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It was undoubtedly true that Ladybug loved Chat Noir no more than just a friend.
He was that.
A friend.
Chat Noir — a silly boy with bright green eyes and a complex personality capable of confusing the most awarded of psychologists — was just a friend to Ladybug — an even sillier girl with two left feet and an anxiety with the ability to give your anxiety more anxiety.
This was a clear fact of life Chat Noir and all fellow Ladynoir shippers had come to accept after three long tiring years of weekly rejections. It seemed to this loveable feline hero and his fanbase that he would never be more than “just a partner like any other” to his respected superhero partner. But for the most part, that was fine.
Chat Noir had always known he would be one of those idiots to fill the stereotypical hero with daddy issues and unrequited feelings. It fit his brand in some strange way. And so, he felt in debt to the universe for having such dashing good looks, amazing personality, and awesome talents that he supposed he could continue suffering through the will-they-won’t-they dance he knew for a fact they were dancing.
Because, c’mon, how could she not fall for him?
Like for example, at this moment as Chat Noir narrates this story in his head as does any normal teenager, Ladybug sits beside him looking especially pretty. He has been trying to figure out what's so different about her this particular evening.
Hmm… could it be—
“New haircut, Bugginette?” Chat Noir asks, sure that is the case.
The pretty girl in red turns to look at him with a… funny look on her face. (Funny is a word for it, he doesn’t really know how else to explain it. He’s seen expressions being described as “funny” in fanfiction before and that’s, really if he’s honest, where he learned all his English.) “No? I’m literally wearing my normal, regular, basic pigtails?”
Ha.
Of course.
“Well, yeah, but they seem… I don’t know, shorter?” He answers.
She chuckles in the most adorable way someone can chuckle. Actually, scratch that
thought, pretend he never said that, because then you’d know what a big liar he is because no one can come close to mastering that adorable chuckle that solely belongs to Ladybug. “Oh my kissy kissy meow meow, Chaton, you’re so silly.”
If you must know, because yes you are certainly wondering, kissy kissy meow meow is a silly code name they gave to their kisses. You know, those moments in time when they get closer and closer until their mouths come into a very intimate and hot contact and like make a noise (some might explain the noise as “mwuah”/“mwah” but he would definitely say its more like “dsfhkjd” or “kasdhfuHISHDFHSKJDFHSKDJFHKSJDHFKSDJHFKSJDHFKJSD” than anything else (yes, that's right keysmash noises because kissing noises are beyond words))
“—Earth to Chat Noir!” Ladybug says as she waves her hand, repeatedly on his face. Huh, when did that hand get there. “Whatchu thinking ‘bout, pretty boy?” she asks.
Chat chuckles nervously (some might call it a giggle but he is far too manly to giggle LOL) a little because gosh this girl is completely clueless about what she does to his heart every time she calls him that nickname. “Oh, well you sent me into the kissy kissy meow meow rabbit hole again.” He admits.
She pats his head. “Happens to the best of us. Are you thinking of claiming your tenth kiss?” she asks.
Well no he wasn’t thinking of that but rather how to describe kissing noises but she’s none the wiser right? And either way… now that she mentions it… it's an appealing idea. His lips, her lips (JSDFHKSJDHFKSJADHFKSJADHFKSJADF).
“Yeah.” he coughs, nearly choking with his own saliva. “Should I?”
Ladybug smiles, tilting her head in that adorable way she only knows how to master. “You could… but you know after that you’ll only have seven more kisses and then no more!”
The thought of no more Ladybug kisses is the most depressing thought a man could ever think.
“You’re right,” he says with a sigh. “I’ll save the tenth kiss for a more special occasion than being tied up in a magical jail cell while we wait for the rest of the team to come save us.”
Ladybug giggles. “Good idea I suppose.”
_______________
He supposes he should explain the story from the beginning now that he’s in the safety of his car, on his way to some boring rich boy party he’s being forced to attend, and has nothing better but to continue this narration of his. Ha ha.
