snapped her teeth at his finger and he pulled away immediately, still smiling--though it faltered slightly, making guilt tighten her belly. “That’s one more thing I know about you!”

“Fantastic,” Marinette muttered, turning over in bed and intentionally shutting him out. “Now that you know this about me, go away so I can get some more shut-eye.”

“Noooo.” Chat’s tone bordered on a whine, and Marinette scowled at him, irritation flaring in her chest. “Come on, Marinette. Let’s see the sunrise together? It’ll be pretty, I promise.”

He placed his hands together in a position of begging, which Marinette thought was adorably pathetic. “Please?”

Marinette found that resisting the kitty eyes was much harder when she was tired. She filed that information away for later and sighed. “Fine. But you’d better let me sleep afterwards, before school.”

“Of course, of course.” Chat placed one hand over his heart and held up the other one. “Scout’s honor.”

“We’ve been through this,” Marinette said, wiggling out from under him and finding the freedom both curiously relieving and constricting. Did she miss being sat on by her kitty? Why on earth? “You were never a scout."

“True.” Chat tapped his chin, his lip poking out in a super cute pout. “How can I get you to trust me?”

Marinette grumbled, sitting up on her bed. She was still wearing her pajamas, and shivered at the unwelcome intrusion of the cold on her bare arms. Her blankets had never looked so inviting. “Who says I don’t trust you? But I’d have more trust in you if you didn’t wake me up at stupid o’clock without asking.”

“Fair.” Chat nodded soberly. “Next time I want to watch a sunrise with you, I’ll ask.”

“Thank you.” Marinette crawled past him off her bed and walked down her stairs, yawning and stretching her arms above her head on the way. She scratched her cheek, wondering if it would be uncouth to scratch her butt as well, especially with Chat watching.

Whatever. It was just Chat.

She scratched her butt.

Chat followed her down and draped himself across her, pressing his chest to his back and making the hair on her arms stand on end in either annoyance or anticipation, she couldn’t tell.

“Oh, no,” she said, shrugging him off and immediately missing his warmth. “I need to get dressed, and you, mister, are going to sit on the chaise and wait until I’m ready.”

Chat pouted, his lower lip trembling seemingly in an effort to get her to feel sorry for him. Fat chance. “How long until you’ll be ready? Sunrise is at five fifty-nine.”

Marinette huffed, poking him in the chest in exasperation. “What are you sulking for? You’re getting what you wanted, a sunrise-watching partner. I am not: more sleep.”

Chat shrugged, vexing her further. “Sorry. Pegging you as a morning person got me all mixed up. I figured you got ready quickly.”

“I bet I get ready quicker than you do in the morning.” She pointed at the chaise, her demand clear in her tone. “Go, Chat.”

Chat held up his massive clawed hands, once again looking pathetic, but adorably so. “Okay, okay, I’m going.” He crossed to the chaise and flopped down on his back, placing his hands behind his head.

Marinette would not rush. She would not--not for a mangy cat, and not on account of her curiosity regarding the sunrise spot he’d picked out.

She would just… get ready. Yes.

She dragged her changing screen out, blocking off the half of her room she planned to strip in. She had a momentary fear that she shouldn’t be changing with a boy in the room, but... Chat wouldn’t peek. He’s not that kind of boy.

Picking out warm jeans, a black T-shirt with a pink axolotl on it, and her coat, Marinette changed into the new clothes, cursing her foot for getting stuck in the knee of her pants.

She dragged a brush through her hair and put it up in a ponytail instead of pigtails today, just for something different. Not for Chat, certainly not. Then she went to her bathroom to wash her face, use the facilities, and brush her teeth.

By the time she pulled on her ballet flats, Chat’s head was hanging upside down off the chaise, his legs spread up the wall. Marinette rolled her eyes in indignation; he couldn’t wait five minutes? “Done.”

Chat leapt off his seat faster than she thought he could move. He picked her up in a bridal-style carry, beaming down at her outraged squawk. “What on earth, Chat Collins Noir!”

Chat didn’t stop smiling as he carted her up the stairs of her bed to open her skylight. He chuckled as she wrapped her arms around his neck, curling into his warmth. “Collins?”

The way he’d lifted her was absolutely effortless, and Marinette reflected on how strong her partner was. Yes, part of it was the super suit, but the suits only enhanced their natural physical abilities; Plagg wasn’t pulling that strength from nowhere.

She knew Chat could do push ups one handed, plank for hours over her supine body, and do a hundred pull ups if he wanted to. She knew he worked out in his civilian life, too.

That only she knew how strong he was felt like a delicious secret all her own. She was the only person in Paris--in the world--who knew all that about Chat. She’d seen him spin that staff of his to create a shield, seen him grow from the scrawny, little boy he had been.

Being sixteen, Chat’s chest had filled out nicely; his body was lithe and muscular, like a dancer’s. Marinette had caught herself staring at him more than once, and she was staring up at the underside of his chiseled jawline now, her head tucked against his powerful shoulder as he bounded across the city.

“Collins?” he said again, forcing her gaze up to his eyes.

“Hmm?”

“Collins?” Chat said for a third time, and Marinette started in surprise, her fingers on his powerful deltoid flexing nervously.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Marinette cleared her throat, trying to stall for time. “Collins was a middle name I picked out for you. Never had the chance to use it until we started hanging out regularly.”

“Oh?” Chat’s brows rose, his word almost blown away by the wind. Marinette felt him say it deep in his chest rather than hearing it. Then he asked a question she couldn’t miss. “Do you like hanging out with me, Marinette?”

Marinette didn’t hesitate. To do so would be a disservice to Chat. “I do.”

Chat smirked, forcing heat to bloom in her cheeks like an opening peony stretching her petals in the midmorning sunlight. “Would you rather be sleeping?”

Marinette was back to scowling in an instant, all thoughts of generosity bolting out of her head like a scared, angry rabbit. “That’s an unfair question.”

“True.”

Chat maneuvered his baton to travel across the city, one arm wrapped around her back and the other tucked under her legs. He ran across rooftops and bounded in the streets. Thankfully, there weren’t too many tourists out this early, but Marinette caught a few phone cameras flashing out of the corners of her eyes.

Internally, she groaned. The more people who took pictures of them together, the more prominent their relationship would be in the collective minds of the Parisians. She and Chat had tried to keep a low profile since their pizza stop two days ago. Hence the card games and not an outing.

Chat was probably just trying to protect me by taking me out early, she thought, glancing up at his chin again and marveling at how pretty his face was. What a sweet thing to do.

“We’re here,” Chat said, and Marinette was almost too entranced by the view of Chat that she missed the view of the city from the top of the Notre Dame cathedral. Her breath caught in her throat. In the twilight’s dawn, she could see the congested streets and old buildings of the 4th arrondissement, the gorgeous architecture of the Centre Pompidou, and of course the Eiffel Tower in the distance.

She sat down on the edge of the cathedral in between two grotesques, leaning against one of the concrete demons. Chat settled beside her. “We made it in time,” he said, wrapping his arm around her. Marinette leaned into his warmth, splaying her fingers on his chest and watching the sky quickly lighten.

As it had since time immemorial, the sun began to rise.

Marinette glanced up to get a better view of Notre Dame. The top of the tower was illuminated while the rest of the cathedral was still cast in darkness, hiding in waiting for its turn to catch the sun’s rays. Notre Dame cathedral was not open early enough to catch the sunrise; the view of the first light of the day at the top was a view no one should be able to see.

No one but her and Chat. The moment felt special, taking on a sweet, thick quality, like molten honey resting on her tongue.

As the sun crested the horizon, setting the river around the cathedral on fire with red and gold hues, Marinette gasped. Due to the recent flood waters, the buildings were fully reflected in the water below. The sky was soon streaked with orange, lavender, and cotton candy pink shades.

The sunrise was the most beautiful sight Marinette had ever seen in her life, filling her with awe and settling contentment deep into her bones.

And she had her partner to thank for it.

She turned to him, placing her other palm next to the first one, right above his heart. It thundered under her fingers, a steady staccato rhythm that leapt when she flexed them. He chuckled, and she delighted in the vibrations. Craning her neck, she pressed her lips to the corner of his jaw, causing him to look down in surprise.

“What was that for?” he asked, a quizzical look on his open, vulnerable face.

She smiled and gestured out to the view, watching the way his hand followed her delicate fingers across the expanse of space. “This. Thank you.”

Chat squeezed her shoulder, making heat curl in her belly with how firm and gentle his grip was. “You’re welcome.”

Chapter Text

“Marinette, do you have a minute?” Her father popped his head through her trap door just as she was about to transform for Friday night’s patrol with Chat. “Your mother and I need to talk to you.”

“Sure, Papa,” Marinette said, blinking at him. Tikki had dived into Marinette’s purse as soon as they’d heard her father’s steps on the stairs, so Marinette knew the Kwami was safely hidden. “What’s up?”

Tom shook his head. “Let’s go downstairs and speak with your mother as well.”

Dread clenched Marinette’s stomach. If both her parents wanted to speak with her, then it had to be something serious. She followed her father downstairs, her fingers nervously flexing against each other as she wrung them.

Sabine was waiting in the dining room, already seated at the table. “Have a seat, sweetheart.”

Marinette dutifully climbed up into her chair, resting her fists on her knees. She gulped. “You wanted to talk to me?”

Tom and Sabine shared an uneasy glance. He spoke first. “It’s about your relationship, Marinette. With Chat.”

Marinette bit her lip. “What about it?”

Sabine frowned a little. “We would have liked to have been informed when you started dating someone--especially a superhero--without finding out from the local press.”

Marinette sucked a breath over her teeth. “Those pictures were published?”

Tom nodded. “They were, sweetpea. And for a lot of money, I bet. Did you expect any different?”

She glanced down at her hands. They were shaking. No lying to family.

“The relationship…” she started, drawing a deep breath. “It’s fake.”

Tom and Sabine’s brows rose. “What do you mean, love?” Sabine said, tilting her head to the side. “Why would you risk yourself like that for a fake relationship?”

Marinette hung her head. “No one was supposed to think we were dating except Alya and Ladybug. I didn’t expect us to go public.”

“Why Ladybug?” Tom said, furrowing his brow. “That cat didn’t want to make her jealous, did he?”

“No!” Marinette held up her hands. “Nothing like that. He wanted to show her that he’d moved on and she would be free to date Adrien.”

Tom and Sabine exchanged a glance. Sabine laid her hands on the table in front of her. “And Alya?”

Marinette winced. “She was the one who pushed Chat and I together. We were pretending to date so she’d… back off.”

Tom folded his arms. Marinette knew she’d disappointed him, and the thought made her stomach sick. “I don’t know how to feel about you lying to all of Paris.”

Sabine was a tad more gentle. “Would you actually date him if you could?”

Marinette considered that. The long and the short answer was that she didn’t know. Chat had plenty of good qualities for a boyfriend, but plenty of bad ones, too. Marinette thought he was obnoxious. But also sweet, kind, and compassionate. “I don’t think he’s actually interested in me.”

Tom harrumphed. “Not interested in my daughter? The boy must be blind.”

“Tom.” Sabine laid a hand on his arm. “You’re not helping.”

Marinette covered her face with her hands. “I don’t know what to do.”

Sabine cleared her throat, drawing Marinette’s attention to her. “The longer you take to come clean, the harder it will be.” Then she smiled. “But I can understand the appeal of dating one of the Heroes of Paris, even if it is fake.”

Marinette lifted her head. Wait, what?

Tom sounded scandalized. “Sabine… You’re not actually suggesting she continue to fake date him?”

Sabine shrugged. “All I’m saying is that fate works in mysterious ways. Who knows, maybe Chat will begin to understand how special Marinette is.”

Marinette wrinkled her nose. I don’t know if I want him to be interested in me. “Maybe,” she conceded, giving her parents a pained grimace. “I… I’m not sure I want to date him for real. But I do want to continue fake dating him. If that’s all right.”

Sabine offered Marinette a small nod, but Tom continued to frown. “What about your crush on Adrien Agreste?” Tom said. “You haven’t gotten over him yet, have you?”

Heat crept into Marinette’s cheeks from her tight chest. “I… no. But Adrien may end up dating Ladybug soon. I can’t control what he does, I can only control my reaction to him.”

“That’s true.” Sabine inclined her head. “Do you think you can try to get over him?”

I don’t want to. Marinette nibbled on her lip. “I don’t know.”

Tom grumbled. “He doesn’t see how special you are. I don’t approve of either boy if they can’t.”

Sabine chuckled. “Oh, Tom.”

“What?” Tom huffed. “Can you blame me for loving my daughter?”

“Maman, Papa,” Marinette whispered, blinking away tears. “Thank you.”

Sabine stood and gathered Marinette into a hug. “Just be careful, bao bei.”

Tom joined the hug, and Marinette sniffled. “I will.”

Chapter Text

Friday’s patrol had arrived, and Chat craved seeing Ladybug like he craved air or food. He hadn’t seen her since they’d played Ultimate Mecha Strike III in his room the Saturday before, and he'd been miserable without her.

She’d kicked his butt, naturally, but they’d dominated the co-op scene. They were an unstoppable team, and Adrien had never been more aware of that until he didn’t see her.

Granted, he didn’t normally see Ladybug on Saturdays--just on Fridays, for patrol, and wherever there was an Akuma--but he’d take what he could get.

Chat waited impatiently for Ladybug to arrive at the patrol spot, his tail lashing. She was sometimes a little late, but never more than thirty minutes. She was rapidly approaching forty-five, and Chat's worry was like an itch at the back of his brain driving him absolutely mad. Not that she couldn't take care of herself, but... I wonder where she is?

Then he heard the telltale ziiiiiiip of her yo-yo cable and relief crashed over him like a tidal wave. He caught her gaze as she swung over to him and his breath caught in his throat. She's so beautiful… Chat waved and beamed, watching her land on the roof when all he wanted to do was rush over there and kiss her senseless.

“Sorry, Kitty,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “My parents wanted me to watch a movie with them tonight.”

“No worries, Bug.” Chat placed a hand over his heart, breathing a sigh of relief he hoped wasn't too obvious. “I’m glad you got to spend time with them.”

Ladybug opened her yo-yo and typed something on the screen, frowning. “We’ve got two problems.”

“Two?” Chat blinked at her. They had problems? The itch of worry started back up in his brain, and he resisted the urge to claw at his skull by sheer dint of effort. “What’s the first one?”

Ladybug turned her yo-yo’s screen to him. There, on the Ladyblog, was a picture of him laughing with Marinette at The Pink Flamingo. The headline screamed, “A Secret Relationship with a Hero of Paris? Who Could She Be?”

Chat sucked a breath over his teeth. A very public fake relationship was a huge problem, one that Chat didn't know how to conquer. All of Marinette's fears during that night slammed into his chest, stealing his breath. "Oh," he said, rather lamely in his own estimation. "Does Alya identify her?”

“No,” Ladybug said, shaking her head, and Chat's chest nearly caved in with his released breath. “The actual article tells the press to leave her alone.” Ladybug gave him a look he couldn’t decipher. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng? Really, Kitty?”

Chat bristled. Ladybug's tone was awful--if he didn't know any better, he'd think she was jealous. That should have sent him over the moon, but all it did was anger him. “What’s wrong with Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

Ladybug closed her yo-yo with a snap. “Nothing’s wrong with her. She’s just… not who I expected you to be interested in.”

Chat grit his teeth so tightly, they cracked. He shouldn't be angry with Ladybug of all people, but no one attacked Marinette on his watch. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ladybug shrugged noncommittally, making Chat's hair stand on end on the back of his neck. "It’s not important, Chat.”

“No,” Chat snapped, stepping forward into Ladybug’s space. She leaned back, but he advanced, bullying his way forward and jabbing a clawed finger into her chest. “I want to know. Why don’t you think Marinette isn’t special? She’s great. She’s brave, smart, kind, compassionate, and she’s quick to take advice from others and follow it. Marinette is a wonderful girl and I am honored to be able to date her.”

Ladybug’s jaw dropped. A light filled her eyes that Chat couldn’t make heads or tails of. She tucked her hair behind her ear again, her nervous tic that Chat knew she was only making because she'd made a decision. He wondered what that was, and once again was madder than a hornet from being left out of the loop. “Well. I didn’t know you felt that way. I suppose that’s good for Marinette.”

Chat abruptly realized he'd been threatening his partner. His partner, whom he'd promised to cherish. What had happened to that promise? Ladybug's blase attitude still made him spitting mad, but he forced himself to step back. “You suppose?”

Ladybug raised a hand. “I don’t mean to doubt your love for her, Kitty. I’m just… surprised you’d want to date someone...”

“Someone like her?” Chat finished for Ladybug, snarling, his back against the proverbial wall again. He didn't like where this train of thought was going at all; Ladybug clearly had no idea how wonderful Marinette was. He'd just have to show her, though it rankled that Ladybug wouldn't listen to him.

Ladybug ducked, her cheeks blazing red, much to Chat's satisfaction. “No. Someone other than me.”

“Is that what this is about?” Chat narrowed his eyes. His theory about her being jealous was right, apparently, but rather than satisfying him, all it did was make bile rise in his mouth and burn the back of his throat. “You’re feeling competitive?”

“No, not at all,” Ladybug said, touching his arm. The contact soothed Chat for some reason he couldn’t pinpoint. “I’m happy you’re moving on. And I’m sorry I’ve been terrible about it. Marinette is really lucky to have you as a boyfriend.”

Boyfriend. That word threw what Chat had done into sharp relief: He’d lied to Ladybug. He’d lied to her face, when he’d never lied to her before. Chat had practically promised never to lie to Ladybug, and as far as she knew, he never had.

And he'd bullied, her, too. He'd been combative and cruel, and she'd just… taken it in the patient way he knew she would.

All his anger splashed to the floor like a popped water balloon. He swallowed hard.

“Ladybug, I…” Chat gripped his elbow, retreating into himself. He felt like a heel, and if she never wanted to see him again, well, he'd just… take it. He deserved her running away from him, the monster. Nausea punched him in the throat, bubbling up his chest and giving him heartburn. "Look, I…”

Ladybug placed a finger on his lips, catching his breath in his throat. “You don’t have to tell me anything, Kitty.” She released him and stepped back, and once again, Chat could breathe. “Can we talk about our second problem now?”

“We haven’t solved the first one yet, but sure.”

Ladybug shook her head. “I’m not supposed to solve the first one for you. That’s between you and Marinette.” Ladybug gave him a strange look and then busied herself by hooking her yo-yo around her waist. “Our second problem is Hawkmoth.”

Chat winced, once again hearing Marinette's fears in his head. “I wondered if you were going to say that.”

Ladybug pursed her lips, sinking Chat's heart through the floor. “Yeah. He’s been quiet recently. We haven’t had an Akuma in a week and a half and it’s making me nervous.”

Chat reached out and drew back. He didn’t know whether he’d be allowed to touch her since he’d lied to her. “Don’t be nervous, Bug. Maybe he’s just taking a break?”

“I doubt it.” Ladybug tapped her chin. “I bet he’s planning something.”

“What could he be planning?” Chat's breath ratcheted up in pitch and frequency, exiting his mouth in a high-pitched wheeze. He didn't know why he was panting; he just was. “I mean, I can’t make heads or tails of what he does on the regular, much less what he might be thinking.”

Ladybug booped Chat’s nose, making him sneeze. “What do you think, Kitty? It’s obvious.”

“Guh." Chat wiped his nose on the back of his wrist, hoping Plagg wouldn't mind the abuse of the super suit. "I don’t think it’s obvious.”

“He’s going to target Marinette and her family.”

Chat’s belly went cold. His heart plummeted through his feet and then slammed in his mouth. Choking around the beating organ, Chat’s next word came out in a strained whisper. “Oh.”

Ladybug frowned deeply, making him feel even worse. He'd put Marinette in danger and disappointed Ladybug, too? “Chat. Did you not think this relationship through? What if he figures out who Marinette is? If the press gets her name, it’s all over.”

Chat gripped his throat with his claws, scratching himself through the suit. Fire sparked in his chest as his breaths came thick and fast. “I’ll protect her!”

“What if you’re not around, Kitty?” Ladybug’s gaze softened. “You can’t protect her every day. You have school.”

Tears stung Chat’s eyes. He didn’t know how he was going to protect Marinette, but he had to try. “We share a class.”

Ladybug started and then her eyes narrowed, making him want to melt through the floor. “You should not have just told me that, Chat Noir.”

