Chapter Text
Caterwauling.
That was the word for what was occurring outside Marinette’s window.
Loud, obnoxious yowls that sounded an awful lot like an operation being performed without anesthesia polluted the midnight air, making it impossible for Marinette to sleep.
To her great misfortune, the local gang of alley cats that fed on the nearby restaurants’ dumpster scraps had taken to congregating on the roof of the building adjoining the bakery, and this was the third night in a row that Marinette had been treated to their off-key concert.
Finally giving up, Marinette set the pillow she’d been pressing over her ears aside and pulled herself up onto her balcony.
On a mission, she grabbed the watering can from its place on the wooden crate and climbed up onto the parapet, careful not to knock over any of her potted plants.
“Shut up!” she growled, dumping the contents of the watering can over the wall between her balcony and the neighboring roof.
The band of tone-deaf felines scattered with shrieks and hisses and yelps of, “Hey! What was that for?!”
Utterly taken aback, Marinette went up on tiptoe and cautiously peered over the wall, half afraid of finding a magical talking cat.
That is exactly what she found…only it wasn’t the kind of magical talking cat she had been imagining.
“Chat Noir?” She gaped at her partner in confusion. “What are…? Why are you…? …You’re soaked,” she observed after several false starts.
He stuck his lip out in a patented pout as his tail whisked back and forth irately. “And whose fault is that?”
Her mouth fell open.
“I poured my watering can out on you!” she gasped.
“Yeah. You did,” he grumbled as he folded his arms over his chest, trying to hold in heat as he started to shiver.
It wasn’t quite winter yet, but the late autumn nights were chilly in Paris.
“I am so sorry, Chaton! Hold on. Let me go get you a towel.”
She was halfway down the skylight before he could even get a perfunctory protest out.
He hopped over the wall onto her balcony and made himself as comfortable on the wooden crate as possible given that he was currently dripping stagnant-smelling water.
“I really am sorry,” Marinette called up to him as she ascended once more. “Those stray cats were making such a racket that I couldn’t sleep, so I…”
She draped one of the towels over his head and shoulders and gently began to massage him dry.
“…Chat Noir…what were you doing on the other side of that wall with the cats?”
He swallowed hard and averted his gaze. “…I hang out there sometimes.”
Her eyes went as wide as the fairy lights that were backlighting her and making her glow like the angel she was.
“You do? I’ve…never seen you there before.”
His shoulders slowly started to climb up to his ears. “I don’t necessarily announce my presence. Sorry. I know it’s weird and kind of creepy, me loitering by your balcony.”
Her brow creased slightly. “No, it’s not.”
It was a little unusual, but she could tell that they were on unsteady ground, and she didn’t want to say the wrong thing and make him retreat into his protective shell.
“…Why do you hang out there?” she inquired, trying to keep her tone conversational and nonjudgmental. “Is that the new hip spot all of Paris will be talking about soon? What am I missing out on?”
He turned his head to avoid her gaze as he murmured, “It’s my safe spot. I just… It smells like the bakery, and it reminds me of you, since it’s like practically being on your balcony without actually trespassing, so… I feel better there. I come when I’m feeling down, and it makes me feel better…because it’s close to you.”
Marinette gazed at her partner in astonishment, unable to find the words to voice what she felt at discovering what she meant to him.
In lieu of spoken words, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, just below the edge of his mask.
“Silly kitty. I’m sure the deck chair or my chaise longue would be more comfortable than sitting with your back up against that brick wall on the hard, tiled roof. …You do know that you’re welcome here any time, don’t you?”
She took his face in her hands and gingerly made him look at her.
His eyes were wide with wonder and disbelief.
She smiled reassuringly as she insisted, “I really mean it. Any time of the day or night, especially when you’re feeling down. Come see me, okay? I want you here.”
A fragile smile slowly formed on his lips. “…You promise not to pour your watering can on me again?”
She rolled her eyes with a groan. “I didn’t mean to dump it on you. I was just… Your friends were a little loud, and they were eating into my beauty sleep time.”
Chat grimaced. “Sorry about them. There were a couple up there a few nights ago, and I may have fed them so they’d let me pet and hold them. I wasn’t thinking that they’d come back with friends and cause trouble. I’m really sorry about that. I was kind of desperate for a cuddle.”
She arched an eyebrow.
His cat ears flattened against his head in shame. “I’m a little touch-starved.”
“Do you want to cuddle with me?” she offered without a second thought.
His heart did a backflip. “You mean it? Now?”
She nodded. “I’m going to sleep, but, if you don’t mind sharing a bed with me, you can stay and cuddle as long as you like.”
His brain partially shut down because there was just too much to process in what she was offering him. Momentarily ignoring other important aspects of that plan (such as sharing a bed with Marinette), Chat made himself focus on the most pressing issue:
“But…I can’t cuddle like this. I’m all wet and gross and smelly from the water you poured on me.”
She shrugged. “I’m going to be wearing my sleep mask. Just detransform until you’re ready to leave.”
He opened and closed his mouth several times.
The logical part of his brain knew that this was a bad idea and probably a sure way to compromise his identity.
Unfortunately, his heart screamed louder than his head. What could possibly go wrong? Her eyes would be covered, and she’d be unconscious before long. Yes, there was a small risk that she’d find out who he was, but when he weighed that chance against the prospect of snuggling with Marinette all night…
It was worth it. After all, he was feeling particularly isolated and worthless after a rough day. This could very well make the difference between getting akumatized.
“Okay,” he whispered, taking her outstretched hand and letting her lead him down into her bedroom.