Ahem, well, you see it’s sometime during the summer when Ladybug first asks Chat Noir what he wants for his maybe-birthday. (Maybe-birthdays, in case it's something you’ve never heard of, is a fake birthday Ladybug and Chat Noir made up for each other since they cannot reveal their real birthdays. The tradition had begun around the second year of akumas when Ladybug asked him, out of the blue, when his birthday was. Chat Noir had totally forgotten he couldn’t actually say the real one but still said it. To his surprise, Ladybug had answered with “Huh, the same as Adrien Agreste’s birthday” and to that Chat had cleverly replied with “Well, I can’t tell you the real one so I chose uh, his… because I’m a big fan! And— and, and his face is right there on that billboard in front of us so….” And yeah, that’s how it happened. Ladybug, meanwhile, had chosen Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s birthday, a young Parisian Designer. He thought it was funny.)
Anyway, the question is casual enough, sprung from a past conversation on maybe-birthdays and their established dates — his maybe-birthday was just a few months away, but Ladybug was a planner. (Unlike him, he planned on just getting her something the week before or something. Yin and Yang stuff, you know?)
Given Ladybug’s expression when he replied, she had probably expected his answer would be the usual “you don’t have to get me anything” or “whatever is fine” or perhaps even a very strange and specific, very Chat-like request such as “Ariana Grande’s cat ears”. All of those responses were very Chat, he had to admit, but he hadn’t replied with any of those. His actual response leaves Ladybug staring at him for a moment, searching his face for a hint of humor.
“Seventeen kisses for my seventeenth birthday,” he states.
Yeah, totally normal.
“Seventeen kisses?” Ladybug questions, a tone of both annoyance and disbelief painting her voice. “You want seventeen kisses?”
Chat Noir shrugs, nonchalantly, inspecting his claws as if they were simultaneously the most boring and interesting things he’d ever seen. Which they were. Are. “Well, yeah, seventeen kisses for my seventeenth birthday.”
(He was trying to act like it was normal and totally cool to ask his just-a-partner Ladybug for seventeen kisses for his birthday, you know, but it was really driving him insane in the inside because he just spoiled everything and oh goodness could the earth just swallow him alive like right now? Please and thank you?? PRETTY PLEASE???)
“Chat—” Ladybug begins with a sigh, clearly having thought that after three years of rejection and friend-zoning, and after two years of a solid strictly platonic relationship (!!), it was more than clear that she didn’t want him like that! And, in addition, he had already moved on and realized it was a lost cause. Yeahhhh , no. Nope. Moving on? Who ever heard of that? Certainly not Chat Noir. Ha. Ha.
“You asked what I wanted for my birthday, and I answered!” he replies, still internally cursing himself with not-very-nice words he chooses not to retell you now.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect you to ask me to kiss you seventeen times! I thought maybe you’d want, I don’t know, a scarf or maybe a book or something more dorky!” she waves her arms in the air, frantically. “But kisses ? I thought we were long over this, we’re just partners and that’s all we’ll ever be!”
Chat raises his eyebrows at her while her lips twitch slightly— not that he was looking at her lips! Of course, not! The movement simply caught his eyes for just a second though, a very brief second! Who is he kidding? No one. That’s who. (He hopes there’s no one on Earth named No One because he wouldn’t convince that person either so his statement would be false and—) “Friends can kiss! It’s not like you’ve never kissed me before, you know,”
She made the “no, no he has a point” face and then the “but—” face.
“ But that was different , I was just trying to save you from Dark Cupid’s spell!” Ladybug counters.
Chat nods his head. “True, but what about Oblivio?”
Oblivio.
Oblivio.
Why can’t he like turn back time and just live in a loop of forever in that kiss? That would be great. Yes.
“I— We don’t even remember that!”
“Isn’t it sad,” Chat lets out a dejected sigh. “that I don’t remember both my first and second kiss! And I’m turning seventeen next week! Seventeen !”