“I know,” Chat said, scrubbing his hands over his face, desperate to handle this situation and return to any sense of normalcy. “Can you protect her? Do you share any classes with her?”

“You know I can’t tell you that, Kitty.”

Chat nodded morosely. “Look, Ladybug--”

“Have you been watching out for Adrien like I asked you to?” Ladybug poked Chat in the chest, more gently than he'd done to her, but it still stung that she'd do that. “How are you going to protect Marinette, too, when you’re supposed to be looking after him?”

Chat bit his lip so hard, the copper tang of blood flooded his mouth. “I think the threat has passed for Adrien. He’s already explained to the world that you two aren’t dating. That should be enough for his fans, and yours, too.”

Ladybug’s tone was dry as dust. “Some people still think otherwise.”

Chat threw his hands up, nearly smacking her in the nose on accident. “What do you want me to do, Ladybug? I can’t be in two places at once.”

Ladybug sighed. “The point is, Chat, Hawkmoth knows she’s important to you.”

“Like he knows Adrien is important to you.”

Ladybug gasped.

“No way,” Chat said, his brows raising in utter disbelief. “Had you not considered that when you kissed him? Even after you found out I was dating Marinette?”

Ladybug curled in on herself, turning away. Chat felt slightly guilty that he was the cause of her hangdog expression, but only slightly. “I was only thinking of our fans.”

“So there’s only one solution.” Chat rubbed his temples, trying to ward off a threatening headache, which was no mean feat given his pressurized eyes. “We find Hawkmoth and take him out.”

“Or,” Ladybug said carefully, slanting him a sideways glance, “you could stop dating Marinette.”

Chat’s heart made a vicious resurgence in his throat. His mouth went dry, and he clenched his fists. “No.”

“What was that?”

“No,” Chat whispered again, his chest shaking with the rapid beats of his heart. “No. I refuse. If we can’t date people, I don’t want to be a superhero.”

Ladybug’s eyes widened. “Now you’re being overly dramatic.”

“Then can I reveal myself to her?”

“No,” Ladybug said at once in a tone that brooked no argument. “That’s the last thing we need. If your identity were compromised and you broke up with her and she got Akumatized...”

Chat turned away, fisting his hands in his hair. “Then what do I do?”

Ladybug stared at him. “Do you love her, Chat?”

“I…” Chat couldn’t get enough air. He sucked down breath after breath and still felt dizzy. “I don’t know.”

“If you loved her,” Ladybug said, laying a hand on his shoulder, “you would let her go.”

Chat closed his eyes as tears pricked the corners. “I can’t.”

Ladybug rubbed his back. He didn’t react to the touch in the way he expected; rather than being soothed, his skin crawled. “Why not, Kitty?”

“Because I want to date her,” Chat said, realizing the truth himself. He wanted to date Marinette? Why? At the moment, he had no filter, so he just started talking and let his mouth run away from him, processing the words even as he said them. “Marinette is one of my favorite people. She makes me feel important. She makes me feel worthwhile. She makes me feel...”

“Wanted?”

Chat opened his eyes, a mixture of pain and relief coalescing in his heart. He didn’t know why he’d be relieved that Ladybug understood his relationship to Marinette--wouldn’t that hurt Ladybug?--but he just was. “Yeah.”

Ladybug withdrew her hand. “Then you’ll just have to be extra vigilant. Make sure nothing happens to her, Kitty, or her blood will be on your hands.”

Chat swallowed hard, still tasting blood--his literal or Marinette’s figurative, he couldn’t tell. Ladybug was giving him permission to continue the fake relationship--which was what he wanted, right? Why did his heart continue to hurt?

“Okay,” he croaked, his voice coming out as if his throat was rasped by a wire brush. He knew he had to take responsibility for this mess he’d made. It was time to superhero up. “Okay.”

Chapter Text

“Well, hello, Princess!” Chat called, standing on top of a streetlamp just outside their school and scaring the socks off Marinette.

She’d been too focused on analyzing every boy in her classes to see if they’d measure up to Chat Noir to notice the superhero in question. Ivan? Too big--and big-hearted. Nino? He was with Alya. Nathaniel? He did have a crush on her once upon a time...

“Chat!” Marinette clutched her heart to keep it from pounding out of her chest. Her voice had come out of her in a shrill shriek she could only call hysterical but to be fair to her, he had startled her with his obnoxious presence. “What are you doing out in public? Is there an Akuma?”

Chat slid down the streetlamp, his beaming grin as wide as Adrien’s size eleven feet. “I’m here to walk you home from school, of course!”

Marinette squinted at him. This was the boy who refused to stop dating her for some strange reason? And wasn’t that a heady thought! He’d felt wanted, and so he wanted her to want him. That’s all it was.

That she could make him feel wanted had plagued her all day. She couldn’t even get her schoolwork done, she’d been so distracted by Chat’s smile looming in her head. What on earth had she done to this boy? What kind of an effect did she have on him?

What kind of an effect did he have on her? That was a thought best left unexamined, Marinette had thought.

Which brought her to the present moment. He’d promised to protect her the night before, which Marinette had thought was foolhardy at the time but sweet now that he’d actually shown up. “What do you want to walk me home for?”

Chat walked--no, with his hips popping like that, he sauntered--over to her, a move she couldn’t help but think was sexy before she consciously tamped thoughts like that down. He clasped his hands behind his back and leaned into her space, his masculine scents of charcoal and leather wafting over to her nose. “Well, suffice it to say that I’m worried about you.”

Marinette pushed him back by his nose, a habit ingrained after years of rebuffing his advances. Yes, that was the natural response: turn him down. She didn’t want anything to do with him--at least in a romantic sense. “Why?”

Chat wriggled his nose, and then gave her a somber look. Marinette had rarely seen him so serious, and his expression made her heart stutter in her chest. Was he finally taking his superhero duties seriously, like she’d wanted him to do since the very beginning? “Ladybug thinks Hawkmoth is planning something and may possibly target you. So I’m here to prevent that.”

Marinette’s gaze softened. So he had been listening to her. Heat blazed in her cheeks, and her chest was tight once again, as it had often been as of late around him, though she couldn’t possibly fathom why. “Oh. Thanks.”

Chat looped an arm around her shoulders. “How about a trip to the local farmer’s market?”

Marinette found herself leaning into the touch, but then straightened her shoulders and shook him off. What an idiot she was, being taken for a ride by Chat of all people! “Which one?”

“Marché Saxe-Breteuil, of course!” Chat smiled, tucking his fists under his chin. His gorgeous green eyes glittered, and Marinette found herself falling into his gaze, leaning into his space before realizing what she was doing and straightening. “We can have a picnic on the Jacques Chaban-Delmas.”

“Not the Eiffel Tower? Marché Saxe-Breteuil is in the 7th, too.”

Chat waved a dismissive hand, rankling Marinette. “Nah, the Eiffel’s too busy this time of year. Most of the tourists stick close to the monuments like the Eiffel and Rodin museum, so the market is relatively tourist-free.”

Marientte tapped her chin, pretending to be calmer than she really was. Chat riled her up, and she never knew what to make of him. He made her head spin and her cheeks flush, and she kicked herself for letting him have that kind of effect on her. “I guess we can go there. Is this another fake date?”

Chat shot her a pair of finger guns and flashed her that smile, the one that set her traitorous heart to pounding. “You know it.”

“We’ll have to stay out of the way of phone cameras.”

Chat unzipped his pocket, pulling out a black, hairy thing. “I’ve got a fake moustache here for you.”

Despite that being absolutely ridiculous, Marinette cracked up. He presented her the moustache in both hands, his effervescent, green eyes shining. It was straight out of a Snidely Whiplash cartoon, curling like it owned the air around it.

Still giggling, Marinette took the moustache, peeled off the plastic protecting the sticky part, and affixed it on the top of her lip. It itched and drove her absolutely batty. She loved it.

Striking a pose, she showed off her muscles, preening in a way she knew she shouldn’t. She didn’t want to give him the wrong idea! He had no chance with her, despite feeling wanted by her. Again, she had no idea how he’d come to that erroneous conclusion.

Determined to correct his false impression of her wanting him, Marinette posed in the most ridiculous manner possible, to throw him off the scent. “How do I look?”

“You look beautiful,” Chat said, his gaze impossibly soft.

Marinette gasped, her cheeks flaring up with heat. She rubbed one, nonplussed and unsettled, unable to wrap her brain around Chat actually thinking she was pretty. He’d lied to her the night prior as Ladybug; surely he was lying now!

But the way he was looking at her… That was not the look of a boy who was lying. That was the look of a boy who l-lov… “Um. Thanks.”

Chat unzipped his other pocket. “Here’s some sunglasses, to complete the look. No one will know it’s you!”

Marinette took the sunglasses and donned them, turning her vision dim. She undid her pigtails and placed the scarlet bands around her wrist. “I’ll put my hair down, so my pigtails won’t give me away.”

Chat stepped forward into her space and combed his clawed fingers through her hair. He was standing so close, she caught a whiff of his spicy, masculine scent. “I told you your hair looks pretty when it’s down,” he murmured, his voice gentle and for her ears only. “Thanks for wearing it this way.”

Marinette’s cheeks would never rest at this rate. She stared up at him, finding herself short of breath and inhaling the aromas of leather, charcoal, and the delicious, unique scent of his sweat as she panted. Her mouth watered at the olfactory assault; say what you will about Chat, at least he smelled good!

He was still carding his fingers through her hair, his touch soft and reverent, and eyes worshipping everything about her. Marinette loved having her hair played with and so rarely had someone do that, but she wasn’t about to tell him that she liked what he was doing, lest he get the wrong idea that she actually liked him, too.

“I-I’m not wearing it down for you!”

Chat smiled softly and shook his head, looking rather beautiful himself to Marinette. “Of course not.”

He stepped back, and Marinette found she could breathe again--until he extended his baton in one hand and offered her the other. She placed her cool hand in his warm one, and he spun her into his arms, heat curling in her tight gut at the thought of how strong he was.

It’s hot out here. Isn’t it hot out here? Marinette thought almost hysterically; pressed up against his body with his hand splayed across her back, she could feel the massive amount of heat emanating from him. Surely it wasn’t because she was embarrassed!

“Shall we?” he said, picking her up in a bridal carry. She secretly thought he liked carrying her that way--and just as secretly thought she liked being carried that way.

Unable to speak, Marinette gulped and nodded.

Chat gripped the top of his baton and shot them into the air, making Marinette gasp and fling her arms around his neck. She knew he wouldn’t ever drop her; his speed just made her stomach flip, that was all. It wasn’t like she wanted to hold onto him! Surely not!

Chat leaned forward, effortlessly pole-vaulting across the city. Marinette was getting used to traveling this way. She glanced down at the streets rushing below them, the tourists looking like so many fleas. The wind blew her face back. Feeling like she was floating, Marinette whooped.

With her chest pressed against his, she felt more than heard the vibrations of Chat’s chuckle. She wished she could hear it in the wind; Chat had a great laugh, and he never did laugh enough for her.

Chat bounded over to the 7th arrondissement, landing in the middle of the outdoor stalls of the Marché Saxe-Breteuil. The market was open to the air and bustled with Parisians. Chat set her down. Still out of breath, Marinette swayed on her feet, and Chat steadied her with his hands flying to her elbows.

She found herself staring up into his bright, green eyes, which were lined with concern. The rest of the Parisians fell away; she was caught in the trap of his gaze.

“You okay?” he asked, though he may as well be speaking into the wind for all she paid attention to his words. It was only because she was watching his lips that she noticed he was speaking at all.

Marinette stumbled over her response, feeling incredibly warm in his arms. She pushed away from him, pressing her hands on his chest and delighting in the feel of his hard muscles under her palms. “Mmhm! ‘M fine. I’ll be fine.”

I can’t keep staring at him like that! Marinette thought, placing her knuckles to her mouth, which had started tingling for some reason unknown to her. She wasn’t thinking of kissing Chat. She wasn’t! How embarrassing!

“Shall we?” Chat said, offering his hand to her. She took it, focusing on her feet rather than the vast selection of fruits and vegetables around her. His hand was warm in hers, his long, delicate fingers perfectly entwined with hers.

“Chat Noir!” a vendor called, and Chat waved. He led Marinette over to the fruit merchant, and she came willingly, though she did wonder if the man had a camera that he’d take pictures of them with to sell to the press.

This fake date is dangerous!

But she was already having too much fun to quit.

“Afternoon!” Chat said, smiling at the vendor. Then he turned to Marinette, casting that bold, broad, beautiful beam at her. “Would you like some fruit, dear heart?”

The tender way he said the nickname made Marinette’s cheeks blaze yet again. This is fake, this is fake, this is fake!

She forced a smile to her face and looked up. “Sure.” Turning to the stall, she examined the offerings, ignoring the way her hand had begun to sweat in Chat’s and the way they fit together so perfectly. The stall possessed apples, oranges, bananas, and some uncommon fruits like pomegranates and jackfruit. “An apple, maybe?”

Chat pulled out his wallet--which Marinette was not looking for an ID in--from his pocket and paid the man. “Keep the change!” Chat said, selecting a bright, red, Fuji apple. He shined it with his wrist and offered it to Marinette, who took it shyly.

“Thanks, Chat.” Marinette bit into the apple and hummed thoughtfully. The fruit was crisp, sweet, fresh--and delicious. The apple had a well-balanced chew and was slightly earthy, with a taste reminiscent of snap peas. It was the finest apple she’d ever eaten. “It’s good.”

Chat offered her his hand again. She took it and allowed him to lead her through the crowd, wondering again whether being seen with him in public was a good idea. “I was thinking…” he started, glancing over his shoulder at her. “If you’re hungry, we can get piroshkies here. There’s an excellent shop here with them.”

Marinette took another bite of her apple and tilted her head at him. She’d never heard of a piroshky. Did that mean Chat was a man of culture? That was a surprise. “What’s a piroshky?”

“Oh, you’ve never had one?” Chat grinned back at her, so she stepped up to walk by his side, her hand still fitting together with his like tumblers in a lock. Despite only having one hand to eat her apple with, she didn’t dare drop his hand; his palm kept her tethered to him, which was exactly where she wanted to be for a reason unknown to her. “It’s a buttery Russian biscuit stuffed with all sorts of fillings. Ground meat, cheese, potatoes, cabbage… They’re delicious.”

Marinette’s hand swung in his, putting a spring in her step. He kept up with her easily, his stunning blond mane bouncing as they walked. “They sound amazing. Yeah, let’s try one!”

“But first…” Chat guided them to a florist, who beamed at him. The stalls overflowed with flowers--lilies, daisies, baby’s breath, and others--ranging from single blooms to full bouquets. Candy hearts and chocolates rested in a bin, waiting to be purchased and consumed.

Marinette inhaled the heady scents of the flowers and felt dizzy. The aroma wasn’t as delicious as Chat’s, but she would take what she could get. She smiled up at Chat. When had he grown so tall? she wondered.“What are we here for?”

Chat just winked at her, which left her more dizzy than the flowers.

“Hello!” the vendor said. “A bouquet for the lady?”

“Just a single rose,” Chat said, pulling his wallet out of his pocket. “Pink, please.”

“Oh, no,” the florist said, holding up her hands. “I couldn’t charge a Hero of Paris.”

Chat shook his head. “I insist. It needs to be a gift from me.”

“Chat,” Marinette whispered, her eyes going wide. He used to offer Ladybug roses. Would he ever do that again, or was he truly focused on wooing Marinette? Why? What did she have to offer him? “You don’t have to--”

“Marinette.” Chat peered down at her in such a warm way, it made her knees weak. Money exchanged hands and Marinette shifted on her feet, feeling unsteady again. Chat took the flower from the florist and sank to one knee. “Please? Humor your kitty.”

The florist gasped, and Marinette swallowed hard. He was her kitty? She’d thought he was Ladybug’s kitty. When had he become Marinette’s? She’d never claimed him, though she was wondering if she should. “It’s beautiful.”

Chat smiled and stood. He stepped close and tucked the rose behind her ear, his gentle touch--and the way his fingers lingered on her inky strands--leaving her breathless. “It suits you.”

He thanked the squealing florist and offered his hand to Marinette again, who took it in a daze. “Shall we?”

As they walked down the market’s block, Marinette was too distracted by the warmth of Chat’s hand in hers to focus on eating her apple. By the time they reached a cheesemonger’s shop, where Chat purchased a particularly smelly camembert for Plagg, Marinette’s face was flaming.

While Chat was paying for the cheese, Marinette choked down the rest of her apple and disposed of the core in one of the compost bins. Chat returned to her, beaming, and took her hand again.

“So,” Marinette said, keenly aware of the rose that he’d bought for her resting behind her ear, “the piroshky shop?”

Even if she hadn’t claimed him as hers, he’d clearly claimed her as his. She’d always known Chat had a possessive streak a mile wide, and his purchasing her a rose had sealed that.

“Yes.” Chat nodded, tucking the camembert wheel in his pocket. “It’s right around the corner here.”

Just as they rounded the corner, while threading their way through the crowd of Parisians, a man called out, “Miss Dupain-Cheng!”

Who could that be? Having been focused on her and Chat’s entwined hands, Marinette glanced up from them, glancing around for the person who’d called her. “Yes?”

Rushing through the crowd were several men and women holding cameras of various types. “Miss Dupain-Cheng!” one said, waving a tape recorder at her as they all advanced. “A comment for the Parisian Times?”

Marinette gasped, pulling away and leaning into Chat, who threw his arms around her protectively. The press had found her? Hawkmoth would be next, she knew. The knowledge that she’d be targeted because of her fake relationship to Chat opened a pit of cold in her stomach.

She was horrified that things had progressed to this point; all she’d wanted to do was get Alya off her back and have a little fun with her partner, that was all.

It wasn’t Chat’s fault Hawkmoth would target her. Marinette knew that logically, but her gut told her that breaking up with him was a terrible idea. He’d be lonely for sure. And now...

“How did they get my name?” Marinette whispered up at Chat, watching his gaze darken and his lips tug down at the corners.

The reporters reached them and started taking pictures. Chat placed his hand on her face and tucked her head against his broad, muscular chest, practically snarling, “She has no comments.”

The next thing Marinette knew, she was being shot into the air, tucked tightly against Chat’s chest. Even the feeling of his muscles under her palms didn’t distract her from her spiraling thoughts, though Chat’s rapid heartbeat almost did.

Flipping them over through the air, Chat landed on a nearby rooftop in a crouch. He ran across the roof, leaping over the side and using his baton to fling them across Paris. He almost seemed like he was fleeing an akuma, and Marinette couldn’t blame him. She’d do the same if she were transformed.

Chat didn’t stop moving until Marinette found herself on her balcony. He’d still had her head tucked against his chest, so she couldn’t see much of his face, which she regretted immensely.

If Chat had just broken up with me, we wouldn’t be in this position. Marinette’s thoughts were ugly, overwhelming her with anger. It wasn’t until Chat spoke that she realized she could have broken up with him.

Not that she wanted to.

“Marinette,” he said, his voice soft and pained through the vibrations on her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

Marinette shook her head and Chat carefully set her down. He placed his baton on his back and took her shoulders in his clawed hands.

She didn’t want to look up into his eyes. She knew she’d find hurt there. But Marinette forced her gaze upwards and sighed.

Just as she expected, Chat’s bright, green eyes shimmered with pain. She sucked a breath over her teeth. Her kitty was troubled; Marinette had to do something to help. “Chat…”

Chat hung his head. “Us dating… even fake dating… is dangerous. The press knows who you are now.” He swallowed, and Marinette watched his Adam’s apple bob rather than peer too closely at the tears rolling off his cheeks. “It’s only a matter of time before Hawkmoth does as well.”

Chat grimaced and her heart pounded in her palate. “Dating me… it’s not worth it.”

That didn’t make sense to her. Chat was a great fake boyfriend; just like she’d made him feel wanted, he made her feel wanted, too. And every activity they’d done together, even though it was all counterfeit, had been an absolute blast.

If only he weren’t a superhero...

“Chat,” she whispered, cupping his cheeks. Marinette’s chest shuddered; she had to do something to fix his aching heart, or she’d go mad. “I want to fake date you. I’ve never had more fun.”

The decision surprised even her, but she ran with it because she wanted to. No other reason. She was Ladybug; she could take care of herself.

Chat gasped, sounding so surprised, Marinette’s heart twisted in her chest. “Really?”