That steals the words from Ladybu’s tongue. For just a moment, though, because this girl always has something to say. SMH LB. “I mean, I don’t remember my second kiss either! So you’re not alone!”
That was such a weak point, though.
“At least you remember the first one! First kisses are very monumental!”
“Was it under perfect-ideal-first-kiss circumstances, though?” Ladybug argues.
“You have a point,” he admits.
But… he means…. it was very romantic… The love of his life freed him from the curse of an evil witch with a kiss? Who wouldn’t want that to be their first kiss! (If only he could remember it would really be perfect!!!! Curse YOU PLAGG AND YOUR CURSING LUCK!)
“Besides, you didn’t miss much, I’m probably a horrible kisser, anyway!”
That gets a reaction out of him.
He remembers feeling like he had just been slapped. And he was ragging. “Ladybug Charlotte Elise Most Beautiful Girl in The Whole World Noir—” (That’s her full name, in case you’re wondering.)
“What—”
“I might not remember the exact moment we kissed, nor the way it felt, but I remember that you are a great and wonderful kisser!”
Ladybug adorably (reminder to self: look for adorable synonyms when you get home because it's annoying using this same adjective again and again to describe the love of your life’s laugh) chuckles, unamused. “Start making sense, Chaton, because you’re not making any.”
“What is there to make sense about?!” he exclaims, putting his hands on her shoulders. “You’re a great kisser, I can say that because I kissed you—”
“You don’t remember!”
“And? I don’t need to remember to know,”
“You kind of do.”
“Hm, how about this,” Chat smirks. “kiss me seventeen times, and I’ll tell you how good of a kisser you are! It’s a win-win situation.”
Something in Ladybug’s eyes lit up, and she was basically a Christmas Tree. “Oh, yes, Chat! Yes! Of course! Why not! Let’s just make out right now! Who cares about anything?! Let’s make out always! While the world ends and everything!!”
And so they did.
JK. JK. JK.
He wishes.
What actually happened was… well she said no at first because, you know Ladybug, she’s always paranoid and a big LIAR because he knows she’s in love with him too and stuff. Besides, she basically went all “my name is no, my number is no” blah blah on him and in the end, one week away from his birthday, OUT OF THE BLUE MIND YOU, she said:
“Okay.”
Chat was confused of course, given the fact that they had been sitting in complete silence for about five minutes.
“Okay?”
“Okay,” she repeats again. “I’ll give you seventeen kisses for your birthday. But— OH
GOD CHAT STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT AND LISTEN!” she smacks him a few times trying to wipe his star-struck-heart-eye-emoji-hybrid (for visual purposes:🤩+😍) expression. “There are rules to this, okay? Rules you cannot for anything in the world break or bend or try and find loopholes in!”
He salutes. “Yes ma’am!”
“I’m serious, Chat,” she says. “Do not try to—”
“Find loopholes, yeah yeah. I’m hurt you think I’d EVER do that!” he exclaims,
dramatically.
She narrows her eyes at him and rolls her eyes, briefly (cutely too. Wait, is that even a word?) “Okay, sure.”
These are the rules:
Rules to Seventeen Birthday Kisses by Ladybug (Charlotte Elise Most Beautiful Girl in The Whole World Noir)
Disclaimer: DO NOT THINK I LIKE YOU LIKE THAT!! FRIENDS CAN KISS AND NOT HAVE FEELINGS FOR EACH OTHER AND THE ONLY REASON, I REPEAT ONLY ONLY ONLY, I’M DOING THIS IS BECAUSE I FEEL BAD THAT YOU DON’T REMEMBER YOUR FIRST AND SECOND KISS!!! ONLY REASON!!!
- RULE 1: no kissing in public.
- RULE 2: you have to ask for the kiss before you get it.
- RULE 3: you have two weeks to claim all seventeen kisses.
- RULE 4: we must keep count of how many kisses we use up because I’m only kissing you seventeen times and that’s it!
- RULE 5: no making out, these are just kisses.
- RULE 6: no asking for more than one kiss every time we meet.
- RULE 7: code word for kissing is kissy kissy meow meow. If you want to ask for one and not make it weird or awkward just say “kissy kissy meow meow” and your kiss shall be given if conditions are suitable (refer to rule one).
Seven rules for his seventeen birthday kisses. Gosh, she was such a planner.
_______________
The first kiss goes as any other first kiss.
Well, at least he thinks it did. Given that he doesn’t remember his actual first kiss and has only a blurry, pixelated photo from the Ladyblog as proof that it happened and it was not all just a big prank that all of Paris collectively decided to play on him.
Anyway, the kiss is totally and normally awkward…
And… painful .
The scene is as follows: the then-birthday boy sits on Eiffel Tower beside a star-turned girl — aka Ladybug. Pathetic birthday hats decorate their heads as they swing their legs in a laughable, pathetic way because they’ve been sitting in pathetic, awkward silence for the last ten long, pathetic minutes.
That is to say, they both know what is supposed to happen next as per the agreement that Chat Noir has been nonstop teasing Ladybug with all week . The same agreement that he can’t get himself to stop thinking about ever since the agreement came to be… agreed.
You know, the seventeen kisses for his seventeenth birthday.
Yeah. That agreement.
But how is one to just randomly blur out “kissy kissy meow meow” without sounding pathetically desperate? Because the combination of those two words perfectly describes what he’s feeling right now.
Pathetic.
And abundantly desperate.
God, people don’t talk enough about the patheticness that being in love brings along! Ten minutes before this very long silence, he had been yapping his life away but the second that his eyes did the usual Glance at Her Lips and Look Away, a realization dawned over him.
Right now if he wanted to he could ask for a kiss and this time, unlike the billion of other times, Ladybug’s deliciously pink lips would actually press against his and they would actually share a kiss that they will both forever and always remember.
That was, apparently, too much to unpack — though, again, this has been a topic he has obsessively been thinking about for the past week — that he just randomly shut off and ceased to work. Ladybug was still speaking, he could tell vaguely because those beautiful lips of hers were moving in an unfairly attractive manner, but he could not understand what she was saying. Neither could he formulate a reply like the pathetic fool he was.
So yeah.
Ladybug probably had no idea why he started to gawk at her so out of nowhere. From her POV they’d just been talking and Chat Noir just suddenly stopped responding and stared intensely at her lips—
And then he did it. He said the words. Practically, SCREAMED them mind you. And before he could think more of it Ladybug was crashing her lips against his and he stopped thinking but god did it hurt.
He was pretty sure kisses weren’t supposed to hurt but…
His bottom lip… it was bleeding because Ladybug crashed her teeth against it.
If your body is not physically rejecting this scene in waves of cringe, are you even human?
Anyway, they just stayed silent after that.
“Chat?” he hears a soft, beautiful voice say.
Melting at the sound of her vanilla voice, Chat Noir musters enough courage and man up to say a super duper manly response. By that, he means he manages to crock out a weak and pathetic interpretation of her beautiful alias.
“L-Ladybug?”
Ah, yes. Answer a question-marked name with a question-marked name. The great and mighty Chat Noir, ladies and gentlemen and nonbinary folks.
But, miraculously, Ladybug bursts out laughing. And the sound of her peals of laughter fills his lungs with relief and joy and so much love that he feels as though he’s suffocating because god he loves this girl more than anything in the universe.
“Nervous are we, Kitty?” she chuckles, elbowing his side. “Super duper overwhelmed at the amazingness of that kiss?”
Chat Noir groans into the palm of his hand, sliding them into his hair and pulling at it tightly as if that would somehow restart his brain. “Why am I so pathetic?”
Ladybug giggles, crossing a leg over the other as she pats his shoulder in pity. “Can’t blame ya, I’d be just as nervous if my crush agreed to kiss me and then like, made my lip bleed.”