Marinette nodded slowly, running her thumbs over his cheekbones to wipe the tears away. His cheeks were so beautiful, just like his soul. She smiled a little, hoping she came off as reassuring. “I guess the moustache and sunglasses combo didn’t work.”

Chat offered her a wet laugh, throwing his head back with it. She released his cheeks and giggled with him. “Oh, Marinette,” he said, catching one of his tears on his clawed fingers. “You’re too funny.”

“I guess you could say your sense of humor has rubbed off on me.” Marinette winked at him. Making him feel good made her feel good too, that was all. There was nothing more to the way her heart fluttered in her chest at his smile, or the way her thoughts had been all on him for the past several weeks, or the way the thought that she made him feel wanted… made her feel warm. “But I’m still not joining you in the punning.”

“Hey, now,” Chat said, rubbing his knuckles tenderly against her cheek. She leaned into the petting, wishing he could just stay and stroke her forever. “I haven’t thrown a pun at you in ages.”

“Losing your touch?”

Chat stroked her face, threading his fingers through her hair. That felt so good, Marinette practically melted on the spot. “I’ve got all the touch I need right here.”

Marinette’s gut tightened in embarrassment or anticipation, she couldn’t tell. Since when had she started allowing him to touch her so much? He obviously wanted her, and she didn’t know how to feel about that.

On the one hand, it felt great. More than great. She wanted him to want her, just like he wanted her to want him. Wanting to be wanted was a natural inclination everyone had; Marinette couldn’t blame herself for that. And Chat was especially lonely, being cooped up in his room all the time. The thought of it made her heart stutter painfully, caught in a vice.

On the other hand… was there another hand? Could it really be that simple?

Assuming her Ladybug confidence, she huffed, pushing him back from his nose. “You are rather clingy.”

“Clingy!” Chat scoffed playfully, delighting her with how quickly he’d recovered from his despair. “You just can’t get enough of me, can you?”

Marinette gave him a skeptical look. Couldn’t get enough of him, ey? He was absolutely wrong about that. Why, she’d had enough of him the first time he came over and asked her to fake date him! “Oh, believe me, I can. Now scat, cat, you’ve walked me home and I have homework to do.”

Chat gave her the kitten eyes. No, no good. He’d given those to Ladybug and she was immune, transformed or not. “Please, Marinette? Let me stay?”

“Nope,” Marinette said, popping the p. “I’m sure you’ve got homework, too. Aren’t we in the same school?”

Chat started, alarm filling his eyes, though Marinette didn’t know why. “Where did you hear that?”

Marinette’s eyes widened. He’d told Ladybug that, not Marinette. Backtrack, backtrack, her mind screamed. “Oh, uh, I just assumed, since you got to the outside of the school so quickly.”

“Oh.” Chat rubbed the back of his head, not looking entirely convinced, but presumably thinking about how to cover his tracks now that she’d put him on the defensive. “What a… uh… silly thing to think. Of course we’re not in the same school, haha!”

Marinette’s gut twisted. He’d lied to her point blank. What else have you lied about, Kitty? She knew he’d also lied to Ladybug about the relationship between him and Marinette, which made her feel terrible. He’d lied to protect her--and himself--but that didn’t soothe her soul.

But she’d lied to him, too. As Ladybug, she’d pretended that she’d had no idea who he was dating until her picture was published on the Ladyblog. That made her feel awful, too, almost as awful as Chat, her partner she’d promised to cherish, lying to her. She secretly hoped he was as torn up about lying to her as she was lying to him.

If I ever revealed myself to him… we’d have a lot to talk about.

“Anyway...” Marinette gripped her elbow, feeling inexplicably nervous. Why was she worried? Chat hadn’t done anything to her… But lie. “You probably should go.”

“What if the press dogs your house?”

She hadn’t thought of that. “You’ll just have to pick me up for school, then.”

Chat smiled and nodded, looking relieved to Marinette, though she couldn’t possibly fathom why. “Can do.” Then he frowned, the pensive expression marring his face. “What about your parents?”

Her parents were the least of her worries. They were capable adults who could take care of themselves. “If they want to give an interview,” Marinette said, shrugging, “then I’m sure they’ll give one. If not, they can handle themselves.”

Chat blinked, appearing nonplussed. “You really think they’d give an interview?”

Marinette grinned up at him. “Why not? ‘My daughter’s dating a superhero’ would be great PR for the bakery.”

He chuckled, and once again, his laughter was too quiet for her. “Can’t fault them for that.” Chat peered down at her. “You didn’t lie to them, did you?”

“No,” Marinette said, shaking her head. They’d been right to set that ground rule of no lying to family; Marniette would have felt awful if she had. “I told them the truth.”

“Good.” Chat booped her nose, making her wrinkle it. There he goes again, touching me like he owns me! she thought “I know you’d never lie to them if you could help it.”

Except all the times I’ve lied about being Ladybug. Marinette’s stomach plummeted through her balcony’s floor. If only you knew…

Not for the first time, she considered revealing herself to Chat. But that would only cause trouble. If one of them were akumatized… She didn’t even want to think about it.

“See you around, Chat.” Acting on impulse, Marinette pressed a kiss to his cheek. If he could touch her anytime he wanted, she could touch him, too, she reasoned. He leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering closed before opening again. “Look after yourself, okay?”

Chat threw her a two-fingered salute. “Of course. Same to you.” He leapt up onto the railing, the picture of feline grace and super strength. “Really, do be careful, Marinette. If… If you ever need help, just scream, okay?”

Marinette shoved on his chest, not intending to knock him over but knowing he’d compensate for her, which he did. “Go, Chat.”

He grinned and dove off the railing, making her breath catch in her throat. Just as he was about to hit the ground face-first, he flipped over and extended his baton, shooting up into the air.

Marinette smiled fondly, shaking her head. “Show off.”

From his wink, she knew he’d heard her. Watching him leave, Marinette beamed from ear to ear. Silly cat, she thought, sighing happily as she leaned on the railing. Ridiculous boy.

Dreaming of being wrapped in Chat’s arms, Marientte didn’t get any of her homework done.

Chapter Text

“No fair!” Adrien said, happily bumping Ladybug’s shoulder with his own as she sat on his couch with a controller in her lap. “That’s cheating.”

She’d dropped by as she always did--at random, this time on a Sunday evening, to play Ultimate Mecha Strike III with him. Adrien was ecstatic to receive her, letting her in through his window. It was after dinner, so he expected to be left alone for the night, but Ladybug clearly had had other plans.

Adrien didn’t know if she’d suspected how lonely he could get at night, with no one but Plagg to keep him company, but he was happy to see her in any case.

“It’s only cheating if I looked up the combo,” she said, smirking at him in such an endearing way that Adrien wanted to kiss her senseless. “Which I didn’t.”

Adrien had still been annoyed with Ladybug for her reaction to the news that Chat was dating Marinette, but he decided he couldn’t hold that against her. If he’d been in the same position as she had been, he couldn’t imagine he would have reacted any differently.

Adrien huffed and picked up his controller, fully intent on beating her into the ground. “One more round. Just one more.”

“That’s what you said five rounds ago.”

Adrien threw his hands in the air, faking being frustrated but having a grand old time with it. “What would you do in my shoes? I have an incredible person choosing to spend time with me; wouldn’t you want to milk that for all it’s worth, too?”

Ladybug flushed, her cheeks turning a beautiful dusky rose color. Adrien needed to kiss her like he needed breath in his lungs. She turned her gaze to the television, and Adrien tried not to feel disappointed. “On three.”

“One…”

“Two…”

“Three!”

Adrien fought her and fought hard. He executed a flawless triple kick combo, which she blocked. She landed a mega punch on his mech, making him stumble. Spinning the joystick in a three-quarter turn and pressing all four controller buttons at once, Adrien called upon his special bar, charging his mech with power.

He pummeled Ladybug’s mech with a series of punches and low kicks, whooping as her health bar plummeted. But just as he was about to stick the end combo, she grabbed his mech and threw him off the side of the ring.

“Ring out!” the game shouted, and Adrien groaned, resting his forehead in his hand.

“You did well, Adrien,” Ladybug said, shyly tucking her hair behind her ear. Normally she gloated over her wins a little; Adrien wondered what had changed.

He bumped her shoulder again, the only touch he allowed himself to give her when all he wanted to do was seal his lips on the skin of her neck and count the beats of her pulse with his mouth. “You did well, too, Ladybug.”

She nodded and then stretched her arms over her head, arching her back. Adrien tore his eyes away from the curves of her body, his cheeks flaring with heat. Did she do that on purpose? he wondered, feeling flushed. No, Ladybug’s not that devious.

“I guess I’d better go,” she said, standing from the couch. “It’s after midnight.”

“Yeah.” Adrien set his controller on the table next to hers, knowing she was right but already regretting the time he’d miss her. “Ladybug?”

She turned to him, a smile curving her pretty, pink lips. Adrien recalled the way those lips had felt on his and sighed. Ladybug leaned into his space, her big, bluebell eyes piercing him. "Yes, Adrien?"

"Are you… happy here with me?" Adrien swallowed hard. He didn’t know why the question made him so nervous; it just did. "Being my friend, I mean."

"Of course I am." Ladybug's words warmed him from the inside out. "Are you happy with me?"

"Yes!" Adrien placed his hand over his pounding heart. He had to tell her the truth; it was bursting out of him at the seams. "I lo--just adore you, Ladybug."

Ladybug covered his hand with hers briefly, sending a secret thrill through him. She was so close, he could taste the raspberries and cream on her breath.

Marinette's breath tastes like raspberries and cream, too, Adrien's traitorous brain reminded him. I wonder what her lips feel like?

The girl in front of him took on Marinette’s features. Adrien leaned forward, almost pressing his mouth to hers, until he realized whom he was looking at. Wait, Adrien thought, a gasp building in the back of his throat. This is Ladybug! And I’m not supposed to kiss Ladybug!

He broke away from her, just barely catching the look of disappointment in her eyes. Eyes that reminded him so much of Marinette’s that he thought his vision was blurring. That settles it. I’m going mad.

Ladybug laid a hand on his shoulder. He felt very much like Chat in that moment, about to have his back rubbed, that he flinched. Ladybug withdrew her hand as if scalded. “Adrien? Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m--” Adrien began, but then cut himself off by biting his lip. Ladybug was staring up at him with a look of concern he could have sworn he’d seen on another girl.

And would it be so terrible if Ladybug was Marinette? They’d have a lot to talk about, sure, but if she was Ladybug, she could protect herself from Hawkmoth and Adrien’s heart wouldn’t be in his throat every time he thought about the imminent threat.

But Ladybug couldn’t be Marinette. He saw the two of them together when Marinette had been Multimouse.

Unless… That was an illusion? The Fox Miraculous did exist.

Something intruded on Adrien’s thoughts, something that felt very much magical in nature. Quantum masking, maybe? All this thinking was giving him a sharp, sudden headache. He was tempted to clutch his head, but he refrained, as he didn’t want to alarm Ladybug. She was already worried, as evidenced by her nibbling on her lower lip and staring at him with wide eyes.

Adrien straightened his shoulders, offering Ladybug his sunniest, most genuine smile. “I’m fine. I just… need to make up my mind.”

“Make up your mind?” Ladybug furrowed her brow. “About what?”

Adrien waved a hand, knowing he was dismissing her concerns, but unwilling to get into his complicated feelings about the two lovely women in his life. He didn’t want to offend Ladybug, but he absolutely didn’t want to offend Marinette, either.

“Sorry, Ladybug, it… it wouldn’t make sense to you, I don’t think. Suffice it to say I’ve got two choices ahead of me and I need to make sure I don’t screw this up.”

Ladybug clutched her elbow, looking defeated, and Adrien’s heart went out to her. “I wish I could help.”

Adrien took her by the shoulders, holding her gently when all he wanted to do was wrap his arms around her and clutch her against his chest. “Just… continue being my friend? I don’t want to lose our friendship, okay?”

Ladybug smiled at him, and Adrien’s heart sank. He was in deep. “Okay.”

Chapter Text

Staring at the back of Adrien’s head in their science class on Monday, Marinette sighed dreamily. She’d played video games with him all evening as Ladybug, as they’d held up a friendly competition whenever they could.

He had seemed distressed about something, though, and Marinette couldn’t make heads or tails of it. She wondered if he still wanted to kiss her as Ladybug, or if that ship had sailed.

She’d told him that they couldn’t date, and she stood by that. But as Marinette sank deeper and deeper into a fake relationship with Chat, her excuses for Ladybug not dating Adrien had been shown to be the flimsy things they were.

Ladybug could protect him from Hawkmoth. Ladybug could spend time with him. Their lives would, in fact, mesh, as she’d proven by visiting him on occasion to play games.

And didn’t she already have all that with Chat? He’d protected her from the press and no doubt could protect her from Hawkmoth. He spent time with her as often as he could. Their lives meshed fairly well.

“I need to make up my mind,” Adrien had said, and all Marientte could think was, Mood, Adrien, such a mood.

As the teacher droned on, Marinette sketched absentmindedly. She’d started out with little depictions of Adrien, catching his gorgeous features with her pen, but it wasn’t until Alya pointed out Marinette’s subject had changed that she’d realized… She’d been drawing Chat for the past twenty minutes, ten minutes longer than she’d been drawing Adrien.

Oh. What does that mean?

Alya slipped her a note. Just as Marinette was about to unfold the paper, Adrien leapt from his seat and tackled her to the floor. He cradled her head in his hand and shielded her shoulders from the impact of the ground with his own body. “Get down!”

Marinette tried to whip her head up, but struggled against his hand. Sudden terror struck her; whatever his reason for doing this, it had to be a good one. “Adrien, what--”

An explosion rocked the school, tearing off a corner of the roof and scattering shrapnel everywhere. Screams roared in Marinette’s ears, as did a clarion call: “Marinette Dupain-Cheng!”

Marinette felt the color drain from her face. She stopped struggling against Adrien, her breaths coming soft and fast.

Hawkmoth had come.

Another explosion destroyed all the windows in the class, sending glass shards flying into the students. Shrieks erupted around the room.

Marinette had to transform. She had to get away, but Adrien was covering her body with his and holding her down. Feeling helpless like this, she elbowed him in the ribs. He grunted but didn’t move.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” the Akuma called.

Just when Marinette was about to scream, Adrien stood abruptly. He dragged her to her feet and into a bridal carry, tucking her head against his chest. Kicking his way through the door, he bolted from the room.

Chat… Marinette thought absurdly. This was Adrien! Just because his chest felt the same and the same scents were filling her nose didn’t mean he was Chat.

His heart slammed under her cheek, pounding so rapidly she thought it might burst from his chest. She glanced up at him only to see the ugliest expression she’d ever seen on his face. He was scowling, his lips pulled back in a silent growl and his eyes so hard and determined, she thought he might bore holes in the walls.

Marinette had never seen Adrien so fierce.

She’d seen that look on Chat plenty of times.

A headache bloomed in the back of her head, striking her so viciously she felt nauseated. She closed her eyes briefly to ward off the pain, but when she opened them again, she found herself in an empty locker room.

Adrien set her on her feet, where she swayed. He tore a locker open and shoved her inside.

“Adrien!” she screamed, raising her hands. She couldn’t stay in a locker! She needed to fight the Akuma! She had to get him to see sense.

“Stay here,” he snapped, in a tone that brooked no argument, stunning her into silence. “Stay here, where it’s safe, and I’ll find Chat.”

Despairing, Marinette knew she wouldn’t win against him when he was like this, so she nodded. Adrien slammed the locker’s door in her face, causing pain to bang around in her brain.

Marinette waited until she heard Adrien’s footsteps pound away from her, wanting to bite her nails with every loud step. “Tikki--”

“Marinette!” her Kwami said, floating up in the light of the tiny slits in the door. Marinette couldn’t waste time with Tikki’s exhortation. She needed to transform now! “We need to--”

“Spots on!”

Pink bubbles and light washed over Marinette, but she didn’t have the time or the space to do her usual poses. She jammed her knee into the locker’s door, sending it flying across the room. The door bounced on the other lockers, landing on the floor with a sickeningly-satisfying clatter.

Ladybug darted from the room, building up speed as she ran through the hall. Another explosion rocked the school, followed by a cry from Chat that made her stomach sink through the floor. Ladybug broke a window with her elbow and flung her yo-yo out, determined to help her kitty.

Once on the roof, she saw the fashion disaster that was the Akuma floating on a cloud of purple bubbles. He clapped his hands, sending more bubbles down to the roof where Chat did a backflip out of the way. The bubbles struck the roof and blew a hole in it.

“Bug!” Chat called, whipping his baton to the side. She was so relieved to see him, she let loose a soft sob. “This one’s after Marinette Dupain-Cheng!”

“I know!” Ladybug called back, spinning her yo-yo. She swiped at the bubbles below the Akuma, but the weapon passed harmlessly through them.

Oh, no, Ladybug thought. She’d been hoping that those, too, would explode.

The Akuma laughed and sent more bubbles flying her way. She took off at a dead run, the incendiary bubbles landing behind her and setting the roof to crumbling. Little fires had started everywhere; if Chat and Ladybug didn’t defeat this Akuma soon, the school would catch fire and all the students would burn to death.

I won’t let that happen. Ladybug gritted her teeth, narrowing her eyes in determination. “Chat, cover me!”

With a bloodthirsty bellow, Chat charged the Akuma, bounding up from the lip of the roof to engage. Ladybug couldn’t concentrate on what her partner was doing; she was throwing her yo-yo in the air. “Lucky Charm!”

A fire extinguisher fell into her waiting hands. Finding a gulf between her and Chat where the roof used to be, she swung over to the other rooftop. Then she cupped her hand around her mouth and called for him. “Kitty! Over here!”

Chat disengaged and ran on all fours across the undamaged lip of the roof, his tail lashing and his eyes filled with fear. Violent bursts sent concrete shards after him, and one of the explosive bubbles caught him in the back.

Ladybug screamed.

When the dust cleared, her partner was on the street below, practically buried in rubble. He appeared unharmed but shaken. He offered her a trembling thumbs up and started extricating himself from the rebar and concrete chunks.

Ladybug couldn’t let him get hit again. She couldn’t. She snarled, charging the Akuma head on with the extinguisher. Depressing the handle blasted foam towards the bubbles screaming her way. As she expected, the bubbles sank like stones in front of her, cracking on the roof.

With one hand on the extinguisher, Ladybug whipped her yo-yo forward, wrapping it around the Akuma’s waist, tempted to headbutt him as soon as she reached him for hurting her partner. She jerked herself towards the Akuma and lifted the extinguisher as she flew.

Panicked, the Akuma sent bubble after bubble after her, but Ladybug covered them with foam. He opened his mouth to scream, but Ladybug depressed the handle and shot the extinguisher right into his face. As he gurgled, choking, Ladybug tore off his belt, the only accessory he had, and snapped it over her knee with a satisfying crack.

Purple bubbles washed over the Akuma, revealing a mousy man with a receding hairline. He shrieked as he fell, but as Ladybug’s yo-yo was still wrapped around his waist; all she had to do was jerk him up into her arms. She caught him, landing on the roof in a crouch.

Her chest shuddered, but she didn’t have time to cry over Chat. She had a victim to attend to, so Ladybug was all business. “Are you okay, sir?”

The man trembled in her grip. He offered her a tremulous smile. “I’ll be okay now. Thanks, Ladybug.”

She set him down and he sank to the rooftop, wrapping his arms around his knees and resting his head on them. The victims always made her feel terrible; Hawkmoth would pay for hurting the people of Paris--Ladybug guaranteed it.

Chat… Ladybug grabbed the extinguisher and threw it up in the air. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

Her millions of tiny helpers flowed around the school, putting out fires and restoring damage done by the incendiary bubbles. Ladybug swung her way down to the street below, finding an unburied Chat. She threw her arms around him, letting loose a choked sob. “Don’t ever do that again!”

“Do what?” She could hear the smile in his voice. “My job?”

Ladybug pulled back, her eyes filling with tears. She hiccuped. Ladybug hated that answer, and hated the nonchalant way he said it. How dare he make her worry so? “I guess.”

Chat was beaming, but then the smile quickly faded. He took on the fierce look that Ladybug had seen on Adrien. She furrowed her brow, and her headache returned with a vengeance. “Marinette!”

Chat streaked off towards the school before Ladybug could stop him. He pumped his powerful arms and legs, eating up the distance between him and his quarry.

Ladybug, whose earrings had started beeping, frantically dove towards an alleyway. “Spots off!” she called, and shoved a cookie at Tikki, who took it into her purse.

Knowing that Adrien was probably at the lockers by now, Marinette scampered towards them. She ran as fast as she possibly could, but just as she reached the hallway, she heard an agonized howl.

When she rounded the corner to peer into the room, she saw Chat standing at the open locker, his eyes darting around. He reached into the empty space with a clawed hand, feeling around for something.

Chat… is…

Marinette’s head throbbed viciously, forcing her to clutch it and cry out. Chat whipped his head up. Abruptly, she was wrapped up in his arms, his cheek pressed against hers. She felt his tears run down her face, matched only by her own pained ones.

“Marinette,” he croaked, cupping the back of her head. On instinct, her hands slipped up to his shoulder blades, clinging tightly. Chat’s masculine scents of charcoal and leather filled her nose, and she took comfort in them even knowing she was the source of his worry. “Marinette…”

Panic licked at the back of Marinette’s aching brain. “Where’s Adrien?”

“He’s safe.” Marinette felt more than heard the words. “He asked me to check on you.”

Marinette sagged in Chat’s hold, her breaths coming evenly whereas his hitched. Her headache had all but disappeared as soon as she heard that. “Chat.” She threaded her fingers through his wild mane. “I need to get back to class.”

Chat’s chest shuddered against hers. “Yeah.” He coughed and pulled back, wiping his nose on the back of his wrist. “I’m just… glad you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.” Marinette gently touched his cheek with a smile. Her kitty was so sweet. “You protected me. So did Adrien.”

“I’ll have to thank him,” Chat said, though the dry, sardonic way he said it gave Marinette pause. “Are you sure you’ll be okay, little mouse?”

Little mouse? Marinette thought, blinking at him. Oh, right, he saw Multimouse.

She gave him a thumbs up, trying to send him off with relief rather than worry. “As well as I’ll ever be! Now scat, cat, I need to check in with my teacher.”

Chat nodded, sniffling. “At least let me walk you to class?”

Marinette sighed, lowering her head. She knew she wasn’t going to win with him like this. “All right.”

Chat insisted on looping an arm around her shoulder on the way, so progress back to the classroom was slow. She knew that Adrien and Alya would probably be freaking out from her taking so long to check in, so Marinette tried to walk as fast as she could.

Chat didn’t let her, tucking her against his side and running a hand through her hair, irritating her. Her pigtails had come loose by the time they’d arrived.

“Oh, Marinette!” the teacher said, placing a hand over her heart. “I’m so glad you’re back. It’s a good thing you have a superhero boyfriend.”

“Yes, thank you, I’m--where’s Adrien?” As Marinette’s eyes scanned the room, she saw Alya and her other friends, but not the love of her life. Her heart slammed in her throat, choking her. She whirled to face Chat. “Please! You have to find Adrien.”

Chat held up his hands in a defensive gesture she recognized all too well. “Don’t worry. He’s probably hiding. I’ll find him.”

Marinette panted, licking her lips in a panic. “Please, Chat.”

Chat didn’t answer in words. He turned around and strode off towards another classroom, one that Marinette knew would be empty at this time. That’s probably where Adrien’s hiding.

Marinette’s stomach flipped when she saw the boy in question walk out as if he were on a catwalk. A sob built up in her throat, but it died when she saw him smile. As he reached her, he raised a hand in a wave. “Hey, Marinette.”

Marinette flung her arms around his neck, burying her nose in his shoulder. He smelled of charcoal and leather, just like Chat, and her headache reasserted itself. “Cha--Adrien? You scared me.”

Adrien clung to her. “Sorry, Marinette. I… just wanted you safe.”

That wasn’t what scared me.

“Adrien, Marinette,” the teacher said, raising a hand. “It’s time to continue class.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they both said, Marinette dejectedly, Adrien happily. They walked arm in arm to their seats, and as Marinette took hers, Adrien trailed his fingers along her arm.

Alya waggled her brows at Marinette, who buried her face in her hands.

How was she supposed to focus like this?

Chapter Text

Hawkmoth threw Akumas every day after that, targeting Marinette at school. Adrien seemed to have a keen danger sense, and after a week, she’d started getting used to being shoved to the floor under the model.

Her fearsome blush would never go away at this rate, nor would her heart stop rattling around her ribcage in both fear and anticipation.

He’d come find her no matter where she was, as if he knew her schedule, which was preposterous. And of course, she’d end up in the locker and have to transform and kick her way out, and Chat would be there on the rooftops waiting for her.

It was almost a pattern. A routine.

Until Hawkmoth killed her parents.

The Akuma attacked the bakery in the middle of the night, setting it on fire. Tom and Sabine were trapped inside by a fallen beam, and Ladybug watched, horrified, as the fire consumed them.

Forgiving the Akumatized victim had been especially hard that day.

Chat had taken up residence on her balcony, staying out there in a sleeping bag. He refused to let her sleep in the same space as him--she’d be uncomfortable, he said--so it was like a tug of war each night trying to get him to go home.

His devotion to her was sweet. Sweet and foolish.

Now, Saturday morning, Marinette woke in her bed with bleary eyes, having stayed up late talking to Chat, as usual. Neither of them were getting much sleep and both of them were strung out by the Akuma attacks. Something needed done.

Marinette rose from her bed in the morning, trudging down her steps. She and Chat had a routine at this point--whoever woke up first would bring the coffee from her parents downstairs. She saw Chat’s sleeping back still pressed against her skylight, so she figured he must still be asleep.

She yawned, stretching her arms and wishing the stiffness in her muscles would just go away already. “G’morning, Tikki.”

“Good morning, Marinette!” Tikki was always full of pep and good cheer, especially in the early hours. Marinette had no idea how the Kwami did it. I bet Plagg’s not a morning person, Marinette thought, a shade resentfully.

Marinette couldn’t fault Tikki for being such a happy Kwami just after dawn; that’s just how she was, even though it drove Marinette bonkers. Deciding to get on with the day–what torture–Marinette washed her face, trying in vain to wake up, and dressed herself in a red T-shirt and blue jeans. She hoped the red wasn’t painting a target on her back.

She left her hair down today. Not because Chat liked it that way, but just because she wanted to. Surely. Then she trudged downstairs to pick up the coffee and Viennese pastries her parents had prepared for her and Chat’s breakfast.

“Morning, Marinette!” Tom said, greeting her as soon as she entered the bakery proper. He gave her a quick hug and then fetched her coffee. “I see Chat is sleeping in today.”

“Sleeping in?” Marinette blinked up at her father. “What do you mean?”

“It’s eleven-forty, sweetpea.”

Marinette swung her head to the wall where the clock hung. “Oh, wow. Good thing we didn’t have any plans today.”

“Look, Marinette…” Tom shifted on his feet, offering her the two steaming coffee mugs. “I appreciate that Chat is looking out for us, especially after…”

Tom paled, and Marinette set the mugs down on the counter to enfold him in another hug, her heart breaking and full of anger at Hawkmoth. Her father gladly took the embrace, clinging to her tightly.

Tom cleared his throat and continued, clearly putting on a brave face, which shattered Marinette’s heart into itty bitty pieces. “But sleeping on a balcony isn’t doing him any favors.”

“I know.” Marinette sighed, ridiculously frustrated with that mangy cat. “He won’t listen to reason.”

Tom gently pinched her nose and shook her head back and forth. “Of course he won’t. The girl he loves is in danger.”

“Loves?” Marinette drew back from Tom, furrowing her brow. Loves? No. Papa is wrong. That’s ridiculous. She began to object, but her father cut her off. “Chat doesn’t love me. I told you, we’re only fake dating. He doesn’t--”

“No,” Tom said firmly, squaring his shoulders. Marinette knew with that look; her father wouldn’t listen to reason either. “I know love when I see it.” Tom’s gaze softened, making Marinette’s heart jump to her throat. “Chat loves you, dear heart.”

The nickname made Marinette gasp. It was the same one Chat called her. Could he…? Does he…? Marinette swallowed hard, trying to think through all the implications about this. She had to be rational. She had to be smart. “I… I don’t think…”

“You should be thinking,” Tom said, his tone chiding and teasing and loving all at once. “Why would he protect you and the people you love so fiercely if he didn’t love you in return? Why would he sleep on a balcony, rising only to fight Akumas or go to school? Why would he spend every waking moment with you, laughing the way he does whenever you make the slightest joke?”

Marinette covered her face with her hands, unwilling to see Papa anymore when he was spouting nonsense. Could her father be right? That all sounded suspiciously like love to her. She had to refute this.

“Chat protects me and you because that’s his job.” Marinette’s mouth was curiously dry. The words she spoke made her physically uncomfortable, and she didn’t know why. “He sleeps on my balcony because he’s committed to the fake relationship and won’t see reason. And he laughs the way he does because… Because… that’s just who he is.”

“Who he is,” Tom said patiently, booping her nose and making her think of Chat once more, “is someone who loves you.”

Marinette stared down at her feet. She didn’t know if she wanted Chat to love her; she wasn’t worth all the trouble. “He’s… He’s funny. And compassionate. And loyal. Papa, I don’t deserve a boy like Chat.”

Her father bristled. “Hogwash.” He took Marinette’s chin in his hand and guided her gaze to his fierce one. “Anyone who thinks my daughter doesn’t deserve a kind-hearted boyfriend is someone who will have to answer to me.” Tom pulled his hand back and smiled. “And that includes you.”

Tears stung Marinette’s eyes. She didn’t know what to say to this onslaught. Could Chat love her? Could he? Why? The idea was like a burr under her skin: unpleasant and yet… She wanted him to love her. She wanted that so badly, it hurt worse than the burr.

But he couldn’t love her. Could he? Marinette had to change the topic. Right now. “T-The coffee is getting cold.”

“Then you’d better take it to him.”

Marinette wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand and nodded. She was so weak. “Yeah.”

Mind whirling what possibilities could be and shutting them doiwn immediately, Marinette tucked the bag of pastries under one arm and picked up the coffee mugs in both hands, carting them upstairs. To open the skylight, she had to set the coffee down on her bed, which she did without spilling a drop. If she spilled, Chat would try to wash her bedding, and she couldn't have that.

Placing the coffee through the skylight on the balcony, Marinette pulled herself through the skylight. She glanced down and saw Chat’s legs tucked into his sleeping bag. His upper body was sprawled out of it, his arms above his head and his muscular chest rising and falling with his soft snores.

Marinette smiled. He looked so harmless when he was asleep, nothing like the feral, Akuma-battling machine she knew he was. His mouth was wide open and he had a bit of drool pooling at the corner of his lip, trailing down his chin.

Cute. Marinette’s cheeks flared with heat. She felt like a voyeur, someone intruding on a private moment but at the same time it felt like the moment was meant for her. So cute.

Marinette knelt beside him, placing the coffee and pastries down nearby. His wild mane looked impossibly soft and incredibly tempting. Marinette didn’t think twice. She ran her fingers through his blond locks, sighing when she felt the texture of the strands.

Chat smacked his lips and rolled over, wrapping his arms around her hips. She squeaked quietly, not wanting to wake him up. If he woke up, it was all over; she was clearly taking liberties she should not.

Marinette knew his neck must be sore with his head not lying on his pillow. On impulse, she carefully guided his head to rest on her lap. He murmured some nonsense words and she grinned despite the heat constricting her chest.

His skin looked just as silken as his hair. Acting on impulse, Marinette stroked his cheek. Chat sighed in his sleep, moving his head into her belly in an implicit demand for comfort.

Marinette giggled softly. I wonder what his lips feel like? she thought, running her thumb over his lower lip. He pursed them, and looked so incredibly kissable in that moment that Marinette almost gave into temptation.

She pulled back, raising her head with her cheeks blazing. I can’t kiss a boy in his sleep! Especially not Chat! But once she’d started wondering what his lips felt like on hers, the thought wouldn’t leave her alone.

It was like opening a floodgate; she was buried in thought after thought of the times she could taste his breath. He always tasted of mint--except for now. He had morning breath, which made her laugh.

Chat’s clawed fingers flexed on her back. His eyes fluttered open, and he craned his neck up to look at her. “Marinette?” he said muzzily, as if his tongue were thick in his mouth. He unwrapped himself from around her and sat up with a grunt, scrubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Coffee?”

Marinette handed him the mug of precious caffeine juice, which had gone lukewarm. Chat gulped it down, taking merely a moment to swallow the entire cup. He pulled the mug away, licking his lips. His kissable lips, even with coffee smeared on them.

He glanced at Marinette, and asked the question she knew he was going to ask but didn’t want him to. “Was… Was I in your lap?”

“Uh.” Marinette tucked her hair behind her ear, trying to think of a way to change the subject but coming up blank. “Is that a bad thing?”

Chat shook his head, making that--impossibly soft, Marinette thought--hair bounce. “No? I guess not.” He offered her a sly smile, his bright green eyes glittering. “But next time, can I be awake to enjoy it?”

Marinette slugged him in the shoulder. The nerve of him! “Sorry. That was a one time thing.”

Chat huffed, looking entirely too disappointed for Marinette’s tastes. “Figures.”

“Hey, Chat.” Marinette took one of the pastries and offered it to him, selecting one for herself. She finally found a topic to change to: the meal. “As this is lunch--”

“Lunch?”

“It’s nearing twelve.”

Chat whistled. “I must have been tired.” He rubbed his neck, wincing, and took the pastry she offered. Shoving the entire thing in his mouth, he chewed and swallowed.

Why did I used to think the way he ate was obnoxious? Marnette chastised herself. He’s too cute.

Chat yawned, his brilliant white teeth showing. “Sorry, go on?”

“Would you like to do something after lunch?” Marinette peeked at him under her lashes, not trying to come on to him but clearly doing… something. She couldn’t believe she was asking him out; the words fell out of her mouth unbidden. This was Chat! But she kept speaking, condemning herself.

“I mean, if you want to, we could stop by a chocolate shop.”

“Which one?” Chat inhaled another pastry. “There are plenty around Paris.”

“Jean-Charles Rochoux is a place I’ve always wanted to try,” Marinette said, starting in on her own food. Once she started eating, she found she was famished, and scarfed down her own Viennese pastry. “They make mini-sculptures out of chocolate.”

Chat stared at his hands. “Are you sure you want to be in a public place with me? I’m… I’m dangerous.”

Marinette drew herself up straight, as straight as she could be while sitting. “You are not dangerous, Chat Collins Noir. Hawkmoth is the dangerous one, not you.” She threw her hands in the air, determined to show Chat the error of his ways. “Just because you’re a superhero--honestly!”

Chat bit his lip. Then he broke down laughing. He laughed long and hard, throwing his head back and clutching his belly. Chat laughed the way no one else did: he lunged into it, guffawing as if he had no cares in the world. Marinette found it endearing but also annoying.

She frowned at him to show her false displeasure. She couldn’t be mad at him for laughing the way he did, even if he was laughing at her. “What’s so funny?”

“You just--you looked so fierce just now.” Chat wiped his eyes with his clawed fingers, and Marinette wondered absurdly how he avoided poking himself. “Like you were about to strangle Hawkmoth all by yourself.”

Marinette calmly sipped her coffee, giving him a dark look and the impression that she wasn’t all riled up. “Don’t mess with me until I’ve had my caffeine juice.”

“Noted.” Chat stuffed yet another pastry into his mouth. “Okay, I’ll head home and shower and check in with my… guardians. Hopefully they haven’t checked on me this morning, but I doubt it.”

Chat never talked about his home life, which made Marinette sad. The glimpses she got of it were even sadder. Her heart went out to him, and she almost touched him, but she decided against it. If she touched him, she didn’t know if she’d be able to stop.

Chat stretched his shoulders, rolling his arms. “Then we can go to the chocolate shop.”

Marinette brightened. She got what she wanted! They were going on a date! “You mean it?”

“Yeah.” Chat beamed. “You’re right, we need something calm and happy. Things have been super tense lately. And another fake date sounds right up my alley.”

Marinette’s heart sank, though she wasn’t sure why. Of course he would think the date was fake. He didn’t know I was really asking him out.

It was official: Chat didn’t love her. She felt the burn of tears in her pressurized eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Marinette refused to be sad about this; she couldn’t let him know that she was even remotely upset.

“And,” Marinette said, tweaking his nose playfully, “if something happens, you’ll protect me, right?”

Chat’s smile faded into a somber look. He took her hand and placed it on his heart, which pounded under her fingers, warm and full of vigor. “With my life, Marinette.”

Marinette nearly choked on his sincerity. He looked so vulnerable in that moment, so very serious, that she knew in that moment that he would gladly die for her. He’d die for anyone. That’s just who he is.

“Who he is,” Tom had said, “is someone who loves you.”

As Marinette gazed at Chat’s earnest face, something sparked between them. Something intangible and dangerous, an undeniable chemistry. She wondered if he felt it, too.

Marinette leaned forward to kiss him, but he seemed to not notice and pulled away, leaving her dejected. He stood and turned away, stretching his shoulders again and cracking his neck. “Shower time!”

He doesn’t feel it. Marinette wiped at the tears forming in her eyes before they betrayed her to Chat. There’s no way he loves me.

Chat reached for his baton and glanced over his shoulder. “See you soon, Marinette.”

“Yeah. See you soon.”

Chat blinked at her. “You alright?”

“I’m…” Marinette shook her head, deciding to be honest with him for once in her life. “I’ll be alright.”

Chat crouched in front of her. “Was it something I said?”

Yes. “No.” Marinette put her coffee mug down and shoved at his chest. “Go take a shower, you big lug. Give Plagg a rest for once.”

Chat facepalmed. “Of course. Poor Plagg.” Chat reached out and squeezed her shoulder. She leaned into the touch, willing him to stay forever, shower be darned. “I’ll be right back to protect you, okay? You don’t have to worry.”

“Okay.” She forced a smile for him. “See you.”

Chapter Text

“Plagg.” A freshly-showered Adrien flopped back on his bed and threw his arm over his eyes. He stretched his sore neck, tempted to fall asleep right then and there. Despite sleeping for more than ten hours last night and this morning, he was still exhausted. But he still had a chocolate shop to take Marinette to. “I’m sorry.”

“I know, kid.”

Before showering, Adrien had checked in with Nathalie and made sure that there were no photoshoots he’d had to attend. She’d remarked upon the bags under his eyes, and he’d been too tired to think up a proper response, making her tsk at him.

“You need to take care of yourself, Adrien,” she’d said. “Gabriel has an image to protect.”

“I will, Nathalie,” he’d lied through his teeth, feeling absolutely rotten for more reason than one.

Every bit of Adrien’s body ached. No matter how much he stretched, his shoulders kept seizing. But more than physical soreness, Adrien was heart-sore. “This sleeping on the balcony thing isn’t fair to you, Plagg.”

“Nope.” Plagg shoved an entire wheel of camembert in his mouth, grossing Adrien out. “But you’re going to keep doing it, aren’t you?”

He didn't have a choice. Marinette was in danger and it was his fault, which twisted his gut into pretzel shapes.

Adrien nodded morosely, tucking his chin against his chest. Immediately after that, he felt Plagg shaking his shoulder, and Adrien opened his eyes. “Wha?”

“Wake up, kid,” Plagg said, gently smoothing Adrien’s bangs out of his eyes, a touch that brought tears flowing up from heaven knew where. “You still need to go on the date with Pigtails.”

“Fake date.”

“Sure, kid.”

Adrien rolled off his bed, landing on his hands and knees. He stared at the floor for a few moments before Plagg tugged on his ear, which hurt, but Adrien didn't have the wherewithal to get him to stop. “Come on, Adrien,” the Kwami said, strangely insistent. “Transform.”

Adrien gave into a yawn, hanging his head and feeling nausea punch him in the fuzzy mouth. He didn't know why Plagg was so… so something. Adrien was so exhausted, he couldn't think of the word to describe Plagg's actions. “Aren’t you tired, Plagg?”

“Of course.” Plagg looked shifty, jerking back and forth in the air. "But…”

“But?” All Adrien had to do was close his eyes, and he’d be asleep again. He didn't dare. He blinked them rapidly, squeezing them shut and opening them again.

Plagg sighed explosively. “But your girlfriend is waiting on you.”

“Fake girlfriend.” Adrien’s response was immediate and reflexive. He was too tired to worry about whether he wanted Marinette to be his real girlfriend, though the thought tickled the back of his brain, as it always did of late.