Nice timing.
“Wow, thanks for reminding me of the curse of unrequited love, LB, you’re just so fantastic!” he states, bitterly.
Ladybug barks a laugh as she gets up from her seat. “I’m sorry! I just meant, like… you’re not alone. I would react the exact same way.”
“Are you even sorry for making my lip bleed?” He looks up at her with an unimpressed look.
“Not one bit,” she responds, though he knows she is. He knows that once the rush ends, he’ll be receiving apology gifts for the next few days. “But if it makes you feel better, I’m way more pathetic when it comes to things like this.”
“Are you saying that in a battle of patheticness, you would win?”
“Oh, definitely! You have no chance at winning.”
“How are you so confident, Buginette? I would totally beat you!” he exclaims getting up from his seat.
Ladybug scoffs, rolling her eyes with arms crossed over her chest. “In your dreams!”
“Yes, even in dreams I win!” he responds and their bodies come closer and closer together. He can’t help it. She’s a magnet.
“No, no! That is not what I meant and you know it!”
“Hm, really? Because last time I checked I’m your pathetic baby girl!”
“Well, you are!” she agreed with a laugh. “but I’m like THE pathetic baby girl with all caps, emphasis on the ‘the’.”
And now those lips that said his name and insulted him every other minute, were a breath away from his.
He was in a daze.
That much he understood as he pathetically, once again, stared at her lips.
“Say it,” she says, “say the magic words.”
He gulps. “Uh, please?”
A soft giggle escapes her lips. “The other magic words, silly.”
“Kissy kissy meow meow?” he lets out.
Then she kisses him the most soft kiss in the history of soft kisses.
After that she throws her yoyo in the air, shouting a last “happy birthday” and disappears from his sight.
RULE 6: no asking for more than one kiss every time we meet.
_______________
The breaking of rule number six is never mentioned by either Chat Noir or Ladybug. Chat Noir doesn’t bring it up mainly because, like, come on, that rule was completely unnecessary! Useless. So much so that they broke it the very same day the contract officially started.
Ladybug probably thought the same thing so she never brought it up either. (Delusion speaking at its finest probably?)
Anyway.
Let me tell you about the third, fourth, and fifth kisses! Which I know you’re anxiously waiting to hear about. Because that is why I’m telling you this story. You are most definitely wondering what happened and I’m telling you because I honestly have nothing better to do as I eat this miserable “lunch” by myself in this awfully cold dining room with a huge table to fit a lot of people… but here I am, eating by myself as I pathetically retell this story to… myself.
Anyway .
Ladybug, looking prettier than any star, gives Chat Noir, who tries to pay attention to what’s important and what is going on currently — it’s quite difficult with such a distracting view — a meaningful look. Meaningful look meaning that she’s sending him a text wall of information on their next move via eye contact.
He understands every word, of course, because they’re soulmates. But while he’s still deciphering the message (aka the message got a little distorted because he began to inspect the light in her eyes), the akuma villain throws a hit his way and he flops across Paris uselessly.
Way to go.
He thought cats were supposed to always land on their feet.
And apparently so did Ladybug as she voices this same thought, her yoyo wrapping around his waist as she pulls him back up to the roofs of a random apartment building.
Chat Noir lets a sarcastic laugh and opens his mouth to respond with a super creative and witty response but before he has a chance, one of the villain’s minions tackles his lady which as a result makes him fall once again and—
Okay, you probably don’t care about these details all that much so I’ll just get straight to the point. Chat Noir gets thrown, Ladybug grabs him, Ladybug gets attacked, Chat Noir falls, Ladybug fights, they get up, a polka-dotted item falls from the sky, Ladybug makes a weird plan that works, they win.
Well. They do win. It’s just that, well, a piece of the plan could not work if Chat didn’t sacrifice himself. So he did what he had to do and jumped in front of the beam and everything got so bright before it went… dark.
But, in seconds he was back. Or, well, it felt like seconds to him but to Ladybug it was probably just too long that as soon as he was washed in magical ladybugs, she threw herself at him.