I have to get up. Marinette is waiting for me. Resolve cracking, Adrine sagged to rhe floor, but another tug on his ear from Plagg made him struggle to his feet, eyes sandy.

“Fake girlfriend,” he repeated, trying to separate the faux from the real as he always had to do in her presence. What would Ladybug think about this challenge? Adrien wondered.

“Sure, kid,” Plagg said again, and Adrien wanted to roll his eyes but couldn’t summon the energy to do so. “Now come on, transform. I’m fed up.”

“Plagg…” Adrien yawned again, his jaw cracking with the effort. He blinked blearily at his Kwami, wondering when the mini-god got so blurry.“Claws out.”

Plagg’s energy flooded Adrien, and he stood a little taller, squaring his shoulders. His transformation always filled him with raw, destructive power, like a firecracker about to go off. Chat didn’t know how a creature as tiny as Plagg could contain so much life, but the boy wasn’t complaining.

No, Adrien was grateful for Plagg. He was all that would get Adrien through the day; despite Plagg’s graciously allowing Adrien to borrow some energy, the boy was still barely able to keep his eyes open.

Absentmindedly wondering if Ladybug felt the same about Tikki, Chat leapt out his window, using his baton to vault him over to the Dupain-Cheng’s bakery. He landed on Marinette’s balcony and tapped on her skylight.

Marinette popped her head out, looking much more refreshed than he did. She’d applied some black lipstick and blush to match her red and black T-shirt, and Chat felt his cheeks heating up just looking at her. Purrs rose from his chest. “You look great.”

Since when did his voice get so husky? He sounded like he was about to devour her, for goodness’ sake! He tried to rein in the purring, but the vibrations had a mind of their own. His tail curled and his ears fluttered; they, too, worked without his permission.

Marinette’s flush had nothing to do with the makeup she’d applied. She tucked her hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. “Chocolate?”

“Chocolate,” Chat agreed, lifting her in his typical bridal carry and secretly relishing the way she fit so perfectly in his arms.

Their fake date was off to a great start. After she’d given him the address, he bounded across the city to the 6th arrondissement, yawning all the while. When they arrived, he saw that the storefront of Jean-Charles Rochoux was navy blue, with huge windows and a white overhang labeled, “Chocoloterie.”

The door was entirely made of glass, impressing Chat. As he set Marinette down, he swayed on his feet, exhaustion creeping through his bosy. She caught his arm, tugging him upright. “You okay?” she asked, alarm written large on her face. “You don’t look like you feel well, Chat.”

“No, I’m fine.” Chat waved off her concern, determined not to let her worry about him. Marinette worrying was the worst. “Just… really tired.”

“After the chocolate shop,” Marinette whispered, cupping his cheek, “would you like to go back to my house and take a nap in my bed?”

That appealed to Chat on a visceral level. “Please.” On impulse, trying to show his gratitude, he turned his face and pressed a kiss to Marinette’s palm. She drew her hand back with a blush that looked so pretty, Chat yearned to kiss it off her cheeks. “I’d really like a nap.”

“And not on a balcony.”

Chat knew she was right; he hated sleeping on the balcony. He had to sleep there; she desperately needed his protection. But all she was talking about was a nap. Just a nap.

He could take a nap in her bed, right? He didn’t need to sleep on the balcony for that.

But first, she was waiting on an answer. Unable to find the words in his dry mouth, Chat shook his head, his shoulders slumping.

Marinette chuckled, and the sound set Chat’s heart to thumping. “Now you see reason, Chat Noir? You need to sleep in your own bed.”

Chat held up his clawed hands in surrender, knowing that if he argued with her, he’d never hear the end of it. “All right, all right. I get your point.”

He didn’t get her point, but he was too tired to debate the finer points of superhero protection with someone as stubborn as Marinette.

She giggled anyway, booping his nose. “I’m glad.” Then she turned and offered her arm. “Shall we?”

“Let’s,” Chat murmured, entwining their fingers together, which sent thrills spilling down his spine. He’d clearly only taken her hand because they were on a fake date, is all. That was the only reason.

Clearly.

The two lovebirds entered the shop together, and Chat was immediately greeted with the delicious, bitter aromas of chocolate. There were small “statues”--naked busts of the ancient Greeks--made of chocolate, along with realistic-looking rabbits, alligators, and ostriches with impressive plumage.

“Welcome, Chat Noir!” The clerk beamed from ear to ear. “Can I get an autograph?”

“Sure,” Chat agreed, signing some receipt tape the clerk pulled out of the printing machine. Marinette chuckled at his side, but he only had tired eyes for the clerk. “What do you recommend?”

“I like our Durango boxes.” The clerk pocketed the autograph with a nakedly grateful look. “They’re caramelized Marcona almonds coated in gianduja, a chocolate-hazelnut paste invented in Turin during Napoleon's regency.”

“Mmm.” That sounded delicious, but someone else’s opinion here mattered more than his own: Chat turned to Marinette, noticing once again how gorgeous she looked in her fitted black tee. “What do you think, dear heart?”

Marinette tapped her chin, a gesture Chat thought was cute. “Those sound good. But do you have anything caffeinated? More than chocolate usually is, I mean.”

Stunned, Chat raised his brows. She was working around him being tired? Overwhelmed with gratitude. Chat squeezed her shoulder. “Bless you for thinking of that.”

She winked at him, and Chat’s heart swelled three sizes too big. She’s adorable. I just love her so much.

Love? Chat shoved that aside; he didn’t have the head space to think about that sort of admission. He was just relieved he didn’t admit that out loud; he’d be in a heap of trouble then.

“Well.” The clerk grinned. “There’s our Terre De Café bag--pure Arabica coffee beans coated in dark chocolate.”

“I’ll take one,” Marinette said, pulling her wallet out of her pink purse. Chat had expected to pay for the chocolate, but he was so tired, he wasn’t quick enough on the draw.

Marinette drew out ten euro notes and a few coins and paid for the treat. She took the silver bag with a silver, snake-skin pattern outside the cellophane window displaying the coffee beans. Then she placed her wallet inside her purse again.

Chat watched her in a daze, only snapping out of it when she gently tugged him towards the door. Are we done? Is the fake date over?

He hoped not. With all the fibers of his being, he hoped not.

“Thank you, come again!” the clerk called behind them, and Marinette nodded back at her. “Anything for a Hero of Paris!”

Chat stepped out into the sun, blinking his bleary eyes. Hearing a hiss, he shaded his eyes with a hand--and saw a rocket coming his way.

“Marinette, watch out!” Shoving her to the ground with an alarmed, protective ferocity, Chat caught the incendiary in the chest and was flung back through the windows of Jean-Charles Rochoux. Glass shattered all around him as he crashed through the displays of chocolate statuary--and then the rocket exploded.

Chat’s ears rang. Pain ripped through him--his head, his chest, his arms. His vision swam and blackened at the edges, catching on the sunlight glittering on the broken glass scattered everywhere around him. He dimly registered Marinette screaming his name, which made his instincts to save her claw their way out of his throat in a feeble coughing from deep in his aching ribs.

But he couldn’t move. He couldn’t move!

Crushed by a weight on his chest, Chat struggled to push himself up, his arms weak and his legs made of jelly. But he was so, so tired, and the ringing in his head was just too much. If he just closed his eyes, just for a moment…

His vision went entirely black.

Chapter Text

“Chat,” Ladybug called, gently patting his cheeks. She’d defeated the Akuma with rocket hands by herself, but Chat still hadn’t woken up with the Miraculous Cure.

Terrified about his injured chest, she’d found him asleep on the floor of Jean-Charles Rochoux, surrounded by fixed display stands. As he still didn’t rouse, panic made her heart shoot up to her throat. She slapped him a little harder, shaking his shoulders.

“Is he okay?”

The chocolate shop's clerk's anxious voice invaded Ladybug's mind, demanding that she pay attention to her. Irritation twisted Ladybug's bowels; could the people of Paris not need her for one moment while she fell apart?

Her partner was in danger!

Ladybug tore her teary eyes away from Chat to focus on the clerk. It wasn't her fault that Chat was hurt, so Ladybug forcibly tamped down her desire to slap the clerk to ground out, "He’ll be fine.”

Scooping Chat up in a bridal carry, Ladybug smoothed his sweaty bangs away from his forehead and tucked his face against her chest. “Thank you for sheltering him, citizen.”

“Oh, no,” the clerk moaned, covering her mouth with her fluttering hands. “He can't die! He can’t die in my shop!”

“He won’t.” Ladybug’s words were more of a snap than she’d intended, but she had her own worry to manage and couldn’t handle anyone else’s intruding on her psyche.

Bolting from the shop without another word, Ladybug took Chat back to her own room, pumping her powerful legs across the rooftops. Once she gently laid him out on her chaise, she called off her transformation. The pink light momentarily blinded her, taking him out of her line of sight, and that made her heart constrict with fear until her vision cleared and she could see that he was safe.

“Tikki!" Marinette shrieked, her anxiety flaring. She clawed at the air, unable to breathe around her heart lodged in her throat. "What happened to him?”

Tikki tapped her chin, appearing deep in thought, which didn't put Marinette at ease. “I think Plagg has forced him into a sleep state. It’s used for self-preservation and the preservation of the Holders.”

Marinette paced around the room, keeping her eyes fixed on Chat. Her footsteps thudded against her hardwood floor, each boom a nail in his coffin. “So what do I do?”

Tikki shrugged. Her placidity annoyed Marinette; didn't the Kwami realize he'd been injured? “You let him sleep it off.”

Marinette scrubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands, which came away wet with hot tears. “How long will that take?”

“Hard to say.” Tikki flew over to him and pressed her head against his chest. “A few minutes at least to a few years at most.”

“A few years!”

Marinette thought she was panicked before. But before didn’t hold a candle to now. She stomped around her room, clawing at her hair and tugging on it. Her breaths came thick and fast, and she dropped to her knees in the middle of the room, turned away from the chaise.

Wrapping her arms around her middle, she opened her mouth in a silent scream, tears streaming freely down her cheeks and plonking onto the wooden floor. After a few minutes of dry heaving, she moaned aloud. “Chat! Chat, Chat, Chat…”

Lost in her grief, the hand closing around her shoulder caught her breath in her throat. She jerked her head up to see Chat’s concerned eyes. “Dear heart?”

Jaw dropping in shock, Marinette flung herself at him, slamming her head into his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Chat!”

Marinette was completely beside herself. She wiped her snotty nose on his collarbone, letting loose keening howls.

Chat petted her back, letting her cry herself out. “Marinette, what happened?”

“Y-You were hurt--” Marinette could barely get the words out, she was blubbering so much. Her face burned with shame; Chat must think she was so weak. “And L-Ladybug fought the Akuma and... brought us both here.”

Chat hummed thoughtfully. Marinette whipped her head up to look into his face. He seemed entirely nonchalant about being injured, as if that was in his job description and happened every day.

Anger subsumed Marintte’s rational brain. She raised her fist and began beating on Chat’s chest. “Don’t! Ever! Do that! Again!” she cried, punctuating each word with a hit.

Just as she raised her hand to strike him again, Chat caught her wrist. Keeping his fierce eyes on hers, he pressed a kiss to the sensitive skin there. Marinette sucked a breath over her teeth, stunned at how deliciously good his lips felt on her bare skin.

Marinette remembered setting their rules earlier, recalling one specifically: Wrist kisses are too personal.

Chat lifted his head and tipped it towards her wrist again, as if asking for permission. She licked her lips and nodded, overcome with an intense and insane sense of curiosity. What happens if he does it again?

Chat never looked away from her as he tugged her wrist close to his face. His soft lips brushed her delicate skin, forcing another sharp inhale past her teeth. He moved up her forearm, his warm, wet mouth trailing fire in its wake.

She felt his hot breath furling across her inner elbow and moaned.

Marinette wanted to close her eyes. She wanted to shy away from Chat’s piercing gaze. But she didn’t, feeling a keen sense of competition with Chat. If she closed her eyes, he’d win. He’d probably feel a sense of satisfaction, intimidating me. I won’t let him.

Chat’s feral eyes, however, didn’t seem like he was trying to intimidate her; on the contrary, it felt like he was trying to tell her something. His passion was frightening, and as he kissed his way up to her shoulder, still gripping her wrist, Marinette shivered.

She felt the warm pressure of an open-mouthed kiss on her shoulder, and then he pulled back, as if waiting for her to object. Marinette shook her head. “Keep going,” she demanded, her voice throaty and rough. “Please.”

Marinette had thought she was above begging. Apparently not.

Chat shifted his position, rising up on his knees and settling again. He gripped her shoulders in both hands and dragged his tongue slowly, ever so slowly, across her collarbone. Marinette hissed, her hands clutching his thighs, her fingers digging into his super suit.

Where his hot tongue had left her, Marinette felt cool air on her skin. She shivered again, feeling the juxtaposition of temperatures on her neck as Chat traveled upwards, pressing kisses to the underside of her chin and the corner of her jaw.

Finally, finally, he reached her lips. But before his mouth brushed hers, he stopped, speaking against her.

“Marinette…” Chat’s voice was just as hoarse and gravelly as hers. “Can I kiss you? Please.”

Marinette didn’t answer in words. She lunged for him, cupping his cheeks and tugging him down on top of her. Marinette kissed him frantically, devouring his mouth and taking everything he could give her.

Chat surged above her, planking with one hand as he threaded the other through her hair. He kissed her back just as desperately as she kissed him; their kisses were sloppy and disorganized, both of them pouring out their excitement for the other and what they were doing.

Her mouth moving against his was uncontrollable. It was as if twin volcanos had built up in both their chests and were letting loose in a wild, unruly series of explosions.

Yearning flooded her brain, hot desire that curled in her belly in the form of heat. All she wanted was him, him, him… Marinette was greedy for him, and he couldn't give enough of himself to please her.

Marinette wrapped her legs around his waist, jerking his hips down to hers. Her hands slipped to his shoulders and tugged, forcing his chest against hers. She craved the pressure of his body just as she craved the pressure of his lips. Arching her back, she molded her body to his.

Chat groaned aloud in her mouth and the noise was so deliciously indecent, Marinette felt her face flush. She sucked on his lower lip, feeling the silken skin next to his gums. Closing her teeth around his lip, she bit down, causing him to hiss against her.

Marinette touched his tongue with hers, tangling their wet muscles together. He licked her teeth and gums, plundering her mouth. Every time they separated for breath with a soft smack, they couldn't get back to each other fast enough.

Marinette's heart pounded in her mouth, and she wondered if Chat could feel it. He tasted amazing: sugar and coffee chased by his minty toothpaste, which is what Marinette had tasted on his breath last time she'd been so close to him. She breathed in his breaths, taking a part of him into her lungs.

Chat's clawed fingers skated down her ribs, accidentally getting caught in her T-shirt and popping a hole in the fabric. The ripping sound just drove her to kiss him harder; never before had Marinette heard so sexy a noise. So enthralled with Chat's mouth slamming against hers, Marinette couldn't even spare a thought to how she'd fix the tear.

As Chat's hands tightly seized her hips, Marinette gasped into his mouth. Her own hands fisted in his hair, tugging and pulling and making him growl into her mouth.

Then Chat did something she did not expect: he stroked her cheeks and slowed the tempo of their kissing. Marinette chased him down and tried to resume their frenetic clip, but Chat would have none of it. He forced her to take her time and enjoy the almost-hedonistic pace he set.

When she realized he wasn't going back to the way they'd kissed before, Marinette gave into the new, just-as-thrilling way. He placed his hands on her head, cupping her cheeks with his palms and brushing her temples with his long fingers, and explored her mouth at his leisure.

Warm desire pooled in Marinette’s belly. She sighed against Chat’s lips. Her hands on his hair gentled, petting him in the way she assumed he liked to be petted. Purrs rose up in his chest, vibrating hers. She slanted her mouth against his, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Just when she was beginning to run out of breath, he pulled back, also panting.

“That,” he whispered, staring deeply into her eyes and thrilling her, “was super hot.”

“Now what do we do?” Marinette whispered back, abruptly horrified by the implications of what they'd just done. Why had she kissed Chat? Was she in love with him?

No. She couldn't be. He was Chat! She stammered against him, feeling his heart pounding against her chest. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Chat gave her a sad kind of look and sat up, guiding her into a sitting position as well. “Do you regret what happened?”

Marinette bit a hole into her lip, considering that. Did she regret kissing him? No. It was fun, and like Chat had said, super hot.

“No. But… But Chat, we’re fake dating. Remember our rules? We’re not supposed to fall in real love.”

Chat’s eyes widened comically large, setting a tone Marinette thought was inappropriate for his next stunned words. “You love me?”

“I didn’t say that,” Marinette insisted, the words out of her mouth before she could stop herself. She extricated her hands from his loose grip before she really did fall in love with him.

Chat furrowed his brow. He sighed, cradling his head in his hand. “Okay. Okay. We’ll… We’ll figure something out.”

Marinette reached out for him but then pulled back. She didn’t want to give him mixed signals. A smile came to her lips unbidden as she remembered their plans from earlier. “Weren’t you going to take a nap in my bed?”

Chat snorted, scrubbing his clawed hand over his face. “As if I could take a nap after that.”

She didn’t know what that he was referring to, exactly: the Akuma, his sleep state, her anger with him, or the make out session--or all of the above. Marinette herself was keyed up, her arms covered in goosebumps and her belly twisting. She wrung her hands. I can’t fall in love with Chat. I can’t. She watched him, noticing how lost he looked. Not even if he loves me back.

“I think you should at least try to sleep,” Marinette said, wanting to touch him but at the same time not wanting to touch him. “You were pretty knocked out after the Akuma. You scared me, and Ladybug, too.”

Chat glanced up, his eyes filled with so much hope it hurt. “Ladybug was worried about me?”

Ah, Marinette thought, her heart dropping through her stomach. Of course he doesn’t love me. He loves Ladybug. Of course.

Marinette nodded, stuffing the twisting knots in her gut, like ropes wrapping around her neck to strangle her. “She was.”

Chat hung his head. “Okay. I’ll take a nap. Heaven knows I could use the sleep.”

Marinette stood with him, carefully not touching him. He trudged over to the stairs next to her bed and climbed them, gripping the railing. Just as he reached the top, he turned his head to her. “I don’t suppose… you need a nap, too?”

Marinette started. If he was offering what she thought he was offering, that would be absurd… but she had to clarify. “You mean sleep with you?”

Chat nodded, gripping his elbow. “I… don’t want to be alone.”

Her kitty felt alone? Tears struck Marinette's eyes so violently, she hiccuped. She didn't want to appear weak to Chat, so she stuffed the urge to sob and throw herself into his arms.

"Oh,” she whispered instead. “I suppose we could take a nap together.”

Chat’s shoulders slumped and the relieved look in his green eyes tore a gasp from her throat.

“Thank you, Marinette.” He crawled into the bed, leaving one arm open for her. Marinette’s heart pounded in her mouth. Her fingers flexed nervously on the railing as she climbed the stairs up to her bed. She wrung her hands at the top.

Why am I feeling so anxious? It’s just Chat. As she gazed down at him, seeing the tense way he stretched out upon the mattress, she squared her shoulders. It was as if he were waiting for her to protest the nap. She wasn’t going to do that. I trust him.

Marinette curled up next to him, scooting as close as she could. He wrapped an arm around her, splaying his clawed fingers on her waist. She fit perfectly in his grip. Marinette had never been more comfortable. She scooted even closer to him, placing her head on his shoulder, and felt him chuckle through her back.

The position wasn’t just good, it was right, as if she’d been incomplete until this moment. As she laid in Chat’s arms, Marinette realized something.

Chat wasn’t helpless, far from it, but he could use someone to come home to. Someone to cradle his head in her lap and smooth his bangs away from his face. Someone to bring him coffee in the morning, remind him to eat, and take naps with him.

Someone to help him not feel so alone.

Clearly, her kitty needed someone to take care of him.

She decided she could be that person.

Oh, she thought, feeling his legs and arms twitch against her as he succumbed to sleep. Oh, no.

I really am in love with him.

Chapter Text

Fresh from the shower in his bedroom, Adrien slipped on a clean pair of jeans. He stretched his shoulders, which no longer seized, much to his relief. Ever since he’d stopped sleeping on the balcony and started taking up residence in Marinette’s bed, he’d never felt better.

He’d seen Ladybug the night before, briefly, for patrol. Chat had arrived and told her that they should get this over with; he needed to get back to protecting Marinette. When Ladybug had frowned, he’d cupped her cheek and given her a kiss to her forehead.

Then Ladybug had said something he had not expected. “Chat… Do you know where your heart lies?”

She wouldn’t open up no matter how much he pestered her after that, eventually throwing her yo-yo off the roof and bugging out to start the patrol. She hadn’t stuck around to be questioned afterwards, either.

“Do you know where your heart lies?” Adrien repeated, standing next to his window and staring longingly at the bakery across the way. “What’s that even supposed to mean?”

Plagg hovered up to Adrien’s shoulder, cheese on his breath that forced Adrien to wrinkle his nose. “Adrien.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re so screwed.”

With an explosive sigh, Adrien rested his arm on the window pane and his head on his wrist. His head ached, and not just from the tears threatening to burn holes in the corners of his eyes. “I know, Plagg. What do I do? I… I love Ladybug. But Marinette has carved out a space in the corner of my heart, too, without my knowledge or permission.”

Plagg barked out a laugh that Adrien didn’t think was derisive, but he never knew with Plagg. “You don’t give permission to someone to fall in love with them. This is all on you, kid. It’s not her fault you have a crush.”

“Rude.” Amused by Plagg’s laying things out in no uncertain terms, Adrien flashed a grin at his Kwami. Turning around on the window, Adrien leaned his head against the glass, feeling the sturdy coolness of it under his hair. “You know what would be great?”

Plagg looked bored, which was to be expected, Adrien guessed. “What?”

“If Ladybug and Marinette were the same person.”

Plagg forced out a laugh. “Yeah. That would be spectacular.”

That’s a weird reaction. Adrien raised his head, peering at the tiny mini-god as if he could unlock the secrets of the universe–which he probably could, Adrien figured. “Plagg, do you know who Ladybug is?”

Plagg huffed, his nasally voice threaded through with annoyance. “Of course I do.”

Adrien turned to his Kwami, facing him head on. Adrien was onto something, he could feel it burning in his heart. “Plagg. Please be honest with me.”

Plagg snorted. “When am I not?”

“Gee, when you ran away to Nooroo’s birthday party without telling me?” As Plagg ducked his head, Adrien folded his arms. He didn’t mean to make the Kwami feel bad, but Adrien wanted his answers. As Adrien thought more and more about Ladybug’s identity, pain struck him behind his right eye. Clearly he was close. “I’ve forgiven you for that. But please… Please answer my question.”

“And what question is that?”

“Is Ladybug Marinette?”

“I can’t tell you who Ladybug is.” Plagg appeared shifty, his eyes darting back and forth, but Adrien’s heart still plummeted through his feet. “Look. Ladybug is--” The Kwami burped up green bubbles and then scowled. “Oh, that’s nasty. Always gives me a stomach ache that only more cheese can solve.”

Plagg started flying off, but Adrien jumped up and caught him in both hands. Adrien glared down at the little Kwami, his headache making him irritable. “You don’t have to tell me her name, Plagg.” Adrien set his jaw, insistent. “Just tell me, yes or no: is Ladybug Marinette?”

Plagg turned his head away, sticking his nose up in the air. “You know I can’t.”

An idea occurred to Adrien, one that horrified him. He stared down at Plagg with wide eyes. “Could I order you to do it?”

Plagg’s words were soft and gentle, shocking the boy. “You could. But would you?”

Adrien lowered his eyes and shook his head, causing more aches to bloom in his forehead. Releasing Plagg, who harrumphed, Adrien sank down to the floor and rested his head on his knees. “What do I do, Plagg? I’m in love with two girls.”

Plagg floated down and nestled in Adrien’s hair. “Listen, kid,” the Kwami said, patting his charge. “I can neither confirm nor deny that Ladybug is Marinette. But I can tell you this: they’re very similar, aren’t they?”

Adrien raised his head so quickly, Plagg squawked and rolled off. “Oh, sorry, Plagg.” Kneeling on the floor, Adrien scooped up the Kwami in both hands. “You can’t tell me who she is. But you can tell me that she’s similar to Marinette?”

Plagg nodded. He flew up and knocked Adrien on the head, which still pounded with a headache. “Time to use that brain cell, kiddo.”

“Plagg,” Adrien whispered, awed that his normally reticent Kwami was giving him so much. “They’re very similar, aren’t they? So similar, they could, maybe, be the same?”

“Ladybug is--” Plagg burped up more bubbles. “That’s all I can tell you.”

As Adrien tried to picture Marinette in Ladybug’s suit, pain slammed into the front of his head with a vengeance. “They have the same build. The same voice. The same pigtails.”

Despite the throbbing in his brain making him want to break down in tears, Adrien smiled. “And both their breaths taste like raspberry and cream.”

“You’re getting a clearer picture now, aren’t you, kid?” Plagg grinned up at him, his toothy smile all the proof Adrien needed.

The quantum masking fell away, as did the headache. Adrien sighed, relieved, and rubbed his forehead. “Marinette is Ladybug! Plagg! Ladybug is Marinette!”

“No wonder you fell in love with her, eh?” Plagg’s tone was entirely too smug for Adrien’s tastes, but he didn’t fault the Kwami for that. “Thank goodness you figured it out. I am soooo sick of putting up with identity shenanigans.”

“What do I do now?”

“What do you mean, what do you do now?” Plagg snorted, sounding completely put out. “You tell her her identity is compromised, of course!”

Adrien ducked, rubbing the back of his head. Plagg was right; Adrien couldn’t keep this a secret from her. It was too big. “Oh, right. Of course.”

Plagg fixed a beady-eyed look on his charge, one that made Adrien’s skin crawl. “You were going to tell her that, right?”

“Yes, Plagg.” Adrien frowned down at his Kwami, irritated that Plagg would question him like that. “What kind of boy do you take me for?”

“Not a smart one.”

“Haha, very funny.” Adrien couldn’t help but smile. He knew who his lady was! And he loved both sides of her! “I was planning to take her somewhere tonight. I’ll do it then.”

“Good for you, kid.” Plagg rolled his eyes, his words sounding thoroughly disgusted. “Just don’t make out in the suit again. I can feel everything and it’s gross.”

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck again, heat flooding his cheeks at the memory of Marinette’s lips crushed to his. He’d done a lot of reminiscing about their kissing, even though it had only happened the day before. “Oh, sorry, Plagg.”

Plagg harrumphed. “Just feed me more cheese and we’ll call it good.”

Adrien beamed, grateful that his Kwami was so understanding. “Will do, Plagg. Will do.”

Chapter Text

Chat didn’t have to carry her very far tonight, Marinette thought as he set her down on the concrete steps of collège Françoise Dupont. The moon was nearly full, and Chat’s bright, white teeth shone in the light.

“The school?” she asked, squinting at him suspiciously. “Why are we at the school at eleven pm on a Saturday?”

Chat winked at her. “You’ll see.” He unzipped his pocket and pulled out a ring of keys. “Benefits of being a superhero. I get the keys to the city.”

Ladybug didn’t get the keys to the city. Marinette narrowed her eyes at Chat. When she spoke, her voice was flatter than the Oklahoma salt plains. “You stole them, didn’t you.”

“Stole is such a harsh word.” Chat shook the keys, making them jingle. “I prefer ‘lifted.’”

“I can’t believe you!” Marinette placed her hands on her hips, completely put out that Chat would admit to petty theft. “And you call yourself a superhero?”

Chat sniffed delicately. “Hmph! I didn’t have to open the school for you tonight. Clearly you underestimate my commitment to this fake relationship.”

Marinette’s cheeks blazed with embarrassment. “Clearly I do.”

Chat pocketed the keys and held the door open for her. “Ladies first.”

“Let’s get in, do what you wanted to do, and then get out,” Marinette demanded, glaring at him as she passed through the doorway. He followed, shutting the door behind him. “I can’t believe I’m participating in breaking and entering.”

“It’s not breaking and entering.” Chat patted his pocket. “I have a key.”

Marinette turned to him, wrinkling her nose. How irritating! “Petty theft, then.”

“Nothing I do is petty.”

Marinette grinned despite herself; Chat wastotally petty. “Wanna take a bet on that?”

Chat huffed. “A bet would be petty.”

Marinette strode through the dimly-lit hall but then quickly realized that she had no idea where she was going. She stopped walking before she tripped over her own feet. “Again, what are we doing here?”

Chat offered her his hand, and she took it, glad to rely on his night vision in the dark hall. “Be patient, be patient, don’t be in such a hurry,” he sang, reaching up to boop her nose. “Really, Marinette, don’t worry. Would I steer you wrong?”

“Says the cat who stole keys to a school.” She reached for his pocket, but he danced out of the way, still holding her hand. “What other keys do you have on that ring?”

Chat shrugged, the movement nearly lost to the darkness in Marinette’s vision. His lower body looked like a smudge of tar against a shadowy background but his shoulders and chest were limned in moonlight.

Beautiful, Marinette thought. He’s beautiful.

“It’s not relevant to tonight’s fake date, so…”

Marinette didn’t know what to say to that. She wanted to be on a fake date with him, and--if she were being truly honest--she wanted the date to be real.

While she was dithering, Chat stepped in front of her, starting to lead her--presumably--towards one of the classrooms. He seemed content to meander, guiding her down the halls with a few twists and turns, until Marinette was practically lost.

Their old school looked so incredibly different at night. It was a bit cold and creepy, Marinette had to admit. She shivered, and Chat glanced back at her. “You okay?” he said, cocking his head to the side.

“Yeah, just cold.” Marinette felt his thumb rub on the back of her hand and smiled a little.

“You don’t have to be cold for too much longer.” Chat stopped in front of a classroom and opened the door. “We’re here.”

Marinette peered inside. There were instruments of every stripe; trumpets and trombones and a drum set rested in one dark corner of the classroom. A grand piano covered in a sheet stood in the middle of the room, flanked by large windows with gossamer curtains. “A music room?”

Chat nodded and released her hand. He crossed to the piano and removed the sheet from the keys, settling on the bench. Marinette followed him, knowing not to lean on the piano’s body even though it could probably support her weight.

As he spread his fingers across the keys, not quite touching them yet, Marinette’s jaw dropped. “I didn’t know you played the piano.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” Rolling his neck, Chat drew a deep breath through his nose and began to play.

The music that erupted from his long, delicate fingers startled Marinette. She didn’t know much about classical music, but the piece seemed to require a high amount of technical skill.

His fingers flew across the keys, speeding up the song in the middle where it crescendoed. The song was very much like him: dramatic, bombastic, beautiful--and with a deeper meaning that she couldn’t possibly hope to guess.

Chat closed his eyes, swaying in his seat. The work repeated the melody three times, with different tempos and harder and softer keypresses creating louder and quieter sounds.

Marinette was bewitched with the music, her vision glimmering as the song paused dramatically in the middle and started again. The quiet, trailing end reminded Marinette of two lovers resting back on some grass, completely sated with each other.

Chat rested his hands in his lap and opened his eyes, glancing up. Marinette applauded; such a display demanded a response from her, one she was glad to give. “That was gorgeous.” She beamed at him. “What’s the song called?”

“Liebesträume no. 3, by Franz Liszt.” Chat lifted his hands to the keys again and started the song over, playing more quietly. “There’s three songs, based on a series of poems, with the third being the most popular.”

Then he recited in perfect German, “‘O lieb, so lang du lieben kannst.’”

“What does that mean?”

His gorgeous, green gaze glowed up at her with so much adoration, it made her knees weak. “‘O, dear, as long as you can, love.’”

Marinette bit back a gasp, her hands trembling. Chat had played her something like that? Why? “This is a love song?”

Chat didn’t answer in words, merely continued the song. He watched his hands, seeming to deliberate over something, and then murmured, “I know who you are.”

“What?” Marinette responded, furrowing her brow in confusion. “Who I am?”

Chat’s words were louder than a whisper, but they were still almost drowned out by the music. “I know who you are, Marinette.” He met her gaze, his eyes seeming torn between turbulence and gentleness.

“I know who you are,” he repeated for a third time, “my Lady.”

Marinette staggered, catching herself on the piano. Being slammed under her fingers, the keys let loose a discordant noise, nothing like Chat’s gorgeous playing. Chat steadied her by her elbows, guiding her to sit down next to him on the bench. “No! How?”

“How I found out doesn’t matter.” Chat rubbed her back, trying to soothe her but making her skin crawl instead. “What’s important is that I know now.”

And I just confirmed it to you. Marinette didn’t know why she didn’t have the presence of mind to lie. She should have been collected enough to tell him something--anything!--else. But she was shaking, her heart pounding in her palate, and she didn’t have the ability to explain to him his conclusion wasn’t the truth.

“I’m not Ladybug,” was all she could say. She stared at her feet, unwilling to look him in the eyes while she lied to him again and again and again.. “You must be mistaken.”

“No, my Lady,” Chat murmured, gently grasping her chin and guiding her gaze to his. He pressed kisses to her eyelids, forcing her to close and open her eyes. “Ladybug is Marinette. Marinette is Ladybug.” He brushed his lips against the corner of her mouth, speaking against her and secretly thrilling her with the warmth of his breath. “And I wanted her to be you. I wanted her to be you so badly.”

Was his knowing so awful? She trusted Chat in the suit; she wondered if she trusted him out of it, too. Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck and sighed. “What do we do now?”

“I… I can tell you who I am, if you like.”

Marinette didn’t jerk away like she wanted to. She pulled back, peering into his beseeching eyes. He cupped her cheeks, leaning forward as if he were about to kiss her again, his face open and vulnerable.

A question was once again posed to Marinette: would knowing who he was be so bad? She didn’t know. If either of them were to be Akumatized, then they could reveal each other.

But she trusted Chat. He’d proven he could protect her whether she was a civilian or a superhero. He’d slept on her balcony to save her parents. He was whip smart, loyal to a fault, and compassionate.

And he loved her.

“Who are you?” Her words rasped over her throat like a wire brush. She gripped his wrists in a desperate, clinging gesture. “Please, tell me, I must know.”

“Claws in.”

The green detransformation light washed over him, blinding her. She jammed her eyes shut and opened them again, blinking away the bright spots. When her vision cleared, she saw someone who made her heart do a flip in her chest.

Her partner was Adrien Agreste.

“Adrien.” Marinette’s breath hitched, getting caught in her throat. Plagg phased through the wall, so Marinette put him out of her mind. As she combed her hands through Adrien’s hair, making him purr, tears blurred her sight. “Is it really you?”

“It’s really me.”

Marinette was quietly ecstatic. But then she realized something that horrified her. “Adrien, y-you watched me scratch my butt?"

Adrien’s cheeks flared with color she could barely see in the moonlight. "Er. Uh.” He licked his lips. “In my defense, your butt is very nice?"

Marinette covered her face, her cheeks so hot, she thought she might burn her hands. “This is terrible.”

Adrien smiled at her so softly, her heart began to rattle around in her ribcage. “I thought it was endearing.” He tucked some flyaway strands of hair behind her ear and she leaned into the touch. “Everyone scratches their butt, my Lady. It makes you human.”

“Not that.” Marinette’s stomach bottomed out; she held her middle as if she could hold herself together. “We need to break up.”

Adrien’s jaw dropped. He furrowed his brow in confusion–and, Marinette wondered, with no small amount of irritation? “When we just found each other?”

“It’s too dangerous for Marinette to date Chat.” She reached up and trailed the backs of her knuckles across his cheek, trying to show him that she truly did care. “Hawkmoth has proven that.”

“That’s true.” Adrien sighed. “And Adrien and Ladybug can’t date either for the same reasons.”

Marinette sucked a breath over her teeth, terrified at the very thought of Adrien being in Hawkmoth’s crosshairs. “I wouldn’t be able to handle it if Hawkmoth came after you.”

Adrien dragged his eyes to her, his expression taking on a hard, fierce cast that almost made her shy away. “Just like I can’t stand it when he attacks you?”

Marinette dropped her gaze, unwilling to face that determination. “Yeah. So how do we break up?”

Adrien tapped his chin. “I think I have an idea.”

Chapter Text

“Okay,” Chat whispered to Marinette, eyeing the sparse crowd of tourists around them. The waters of the Canal Saint-Martin--one street away from the Pink Flamingo, the site of their first public date--lapped quietly against the concrete in the cool, Sunday breeze. “Are you ready for this?”

Marinette flashed him a thumbs up. He knew she wouldn’t touch him even as much as he wanted her to in order to complete the illusion that they were breaking up. Chat psyched himself up with a deep breath. “Okay.”

Giving him a nod, Marinette shoved him away from her, pushing against his chest and fixing him in a hard glare. “Oh, yeah? Well, I hate the obnoxious way you eat! You’re always shoving food into your mouth as if you’re never going to eat again!”

Ouch, Chat thought, wincing. I didn’t expect her to go for the throat right out of the gate.

“Yeah?” Chat allowed himself to snarl. “Well, you’re always assuming the worst about me! You suffer from black and white thinking. No one’s totally good or totally evil, Marinette!”

The tourists perked up, starting to point and take pictures of the quarreling couple. It’s working, Chat thought, pretending to set his jaw. He and Marinette had staged this fight to publicly break up and demonstrate to all and sundry that their fake relationship was over.

Chat hoped that they’d be able to start a real relationship soon, though he still wasn’t sure what Marinette thought of him. He knew what he thought of her--he loved her, wholeheartedly--and he hoped she also knew.

But for now, they had a fight to complete.

Marinette paced in front of him, her fists clenched. She stepped into his space and poked him in the chest, hard, which ached in more ways than one. “And you are the textbook example of overcompensation.”

Chat drew a deep breath. He knew that was one of his weaknesses, so it would make sense that she’d latch on to that, but it still hurt. “And you struggle with self-confidence! Do you have any idea how bothersome it is to have to deal with someone who stumbles over her words, Ma-Ma-Marinette?”

Marinette growled at him, sounding so real he almost stepped back. “Your bark is worse than your bite,” she snapped, “and you have terrible comedic timing.”

Is this from Marinette or Ladybug? Chat wondered, furrowing his brow. Either one of them thinking that way about him was terrible, so he tried to put it out of his mind and reconcile the two people he knew into the girl standing in front of him.

“And I hate the way you take so many risks to protect your image.” Chat leaned forward into her face, his lip curled back in a fake sneer. “You’re arrogant, Marinette.”

“Arrogant!” Marinette’s nostrils flared. “You pretentious, attention-seeking, overly-dramatic windbag!”

“Oh, yeah?” Chat bit a hole in his lip, tasting the coppery tang of blood as it flooded his mouth. These insults were things he’d worried about himself, and she’d called him out. His cheeks burned with embarrassment and no small amount of shame. “You’re an impulsive, jealous, stubborn ball-buster who’s quick to panic!”

Marinette gasped, placing a hand over her heart. The tourists began crowding them, leaving just enough space for them to push each other around. “Jealous? How dare you?”

“You even snapped at Lila.” Chat took no pleasure in reminding Marinette of that fact, despite keeping up the appearance of being angry with her. “When she pretended you were her best friend.”

Marinette’s voice was low and gravelly. Her cheeks were quickly reddening. “Well, I hate how distracted you are. You’re irresponsible, Chat Noir.”

Jeers went up from the crowd. One woman cupped her hands around her mouth and cried, “Go get him!”

Chat’s breath hitched. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes. Is this real? Does she really hate all those things about me? “I hate how you follow your head rather than your heart.” He was shaking, his whole body vibrating with repressed emotion. “I hate how you don’t treat me like an equal partner.”

Marinette’s jaw dropped. Her hands fluttered in front of her red face. “I hate how clingy you are.” She reached out and touched his shoulder, her fingers nervously flexing against him. “I… I hate that I love being held by you.”

She turned her hand, and Chat leaned his face into her palm, peeking at her from the corners of his eyes. “I hate how well you understand me.”

Marinette sniffled. “I hate how you care so deeply, it hurts.”

Chat was well and truly crying now, the tears streaming freely down his hot face. His nose was blocked with snot. “I hate how you take advice from others and learn from your mistakes.”

Marinette cupped his cheeks in both hands, staring deeply into his teary eyes. “I hate that you’re willing to die for what you love.” She let loose a choked sob, giving him an open-mouthed grimace. “I hate that you love so very much.”