And so they were on the ground and she was on top of him and she could feel her everywhere and you know, he was casually dying and then as he was dying she actually made sure he was dead dead because she KISSED HIM?? YES YOU HEARD THAT RIGHT!!! LADYBUG KISSED HIM AGAIN!!!!!
Yeah, it was safe to say that he was dead.
And, oh yeah, they were in public. Everyone saw.
RULE 1: no kissing in public.
_______________
The speculations of whether Ladybug and Chat Noir were dating have been around since the beginning of time. Everyone is constantly wondering if their OTP is an item or not.
Literally everyone.
Chat Noir himself is, unfortunately, and pathetically, included in this awfully long list of passionate Ladynoir shippers who relentlessly wonder if they’re a thing or not. Because after that viral long, desperate kiss Ladybug gave him that last time, the one that is plaguing everyone’s FYP, the speculations and fan theories have grown increasingly. In both numbers and perhaps, hopefully, validity.
So while everyone was spreading the LadyNoir Gospel of Kisses and Good News, Chat Noir was cooking up his own share of fantheories in that, contrary to popular belief, not so empty head of his.
Fact is, that kiss was wow.
Just friends don’t kiss like that.
He imagines that if he felt nothing for Ladybug and Ladybug, actually truly felt nothing for him as well, and these kisses were for simple physical pleasure, they would be empty. No meaning, no passion, just lust.
And the kisses they’ve shared so far have not been empty. At all.
The first one was awkward and painful, sure, but they had both given it their all. It was enthusiastic and exciting. It was new and wonderful. So much so that all the joy he felt when their mouths (lips and teeth more like) made contact, bled out of him.
The second kiss was everything and more.
It was gentle, like a greeting of their lips. The reunion of two lost lovers finding their way back to each other, electrifying them with a sense of faded familiarity. A shy peck that said remember this? Remember us? How could you forget? A tap of their mouths that promised even if you forgot, I will remind you .
That kiss kept him wanting more.
If their second kiss was a tap, their third kiss was a slap.
Her lips crushed against his — though not in the way that they had the first time. This time, it was with purpose. She did not miss, her two lips were perfectly aligned with his and stayed for a little too long that it could no longer be called an accident.
He felt like their bodies were stuck together with glue. He felt like nothing was strong enough to break the connection of their mouths in that bewitching kiss.
There is a chance that he is reading too much into this, though. And if he has learned anything in life is to expect the worst or you’ll only end up constantly disappointed by reality.
In the words of Thanos, reality is often disappointing.
Ahaha, the way that took a rather dark and hopelessly romantic turn… He blames it on the music Ladybug is forcing him to listen to as they stare into the stars. Never listen to the Twilight soundtrack and retell a story because it will unwillingly turn into gothic vampire poetry of sorts. If whatever that was can be called that…
In any case, that totally got him into a kissing mood which is a rather difficult vibe for a guy like him to vibe to if you know what he means. (He’s always in a kissing mood.)
But he should probably wait until a more appropriate song to play when he makes his request. Currently, they’re listening to Bruno Mars talking about rain and no sunlight and I’ll never be your mother’s favorite ah your daddy can’t even look me in the eye ooohohohoohoh if i was in their shoes — you get the picture.
Probably not the best time to smooch right? It’s a breakup song of sorts so he should wait until she plays Thousand Years or Turning Page as she exasperated over the fact that he’s never seen twilight. (He has. A lot of time. Hoa hoa hoa season is his personal favorite season — not that he’d ever admit that to anyone. It might taint his alpha persona he’s so carefully worked on!)
But anyway, he loves to listen to Ladybug as she goes into those deep and unnecessarily long rants on a strangely specific topic she’s very passionate about. Tonight’s topic being why every track in the Twilight Saga is a reflection of the story itself.