Chat couldn’t say anymore. He pulled her into his arms, burying his face in the crook of her neck and breathing her in. She clung to him, threading her hand through his hair and cradling the back of his head. Her other hand gripped his shoulder, tugging him closer to her.

The gathered crowd began murmuring, snapping photos. Chat soaked her shirt with his tears until she bent her head, placing her lips to his ear. “Get us out of here, Kitty,” she whispered to him and him alone. “Before I kiss you senseless in public and ruin this fight.”

Chat dragged one hand away from her and grasped his baton, shooting them both into the air. The Parisians below scattered while the tourists kept taking pictures. Carrying Marinette, Chat bounded somewhere--anywhere--away. Away from that hurtful place, away from those angry words and their own flushed faces.

Once his blurry vision cleared, he found himself in the 7th arrondissement, climbing the Eiffel Tower. Once they reached the maintenance platform at the top, Chat set Marinette down.

She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, he blurted out, “I’m sorry.”

He turned away from her, tugging on his hair. Pacing back and forth gave him something to do, a way to expend the pent up hurt and frustration. “I’m sorry I was cruel. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I--I’m just sorry, Marinette.”

Chat swallowed hard, unwilling to face her injured expression. He kept his head down. “I never should have suggested a fight between us. That was too real.”

Marinette laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, startling him. He glanced over his shoulder and a gasp was ripped from his lips when he saw love shining in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, too, Kitty,” she whispered, standing up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheekbone right where his mask covered his face. Chat offered her a slow blink, a kitten kiss. “I didn’t have to go as hard as I did.”

Chat offered her a watery smile, his lip quivering. “Do you really hate the obnoxious way I eat?”

Marinette flushed, her gaze darting away from him. “I… used to.” When she wouldn’t look at him, Chat’s heart sank. “Then I realized there must be some sort of reason you do that, and I felt sad instead.”

Chat drew a deep breath. He couldn’t hold that against her; the way he ate really was obnoxious.

She turned her eyes to him, and Chat ached to see the pain there. “Do you really find my stuttering bothersome?”

“No, not at all.” Chat held up his hands. “I thought it was cute, but I also thought you didn’t like me.”

“Didn’t like you?” Marinette exclaimed, placing her hands on his chest. “Adrien, I stuttered because I... I had a crush on you.”

“Oh,” Chat said, feeling warm from his chest up. Some of the knots there began to untangle. “Right.”

He knew that. He’d just… been so wrapped up in what Marinette thought of Chat that he’d forgotten what she thought of Adrien.

Had? his traitorous mind spoke up. She had a crush on me? Meaning she doesn’t like me now?

Chat sniffled, feeling as raw as an exposed nerve sliced down the middle. “Do you really think I’m distracted and irresponsible?”

“Irresponsible, no. Not anymore. Not now that I know you.” Marinette stared at her feet. “But sometimes you can be distractible.” She glanced up with a small smile on her face. “And a good distraction.”

The knots were back in full force. Chat rubbed his breastbone. Which means she thought I was irresponsible at one point. Ouch.

Then Marinette asked the question he didn’t want to hear, her eyes shining with pain. “Arrogant?”

Chat flinched, knowing he’d hurt her just as much as she’d hurt him. “You… can be. Goes with the black-and-white thinking.”

Marinette sighed, her tensely-held shoulders slumping. Chat wondered if he should give her a backrub when this was all over, but he didn’t want to touch her yet. “That’s fair. Your turn.”

“Am I pretentious?” Tears welled in Chat’s eyes unbidden. He dashed them away with the back of his wrist. He wasn’t angry anymore; no, he was just sad, and the tears he didn’t want to show proved that.

“I mean…” he continued, his voice cracking into a higher octave. He waved his hands. “I know I’m attention-seeking and overly-dramatic, and my comedic timing could use some work, and I’m definitely overcompensating, and saying I need validation is like saying water is wet--”

“Chat.” Marinette’s cool fingers alighted on his cheek. Her hands were always cold, and given how hot he ran, they felt wonderful entwined with his.

But he shouldn’t be thinking of that. They were breaking up for her safety. Marinette wasn’t his and would never be his.

“Listen to me,” Marinette insisted, dragging his teary gaze down to her fierce one. “You are a wonderful person, one I am proud to call my friend. I’m sorry we pretended to fight, and I’m sorry it felt real to you.”

She licked her lips, drawing his attention to them with how wet and inviting they are. “You overcompensate. And you are overly-dramatic, and yeah, a little pretentious.”

Chat bit his lip. Marinette leaned forward to whisper her next words directly in his ear. “But I wouldn’t trade you for the world. I love you, Chat Collins Noir.”

Chat gasped. The tears he’d been trying so hard not to shed rolled down his cheeks onto her fingers. She loves me? He couldn’t believe he was so lucky. She loves me!

He placed his hands on her shoulders, pulling her back so he could look her in the eyes. Marinette had her lips pressed together in a thin line; she still looked angry, and that made his stomach flip. But… Does she mean as a friend? Or… something more?

“I love you, too.” The words were out of Chat’s mouth before he could stop himself. They were the words he wanted to say, but they were just words, four little words that he felt didn’t encapsulate all he wanted to tell her.

He had to show her his love.

He just prayed that she would let him.

Marinette’s lips quirked. Chat couldn’t tell if she was happy or sad. She cupped his cheeks, and his clawed hands came up to grasp her wrists. “I know.”

But did she really? He knew he hadn’t done a very good job of showing her. All he’d done was sleep on her balcony, and anyone would have done the same.

Marinette used to have a crush on me. Chat’s fingers flexed nervously on Marinette’s wrists. The thought gave him a hope he dared not name. Then he squelched it. Key words being ‘used to.’

But… if she used to have a crush on him, Chat reasoned, she probably could again.

Marinette released him, and Chat’s fingers lingered on hers as she trailed away. “So,” she murmured, tilting her head at him. “Should you do an interview with Alya saying it’s over?”

It’s over.

Chat’s heart sank like a stone into his belly. “Yeah. Yeah. That’s a good idea.”

Chat wiped his nose on the back of his wrist before he started crying again. It’s over. It’s over. It’s over. The thoughts beat like a drum in his head, loud and relentless.

He shouldn’t have been surprised. They’d been fake dating, after all, and that couldn’t last forever, especially with Marinette and her family being threatened by Hawkmoth. But why did the breakup of their fake relationship hurt just as bad as a real one?

Marinette furrowed her brow at him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Chat lied, offering her a tremulous smile and a thumbs up. She was still pinning him with that skeptical look; he felt very much like a bug being pierced through with a collector’s needle. “I’ll be okay.”

Marinette sighed and squeezed his shoulder. "That makes one of us."

Chat started. "You're not okay?"

Marinette shook her head, and Chat was alarmed to see tears welling in her eyes. He wrapped himself around her, even his tail. She trembled against him, and Chat kicked himself for not noticing that she, too, had been affected by their fight.

"We're falling apart," he whispered, carding his fingers through her hair.

Marinette sniffled against his collarbone. "Isn't that what a breakup is for?"

"Yeah, but--"

"Look." Marinette pulled back to look him in the eyes. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and Chat caught them on his clawed fingers."This had to happen. We were going to have to break up eventually."

“But…” Chat gave her a pained grimace and hung his head. “Neither of us wants this.”

“No.” Marinette brushed his wild mane out of his eyes. “But it had to happen, you know? Hawkmoth is too much of a threat.”

Chat offered her a crooked smile, knowing the answer to their predicament. “Then the solution is easy: take out Hawkmoth.”

Marinette snorted and pushed away from Chat, wrapping her arms around herself in a protective, hugging gesture. “I don’t know that that will be easy, Chat.”

Chat looped his arms around her from behind, crossing them over her and holding onto her elbows. He wanted her to hear his point, no matter what he had to do to get her to listen. “But it is the solution, isn’t it? We can’t be together with him in the picture.”

When Marinette didn’t say anything, Chat pressed a kiss to her temple. “So how do we do it?” he asked. “How do we find him?”

“I’m tired, Chat.” To his alarm, Marinette sounded utterly spent and completely defeated. He gasped, stunned. She leaned her head on his shoulder, pressing her cheek against his. “Take me home.”

“All right.” Chat sighed, scooping her legs up into his hold. “But this conversation isn’t over.”

“It is for now.” Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck to better stabilize herself. “Chat, I’m… I’m so tired. It’s been a long day, okay? We can regroup and talk about this tomorrow.”

Chat didn’t want to push. But he had to test the waters. As he leapt off the Tower and started back towards the bakery, he asked, “Am I still invited into your bed?” He swallowed hard. “Because I can sleep on the balcony again...”

“No, Kitty.” Marinette frowned, and Chat’s heart sank. “You don’t have to sleep on the balcony anymore. Or in my bed.”

Chat sniffled. He rather liked sleeping in Marinette’s bed; she was warm, soft, and comfortable, and, curled around her, he slept the best he ever had in his life. “Okay.”

“But before you go home, you have a job to do.”

“Go give Alya an interview, got it.” Chat launched himself off a roof, bounding across Paris. The wind blew his hair back from his face as he pumped his powerful legs. “Do you think she’s asleep by now?”

“Are you kidding?” Marinette beamed, setting Chat’s heart to pounding. He was so in love with this girl; he didn’t know what he would do if they couldn’t be together. He had to defeat Hawkmoth. He must.. “Alya never sleeps.”

Chat sighed. “Plus she probably has footage of the fight already.”

“Yep.” Marinette rested her head on his collarbone. The weight of her skull felt nice; he was going to miss this. Miss them. “So go pay her a visit, won’t you, Kitty?”

“I won’t let you down, Marinette.”

Marinette patted his cheek. “That’s my boy.”

If only, Chat thought, as he left her at the bakery and flung himself into the night. If only I was yours!

Chapter Text

Alya was inside her room, poring over Ladyblog footage at her desk, her shoulders hunched around her ears and a pen in between her lips. Crouched outside on her windowsill, Chat tapped on the glass with a clawed finger. She jumped at Chat’s noise, much to his amusement but not his surprise.

“Chat!” Alya opened the window and gestured him inside. “Come in, come in! Want an interview?”

“That’s why I’m here, yeah.” Chat crawled inside and stood awkwardly, his boot touching one of Alya’s stuffed foxes. “Do you have the time to--”

“I always have time for one of the Heroes of Paris!” Alya whipped her phone out of her jeans pocket, turning on the flash, which made Chat blink.

She turned the phone to herself and beamed. “Okay, we’re live in three, two, one! Hey, Paris! Ladyblogger Alya Cesaire here! I have here with me none other than the Parisian heartthrob, Chat Noir!”

Alya turned the camera to Chat, and he waved as she continued speaking. “He’s come to tell me something important that just couldn’t wait until tomorrow! Say hello to Paris, Chat!”

Chat offered the camera his model smile, the fake one Marinette hated so much. “Hello, Paris.”

“How’s your girlfriend?” Alya asked, making Chat wince. “Inquiring minds want to know.”

“Actually,” Chat began, drawing a deep breath through his nose to steady his nerves, “that’s what I’m here for. I wanted to let you--and the rest of the city of lights--know that we broke up.”

Alya’s jaw dropped. She flipped the phone back to herself. “Did you hear that, Paris? Chat Noir is single!”

Chat gave a weak chuckle, trying not to show how painful Alya’s words really were. “Single, yes, but not on the market for a while yet.”

Alya started filming him again, making him straighten his shoulders instinctively; he couldn’t have bad posture on camera. “So what happened? At the risk of sounding insensitive, I heard there was a fight between you this evening.”

The news moves fast, Chat thought, amazed at Alya’s ability to sniff out a new scoop. He bit a hole in his lip, tasting the coppery tang of blood. Chat didn’t want to admit that he and Marientte had fought. The reminder of the fight between them opened up a pit in his stomach.

“Yeah, we… We had some irreconcilable differences between us.” Chat knew his words sounded wooden and forced. But he couldn’t act happy about the break up. He couldn’t even act neutral.

Alya offered him a pained grimace. Her next words were gentle, sympathetic, nothing like the hard-nosed reporter he knew her to be. “Have you two been fighting long?”

“Not long.”

“And,” Alya asked, seeming to hold her breath, “is she okay?”

Tears stung Chat’s eyes, prickling at the corners. His throat closed and he choked around it as he tried to inhale. He couldn’t get enough air and ended up lightheaded. “I don’t know.”

“Are you okay?”

Fat tears rolled down Chat’s cheeks, leaking off his chin and dripping on Alya’s hardwood floor. “Yes.” His eyes burned and his breath hitched twice as he tried to compose himself--to no avail. He lowered his head, scrubbing his face with his hands. “No.”

Alya shut off the camera light. She crossed to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I won’t show this side of you to my audience.” Alya squeezed his shoulder. “Go ahead, Chat. Cry it out.”

Her kindness was too much. Chat dissolved into tears, letting loose choked off, keening cries. His shoulders trembled as he buried his face into his hands, panting through his fingers.

Alya threw her arms around him, cupping the back of his head and rubbing soothing circles into his back. Chat gripped her shoulders, leaning all of his body weight on her and almost knocking her over. He rested his cheek against her temple, tears staining his skin and hers.

After a few highly-embarrassing moments, Chat was able to get his bearings again. He wiped his snotty nose with the back of his wrist, sniffling. Clearing his throat into his fist, he pulled back from Alya and looked her in the eyes. “Thanks. Um…”

“Would you like a glass of water?”

Chat blinked his teary eyes and nodded. “Yes, please.” His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears, and his throat was raw, as if someone had scraped it with a wire brush.

Alya left the room, leaving Chat by himself. He glanced over Alya’s things, noticing a framed Rena Rouge and Carapace sketch on the wall. The signature was Marinette’s, giving Chat a pang in his stomach.

Alya returned with a glass of ice water, which Chat took from her gratefully. He drained the glass, not realizing how thirsty he’d been. Chat normally hated the taste of plain water--it tasted like nothing--but given how parched he was, the cool liquid running down his throat soothed him. He crunched an ice cube in his teeth.

Alya smiled at him. “How about a wet rag for your face?”

In her hands was a blue rag he hadn’t noticed before, and as she held it out to him, Chat nearly started sobbing again. He took the rag and rubbed the damp cloth over his face, clearing away the tear dust. The crust on his eyes took a little bit of scrubbing, but once he finished with drinking the water and washing his face, he felt loads better.

Alya took the rag from him and set it on her desk, but he held onto the glass so he could chew on the ice. She gestured to her bed to have him sit, and he flopped down, crossing his legs beneath him.

“Thanks, Alya.” Chat sighed, dejected and resigned. “I’m ready to start the interview again.”

***

Adrien awoke in a cold sweat, the last vestiges of sleep clinging to his eyes like a filmy gauze. A nightmare he could barely remember haunted his steps to the bathroom, where--trembling--he relieved himself and washed his face.

In the days since Chat and Marinette had broken up, they hadn’t heard a peep out of Hawkmoth. He’d stopped threatening her, and Adrien was absurdly relieved. But as a result, he’d stopped sleeping in her bed, which he regretted immensely.

Sleeping in her bed, Adrien never had bad dreams.

“Plagg.” Adrien stared at his eyebags in the mirror, knowing his makeup artists would pitch a fit tomorrow. “What time is it?”

“Time for sleep.” Plagg harrumphed, floating over to his kitten. “It’s three in the morning; what are you doing up?”

“Nightmare.”

“Again?”

Adrien nodded, swallowing hard. His heart still pounded in his throat.

Plagg nestled in his hair, staring at him through the mirror with huge, green eyes. “Did you want to talk about it?”

Adrien wiped his eyes with his fingers, trying to rub away the dregs of the nightmare. “I can’t remember what it was. Something about Hawkmoth getting Marinette.” He glanced up at his Kwami, pursing his lips and wondering whether she was in danger right now. “Should I go visit her?”

“This early?” Plagg drew back, his brow furrowed. “No way! As much as I want to see my Sugarcube, Pigtails needs her beauty rest. And so do you, Adrien.”

“Yeah.” Adrien nodded again, agreeing with Plagg but unsure if he’d be able to sleep. Trudging back to his bed, Adrien dragged the covers up to his neck, settling down on his pillow and closing his eyes. “Good idea.”

But he couldn’t sleep no matter what he did.

His Lady had been threatened. His Lady’s parents had died.

And it was all his fault. Just because he wanted to fake date her and had forced their relationship into the public because of his own selfish desires.

Adrien flung his thin blankets off of himself, standing up from bed. He stalked over to his computer and wiggled the mouse to wake up the screen. His fingers flew over the keyboard, opening up Alya’s Ladyblog.

Adrien spent the next few hours pouring over every article on the blog, searching for any clue to Hawkmoth’s identity he may have missed. By the time he needed to shower for school, his vision was blurry and sand weighed down his eyelids.

One article in particular with a throw away line about power consumption caught his eye. “One can only speculate on the habitat to grow Akumas,” Alya had written, “but they would probably need a huge amount of heat in the winter and a decent amount of space, requiring Hawkmoth’s lair to possess a massive power source--or a decent amount of electricity drawn from the grid.”

Adrien pulled up websites listing statistics about electricity use in France, and found that the average house consumed 4760 kilowatt-hours per year. Using an electrical load calculator, Adrien estimated that to constantly heat a room big enough to grow as many Akumas as Hawkmoth threw would cost roughly 50,000 kWh per year.

Now all he needed to do was figure out what buildings would have that much power consumption--and whether any of them were personal residences.

“Plagg.” Adrien stood on shaky legs, peering out the window, where the sun crested the horizon. “I need to transform.”

Plagg floated over with cheese in hand, appearing as skeptical as always. “What for?”

Adrien squinted in the low light, his eyes sore and his heart heavy. “To talk to someone at the power company.”

***

“You look awful,” Marinette commented as she watched Adrien stalk up the stairs to the front doors of their lycée. She cupped his cheeks in her hands, peering into his wide, bloodshot eyes. “What happened?”

Adrien leaned into her touch. “I need to talk to you. Not here. Not now.” He bit his lip, his gaze flicking over his shoulder. “But after school?”

Marinette drew closer to him, holding him steady. He vibrated in her grip, wrapping his hands around her wrists. If she didn’t know any better, he seemed ready to bolt.

Marinette hated seeing her kitty upset. The worry in his eyes tore at her heartstrings. She wondered if they should skip school, depending on what he said. “How important is this?”

Two students walked past them, chattering with each other. Adrien seemed to hold his breath until they meandered into the building.

Marinette released his cheeks, and he leaned forward to whisper into her ear. “I h-have a lead.”

“A lead?”

“On Hawkmoth.”

Marinette inhaled sharply. She looped her arms around her neck, pretending that she was about to kiss him. Schooling her features into a soft, loving expression, she booped his nose. To any onlookers, she’d look like she was just flirting. “Adrien,” she whispered rapidly, her strained voice hopefully showing him the urgency she felt. “Let’s go. I’ll meet you on the roof of the school in five minutes.”

Adrien nodded and withdrew, his hands trembling. He turned and darted away, nervous energy seeming to burst forth from him. Marinette watched him run, forcing herself to trail behind at a more leisurely pace when all she wanted to do was dash after him.

She dipped into the alleyway behind the school, double-checking that no one had followed her. She opened her purse. “Tikki.”

Tikki stared up at her with a frown. “Go ahead, Marinette.”

“Spots on.”

The pink transformation light washed over her, but Marinette didn’t bother going through her usual motions. She swung up to the roof, where Chat was already pacing. Hooking her yo-yo around her waist, Ladybug approached him carefully, as if he might skitter away from her.

His feet dragged as they slid across the roof, his tail lashing about. It smacked her in the thigh as she stepped towards him, causing her to hiss with the sharp, stinging pain. Chat rounded on her, his eyes bulging and his teeth chattering. “Ladybug…”

“Chat.” Ladybug looped an arm over his shoulders only to find that he was shivering. She rubbed his arms to try to warm him up. “What happened?”

“I k-know who he is, Bug.” Chat’s chest heaved with the deep breaths he was trying and failing to take. “I know who Hawkmoth is.”

“What?” Ladybug said, her brows shooting up. If Chat knew who Hawkmoth was, this could be the end of everything. “Who? How?”

Chat offered her a pained grimace, screwing his eyes shut. “He’s my father.”

A ball of ice dropped from Marinette’s chest into her belly, freezing her from head to toe. Gabriel Agreste is Hawkmoth?