She’s laying next to him on some random rooftop and he’s listening to her emotional speech as he connects stars into constellations. His body is burning to touch her, but he does not want to interrupt her. He doesn't want her to stop talking, he loves to listen to her, but he also likes when she kisses him and sadly, she can’t do both.
So he waits for her to come to a natural stop, listening attentively to her every word.
Eventually, she does stop.
As Clair de Lune plays, they lay there in complete silence.
And then he can’t take it anymore so he sits up and stares at her. She opens her eyes from the commotion and smiles at him, confused.
“Hi,” he blurs out, pathetically, internally cringing at how stupid that was.
Ladybug sits up too, laughing. “Hey.”
He glances at her lips. “I–”
I want to kiss you. Can I please kiss you? Like now? And forever and never ever stop?
Can I kiss you?
Is what he wants to say, but nothing comes out.
“Do you want a kiss?” Ladybug asks, quietly, “is that it?”
“I— well, if you… want…”
She giggles, “Rule number 7.”
His expression melts. “You just love when I say it don’t you?”
“Well, it’s cute to hear you say such an adorable statement! It makes me want to kiss you even more .” She admits.
Even more.
Even more?
His cheeks burn as he rubs the back of his neck. “Evil.”
“Always.” She winks.
Even more.
“Kissy kissy meow meow?” He says sheepishly.
She giggles and kisses him.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Four.
Five.
Even more.
Even more .
Uh, ten? Wait no, nine?
RULE 4: we must keep count of how many kisses we use up because I’m only kissing you seventeen times and that’s it!
_______________
The next time they meet, his two weeks have officially come to an end.
Meaning that he can no longer ask for more kisses because they’re now back to never kissing again and probably never talking about the times they did kiss.
He feels the loss as he arrives on patrol. As usual, Ladybug is late and for once in his life, he’s kind of thankful for that. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to bear seeing her today and not blurt out that he wants to kiss her again. Or well, act like it.
So he has these last few minutes to collect himself and try his best to act like Ladybug does. Like nothing ever happened.
So. No what do you want for you birthday . No seventeen kisses, please . No out of nowhere yes . No rules. No breaking said rules. No first and second kiss. No third kiss. No losing count of how many times they kissed. No “ even more ”.
Hm. Okay.
That’s easy.
He probably imagined it all, anyway. And if it was real, it probably meant nothing to her. She probably kisses a lot of boys all the time. That would explain why she’s such a perfect kisser— wait, he doesn’t know that because he’s never kissed her.
Kisses? What even are those? Totally fake. They’re up there with rainbows and an anxiety-free life, which are not real. Jeff Buckley was wrong this time fellas, that was so not real.
Mid-way through his gaslight session, a lovely lady in red shows up and totally does not scare the bejesus out of him.
“So sorry I’m late!” said girl says, and you know what she does. You know what she does? SHE KISSES HIM! Like, a straight out honey, I’m home type kiss.
Damn. So Jeff Buckley was right.
That was so real.
RULE 3: you have two weeks to claim all seventeen kisses.
_______________
Chat Noir, contrary to what a lot of people think due to his slutty cat appearance, is a fine gentleman. He does not entertain any sort of… non-professional thoughts of non-professional activities with his dear strictly professional partner in professional crime.
You could never catch such a man of his standards thinking about making out with said partner for example. Perhaps, once in a while, he might entertain the thought of kissing her but never engaging in a long make-out session with uh his… colleague. A simple kiss is all he imagines and has ever considered doing with her. Just a peck. A little touch of their lips. Nothing more, nothing less.
And really, that is all that he had intended to do but Ladybug and her tendency to make him break his own rules had other plans in mind when she so suddenly decided they should have a movie night of sorts.
She said, get comfy pajamas on, nothing that could somehow reveal your identity and leave the rest to me.
Chat Noir, of course, was ecstatic when he heard those words. And quickly rushed home and tore apart his closet to look for the softest pieces of clothing that he owned. And yeah, now he’s here in this cozy little arrangement that Ladybug set up for them.