That made a sickening amount of sense. Hawkmoth never threw Akumas when Gabriel was out of town. And Gorizilla had let Ladybug go to save the falling Adrien--which Ladybug still had to scold Adrien about for not transforming to save himself.

Ladybug took Chat’s shoulders in her hands, chafing them. “How did you find out?”

Chat buried his pale face in his hands and panted. “I visited the power company to find out which houses had unexplained power consumption year-round. I wanted to see which places in Paris could heat a room big enough to grow butterflies.”

Ladybug swallowed hard. “Go on.”

“There were quite a few places--mostly warehouses.” Chat’s breath hitched. “But my house--the Agreste mansion--used three times the expected power. So I checked out the basement room, the one with the oculus window. I Cataclysmed my way in.”

Ladybug’s eyes snapped to the Agreste mansion. The window wasn’t visible from the school’s roof, but she had no doubts that Hawkmoth would notice the damage--and soon.

“What did you find?” Ladybug didn’t want to know the answer to that question. She didn’t want to ask that. But the words were already out of her mouth before she could stop herself. She turned her gaze back to Chat.

Chat opened his eyes, which were filled with so much hurt they pierced right through Ladybug’s heart. Tears glistened against the brilliant green of his sclera, magnifying the yellow part of his irises. “Rockets. And butterflies.”

The answers drained the fight out of Chat. His knees buckled, and Ladybug fell with him, sinking down to her bottom on the roof. A hysterical laugh bubbled out from his lips, and Ladybug waved her hands around his face, afraid to touch him when he was like this.

“Chat. Chat!” Ladybug grasped his shoulders and gave him a little shake, but he was still laughing even as his head lolled back and forth with the violent motion.

Gritting her teeth, she slapped his cheek. He started, inhaling sharply through a snotty nose. When he spoke, his voice was so contrite, she ached for him. “Sorry, Bug. I… I don’t know what came over me.”

“We don’t have time to freak out.” Ladybug helped him to his feet. “Your da--Hawkmoth will see what happened to his window and figure out what happened. We need to take him out before he releases another Akuma.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Chat clenched his fists. “And I get to be the one to bring him down. It’s like I was born for this.”

What Chat was saying was awful. She couldn’t let him think this way. Ladybug furrowed her brow, cupping his cheek in one gloved hand. “No. You weren’t. Just because he’s your father doesn’t mean you were destined to fight him.” She kissed the corner of Chat’s mouth. “There are so many other wonderful things you were born for.”

Chat’s gaze softened but then hardened again. “We can discuss that later. We have a supervillain to fight.”

Ladybug nodded, determination to end their enemy rushing through her. She released Chat and stepped back, unhooking her yo-yo from around her waist. Placing the communication device in her ear, she watched Chat follow suit. “You ready, Kitty?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Swinging over to the mansion took the blink of an eye. Ladybug burst through the oculus window with both feet, crunching shattered glass on the floor beneath them. The room was devoid of butterflies, as Chat had claimed were there, but in front of her stood the villain himself as well as his eyebrowless partner-in-crime, Mayura.

“Ladybug.” Hawkmoth inclined his head in her direction. Then he glanced at Chat, who’d landed beside Ladybug and held his baton in both hands. “Chat Noir. What a pleasure to finally see you here.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Chat ground out, his fingers flexing on his baton.

Ladybug spun her yo-yo, more irritated than ever with the villain. This was it. The end. Their chance to bring Gabriel Agreste to justice. “Can it, Hawkmoth! Prepare yourself, ‘cause we’re bringing you in!”

Hawkmoth lunged for Ladybug, his cane raised above his head, but Chat blocked him. The cane screamed against the metal, first ringing and then squealing as Hawkmoth dragged the walking stick down the baton.

As Chat was engaged with Hawkmoth, that left Mayura. Ladybug whipped her yo-yo forward at the woman, but she batted Ladybug’s weapon away with her fan. Planting her foot on the glass-covered ground, Ladybug aimed a high kick aimed at Mayura’s face. Mayura caught her foot and sent her spinning, but Ladybug recovered with a crouch just in time to see the fan coming at her shoulder.

Too close, Ladybug thought as she dodged out of the way, narrowly missing the sharp pinions. She tucked and rolled, springing to her feet just to hear a metallic shing, followed by a gasp from Chat. A harried glance at her partner showed that Hawkmoth was brandishing a sword.

What? Where did he get a sword? Ladybug’s heart slammed in her throat. Sudden terror suffused her; if Hawkmoth had a sword, that meant Chat was in danger.

That Adrien was in danger.

Hawkmoth tossed his cane away. Even as the sword’s sheath landed with a clatter against the wall and floor, he swung the weapon at Chat’s face. Ladybug didn’t see if her partner had dodged; she’d torn her gaze away to block Mayura’s fan.

Mayura leapt backward, plucking a feather from her fan on the way. Desperate to get to Chat, whose grunts Ladybug could hear, she hurled her yo-yo at Mayura’s hand, but the woman had closed her fist around the feather.

Mayura blew the newly-blue feather out of her hand. Ladybug didn’t have time to see where it landed as Mayura was closing in on her, whipping the fan into her face.

She’s too fast! Ladybug jerked her head back away from the fan, feeling the wind from its passing sting her open eyes. Just as Ladybug knocked the fan from Mayura’s hand with her yo-yo, a sentimonster made of jagged glass rose behind Ladybug, swinging a fist made of spikes at her.

Ladybug backflipped out of the way, just barely catching Chat’s baton being split in half out of the corner of her eye. Chat! Desperation to save her partner got her sliced down the arm from Mayura’s razor-sharp fan; Ladybug couldn’t pay attention to him or she’d die, too.

Even as Ladybug defended herself from Mayura and her sentimonster, the knowledge that Chat was completely defenseless hammered Ladybug’s brain. Her peripheral vision showed a series of near misses, with Chat being backed into a corner. As Hawkmoth advanced, Chat stumbled back, his arm flying above his head as he tried to regain his bearings.

"Chat!" Ladybug screamed, and saw his eyes dart to her. Chat's rueful gaze met her devastated one, and in that instant, they shared all the words they didn't have time to say.

A glance was all Hawkmoth needed.
He thrust the sword deep into Chat's ribs, with a wet, terrible noise that Ladybug would never forget. Upon impact, Chat slumped further onto the blade, revealing, to her horror, the tip of the weapon poking out of his back. Trembling, Chat gripped the sword, gurgling around it with bloody froth erupting from his lips. With a manic grin, Hawkmoth allowed him to sink to his knees.

Heedless of Mayura and the glass sentimonster, Ladybug bolted over to Chat’s side, sliding under him and catching him just as he fell backward. “Chat! Chat!” Chat felt heavy in her arms--so, so heavy, and so, so cold. His head lolled over her arm even as he screwed his eyes shut, his teeth chattering.

Hawkmoth withdrew the sword, prompting a ragged gasp from Chat. The supervillain sounded genuinely remorseful as Mayura drew up beside him with her sentimonster. “His Miraculous…”

Ladybug bared her teeth, about to fire back a reply, but Chat’s green transformation light washed over his body, revealing Adrien and a panicking Plagg. Hawkmoth inhaled sharply and let go of his sword, but it was the Kwami’s wail that echoed off the walls, each word slamming into Ladybug’s heart like ice daggers. “You killed my kid!”

Hawkmoth sagged down to his knees, clawing at his face. “No! Dark wings, fall!”

Ladybug couldn’t pay attention to Hawkmoth. She was too focused on her the way Adrien’s breaths fluttered at her ragged breaths fanning out over his pained, ashen face.

She had to act. She had to stop the bleeding. Adrien was going to bleed out all over her and he was going to die and it would be all her fault for rushing in to fight Hawkmoth unprepared--

“L-Ladybug,” Adrien croaked, grimacing at her. “Help.”

He needed her.

Hawkmoth, Mayura, and Plagg faded away at that moment. Focused entirely on the bleeding Adrien, Ladybug did the one thing she could think to do. She threw her yo-yo up in the air. “Lucky Charm!”

A bleed control kit fell into her waiting hands. Frantic, she glanced around with her Lucky Vision, seeing Nathalie--Nathalie?--light up red with black spots.

Nathalie reached for the spotted, zippered cloth bag. “Give that to me.”

Ladybug thrust the kit at her. Nathalie, moving with the efficiency she’d apparently been trained with but not fast enough for Ladybug, unzipped the kit. Nathalie donned tight rubber gloves and opened a back compartment of the kit, pulling out a white, rectangular package with words flashing in front of Ladybug’s eyes: “HyFin Chest Vent Seal.”

Chat gave a ragged gasp, filling both his chest and his belly with air. What’s wrong with his stomach? Ladybug gripped his hand and gave it a squeeze, her vision blurring with moisture. Oh, Chat, please… Please hang on.

“Hurry up,” Ladybug whispered, wishing she could bite her nails through the suit. Panic ricocheted through her brain, knocking her heart around in her ribcage.

Nathalie didn’t answer. Her impassive gaze didn’t leave Chat. She pulled out a clear, plastic rectangle with three channels. Moving fast and pulling on a red tab, she peeled a plastic film off the panel covered in sticky gel and pressed it firmly to Chat’s chest wound, bringing a pained grimace to his face. Nathalie barked an order: “Make him sit up.”

Ladybug immediately wrapped an arm around his shoulders and lifted him up, exposing the wound on his back that had bled all over her legs. Nausea punched her in the throat. He’d lost so much blood. Nathalie slapped a second seal over the exit wound, and much like Chat, Ladybug could breathe again.

Chat’s face looked completely drained of blood, pale and cold to the touch. Ladybug knew he wasn’t out of danger yet, so she stood, her eyes burning and her jaw set. She stomped past Nathalie and then Gabriel, whom she’d completely forgotten about and who was holding out a purple brooch.

She ignored him, but Gabriel caught up to her and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Where are you going?”

“The hospital,” she snapped, trying to pull away from him, but his grip was tight.

Plagg snarled at Gabriel, who backed off.

Gabriel’s eyes filled with tears. “You can’t use your Miraculous Cure?”

“That only works on Akumas!” Ladybug’s lip curled back from her teeth; she was ready to lunge for his throat, but clutching the shivering Adrien close to her chest stopped her. “Are you an Akuma? No!”

Ladybug tore her shoulder out of Gabriel’s grip and flung her yo-yo out the oculus window. Plagg followed, flying to catch up to them.

“It’s not,” Adrien stammered once they were airborne, panting softly as he struggled for words, “...your fault.”

Plagg sniffled, nestling in Adrien’s hair. “Kid…”

“Plagg,” Adrien croaked. “I-It’s hard to breathe.”

What? Ladybug thought, her eyes falling on his swollen chest. It was filled with air or blood or something, and Ladybug didn’t know what to do. Fear curdled her belly, shoving bile against her teeth. She didn’t know what to do.

Tears Ladybug refused to shed burned holes in her eyes. She started to respond to Adrien, but he went slack in her arms, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. “No, no, no, no, no!”

Ladybug hurled herself into the trip, swinging across the city as fast as superhumanly possible. Mere minutes after he’d been stabbed--precious minutes where Adrien may have died, but she refused to believe it--she kicked down the doors of Paris Saint-Joseph.

“Crash cart!” Ladybug’s voice ripped from her throat even before she’d crossed the threshold of the hospital, accidentally jostling the unconscious boy in her arms. “Please!”

Three nurses ran to the pair, one of them pushing a gurney. Laying him out on it, one nurse immediately peeled a corner of the chest seal back and compressed Chat’s sternum with a thick hand, forcing his lips to part and exhale air.

“What are you doing?” Ladybug cried, lunging forward to pull the nurse’s arms away. Don’t hurt him!

The nurse shook her off her loose, shaky grip. “What happened?”

“S-Sword.” Ladybug burped up acid bubbles. Her arms felt empty; she’d never again hold her love, and the thought terrified her.

“Stay here,” the nurse ordered. As the nurses escorted him away, she caught a glimpse of Adrien’s face. He looked so incredibly pale, his lips ashen. The blood staining his white overshirt was an alarming shade of scarlet, making Ladybug vibrate with panic and rage and a sick, rotten feeling that made her want to vomit.

She sank to her knees, burying her face in her trembling hands. Someone laid a hand on her shoulder and spoke, but she couldn’t process what was being said to her.

In the organized chaos of the hospital and the fear that she’d never see the boy she loved again, she barely heard the beep of her earrings.

Chapter Text

“Adrien, please.” Seated at Adrien’s hospital bedside, Gabriel fidgeted in Adrien’s peripheral vision. His father never fidgeted for any reason, but he also tended to shower every day, and that clearly wasn’t happening either. The man looked haggard, with wrinkles lining his face as if etched there by a fork. Bags had taken up residence under his eyes. “Please.”

Adrien bit a hole in his lip. His father had never said please to him before today, and as the word was intended to, the word tore at the boy’s heartstrings. Drawing a shallow breath--his chest still ached when he breathed deeply--Adrien turned his head on his pillow to face his father.

“Why’d you do it?” Adrien’s voice cracked from disuse. Certainly not the tears; Adrien would deny those to kingdom come. “Why’d you do it, Dad?”

Gabriel flinched, which brought a sick sense of satisfaction to Adrien’s mind. His father wrung his hands together. “I’ve told you. It was for you.”

Adrien bit back a snarl. Gabriel had told Adrien about his mother in the basement, and that Gabriel had become Hawkmoth because he wanted her back. The only reason he wasn’t in jail yet was that Adrien would have to move to London with his aunt if he was removed from Gabriel’s care.

Adrien was beginning to wonder if that wouldn’t be the right thing to do.

“No. It was for you and you know it.” Adrien bit his lip and felt the sting of the hole that he’d bitten in it earlier. “You terrorized an entire city based on your own inability to let go of the past. You couldn’t even pay attention to what you had in the present.”

Gabriel clenched his fist around his white pants, bunching the fabric. With his other hand, he removed his cravat, revealing the lack of a Butterfly Miraculous. “The funeral’s on Monday.”

Adrien started, his eyes flying wide open. His father had–up until that point–refused to acknowledge that his mother had died. What had changed? “W-What?”

Gabriel’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I’m sorry, son. I’m sorry.” Tears rolled off his stubbly chin. “I’m ready to atone for my mistakes.” His lower lip quivered. “And I’m sorry about… Marinette. Threatening her. Hurting her family.”

“I will never forgive you for that.” Tears burned hot in Adrien’s eyes, bright pinpricks of pain. His rage was a star primed to explode, festering in his heart and just waiting for the right moment. But Marinette didn’t want that. “But she wants to forgive you. So, maybe, I sho--”

Someone knocked on the door frame. “Is this a bad time?” Ladybug glared at Gabriel as if daring him to lay a finger on his son. Adrien smiled, happy to see her and marveling at her strength. Her shoulders were thrown back and her fists were clenched at her sides, showing her beautiful determination to protect him.

The man stood, gathering his white coat from the back of his chair. “No, I was just leaving.” He nodded to the superheroine. “Ladybug.”

“Hawkmoth.” Ladybug wrinkled her nose as he stepped past her, looking adorable to Adrien. “Take a shower; you stink.”

Gabriel chuckled wetly. “Thanks for your concern.” He turned back to pat her shoulder and she stiffened even further. Adrien let loose a low growl, and Gabriel withdrew his hand. “Take care, son.”

Gabriel dithered at the doorway, so Ladybug stepped into the room and shut the door in his face. Adrien’s laughter cracked across the room, making her smile.

Ladybug looked just as haggard as Gabriel had. She crossed to the chair and sagged down into it, her shoulders slumped and a sigh escaping her lips.

Adrien took her hand, happy to see her regardless of what she looked like. “Hello, lovely.”

She smiled again, her eyes shining with adoration. “Hey.” Ladybug squeezed his fingers. “How are you feeling?”

“Restless.” Adrien waggled his toes under the blanket, knowing he couldn’t exactly sit up yet. “They’re not letting me go just yet, and I’m so bored here.”

Ladybug pursed her lips. “Do you want me to bring you another Sudoku book?”

Adrien shook his head. “No, thank you. How are the press conferences? Have people stopped baying for Hawkmoth’s blood yet?”

“Uggggh.” Ladybug cradled her head in her hand, so Adrien tucked her hair behind her ear, hoping to give her some reassurance. “The press conferences are terrible. You handle the camera so much better than I do.”

Adrien rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, delighting in the feeling of her glove under his fingers. “Do you need Chat to make an appearance?”

Ladybug bit a hole in her beautiful, kissable lips, which Adrien hated to see her do. “Yes. But also no. Not until you’re fully healed.”

She brought his hand up to her lips and brushed them against his wrist, making his skin tingle. “I’m not going to lie to you, Adrien, Paris is worried about Chat. But I refuse to let you expose yourself to whatever other villains are out there until I know you can take a hit.”

Adrien grinned cheekily at her, knowing he’d caught her with her suit down, so to speak. “So you’re allowing me to take hits for you?”

“I didn’t say that.” Her tone was scathing, making Adrien bark out a contented laugh. Ladybug booped his nose, so he wrinkled it. “I don’t want you hurt, Adrien. You have such a martyr complex.”

Adrien huffed, annoyed. “I don’t have a martyr com--”

Ladybug pressed her lips against his, silencing him. When she pulled away, she was giving him a pained grimace. “You do, though.”

She stroked his cheek, her brow smoothing out as she leaned in for another kiss, which Adrien wasn’t about to argue against. Giving him a hooded look that jump started his heart, she traced his jawline with a gloved finger. “But we can tackle that later,” she soothed. “Right now…”

“Right now,” Adrien murmured, threading his fingers through her dark, silken hair, “I really want to kiss you.”

Ladybug’s tongue darted out and licked his lips, shooting fire through his veins. He covered her mouth with his and breathed in her air, which tasted heavily of coffee. The angle of her head was slightly awkward, as she was sitting in a chair by his bedside, but after she rose to her feet, she leaned over to slant her lips against his.

“Mmm.” Adrien hummed against her, allowing her to take the lead in their kissing. He didn’t want to move much, as that would tweak his wound, but Ladybug never minded. Adrien’s passion for her wasn’t dampened, and she knew that; he was just unable to express his ardor through movements like letting his hands roam over her back and pressing her close to his chest.

For the moment. Adrien couldn’t wait until he was fully healed.

Still, he stroked her cheekbones and carded his fingers through her hair as often as he could, tangling his tongue with hers. Their kisses were light and sweet, thrilling Adrien and promising more. Ladybug handled him in a way that was gentle and compassionate, sucking on his bottom lip in a long, drawn out movement that curled his toes.

Ladybug braced herself on the bed with one hand, running her other fingers over the shell of his ear. Goosebumps rose on Adrien’s arms, and he allowed himself to moan into her mouth. He began to sit up, but she laughed against him, drawing back.

“Hey...” Adrien panted, already regretting the lack of her warm lips against his own. “Are we done? Why are we done?”

Ladybug cupped his cheek, smiling down at him. “I don’t want you to sit up, Kitty.”

Adrien frowned, irritated that she felt she had to handle him with kid gloves. “I’m not some porcelain doll.”

Ladybug shook her head, her hair ribbons bouncing with the motion. “No, you’re not. But…” She drew a breath through her nose and let it out through her mouth. She was so close, Adrien tasted coffee again. “The doctors had to re-inflate one of your lungs. I’ll not have you pop a stitch just because I want to suck your face.”

Saucy grin in place, Ladybug winked at him. “We can get back to it when you’re fully healed and we’re dating.”

Adrien beamed up at her. He settled more firmly against the pillow so she wouldn’t have any reason to fuss. “When we’re dating?”

Ladybug nodded shyly. “With Hawkmoth out of the way, we can date without worrying about one of us being compromised.”

“Ladybug and Adrien, making out incognito.” Adrien laughed, and she laughed with him. “We’ve really come full circle, haven’t we?”

“We have, yes.”

“It’s been a long journey.” Adrien brought her knuckles to his lips and pressed a kiss theore, sealing her as his with his affection. “But I wouldn’t have wanted to make it with anyone but you.”

“Adrien,” Ladybug said, leaning forward to whisper into his ear and sending a thrill through him. “I love you.”

“Ladybug,” Adrien whispered back, more happy than he truly deserved. “I love you, too.”

Even wounded as he was, Adrien wouldn’t change anything that had happened for the world. Their past had become their shared present, and their shared future promised to be bright.

Exchanging sweet nothings with his Lady in a hospital bed, Adrien was right where he wanted to be.

THE END