Let me set the scene: two teenagers sit in one of IKEA’s showroom living rooms. Pillows. Blankets. A computer playing The Notebook. Snacks that he should not be eating all around him. Her.
Her.
There with her hair down and ladybug-themed pajamas.
Her.
There with two lips.
Like goddam, what can anyone else want right now than to make out with her.
(Mentally, Chat contemplates if he should send smoke signals and beg for help. Perhaps he should report this to the authorities. Feels illegal somehow. To feel this way. To want this.
Since, clearly, Ladybug didn’t see him that way. Maybe she enjoyed kissing him but she had clearly stated in her rules that she would only KISS him. Like singular. No tongue or anything of that sort right. Ha ha. Awkward.
ANYWAYS.
Yeah no making out. It’s bad.
But when the way she keeps on glancing at him like she’s reading his thoughts and wants to do the exact same thing. The way she licks her lips and glances at his, flutterting her long, dark lashes up and down as if she’s trying to flag him down.
Like hey. Go ahead.
Obviously, he’s not going to do anything unless she makes a move first.
And also, they picked a horrible movie to watch in times like these. One hour into the movie and practically all the characters have done is make out. Like intensely. And the camera zooms in and it’s kind of uncomfortable how good this computer’s speaker is. Not to mention, they're in a completely empty warehouse. Alone.
The need to recreate those make-out scenes is powerful.
But the great Chat Noir is far stronger.
Unless that is, Ladybug doesn’t want him to be. He can be weak too.
Ha.
“Wow, they sure like to uh, kiss huh!” Ladybug says as Noah and Ally make out on screen yet again.
Chat lets out an awkward chuckle. “You don’t say…”
“That’s all they seem to do!” She continues, which just leaves him wishing she wouldn’t. That mouth of hers could be used for other things—
“Righttt,” he agrees. “Like how long can someone really make out and not get, I don’t know, bored. Concerns me really.”
“RIGHT??” she practically jumps out of her seat with vivid agreement. “Like, be so for real, can someone really make out for that long and not get tired of it? Ugh, what do they take us for? Fools??”
“Mainstream media is doing it once again,” he sighs in Woke Culture.
“Exactly, like we know better than to believe these unrealistic love standards.” She says in Unemployed.
The “wanna put it to the test” almost slips out way too many times. But he remains strong and continues to rant about how utterly stupid this movie’s depiction of young teen love is as if he doesn’t know for a fact he could never get tired of kissing the girl beside him.
All is fun and games until they reach the end of the movie and they’re both sobbing in each other’s arms.
They stare into the screen as the credits role, the emotional music still playing and they just cry.
“Chat,” Ladybug whispers beside him, her voice teary. “Do you think our love can create miracles?”
“Yes,” he replies, unsure of where she’s going with this. Does she want them to drop dead right now?
“Do you think it could make us like making out for a very long time?” She says.
And Chat loses his fucking mind.
“I do.”
RULE 5: no making out, these are just kisses .
_______________
The newest fan theory: Ladybug has selective amnesia.
Because the next time they meet, she acts like nothing happened.
Chat Noir on the other hand can’t help but fumble every time she just about looks at him, which is a big problem for the whole team.
“Alright, let's try this again ,” Ladybug says, side-eyeing him. “Pigella, Viperion, and Rena, you guys play as akumatize villains. Carapace, Polymouse, Chat , and I will be the miraculous team. Chat, please stop tripping on your baton.”
“I— I don’t know who keeps putting it there!”
Carapace face palms, “YOU do. You’re supposed to throw it at Polymouse so she can trip not roll it back towards you so YOU trip.”
“I still don’t get how it’s possible.” Viperion murmurs.
“Where’s your head, Chat!” Polymouse giggles.
Probably still stuck on last night.
“I ask myself the same question,” Ladybug grumbles.
“Oh, you know where it is!” Chat snaps. He just doesn’t understand how she can continually act like they haven’t been making out for a whole month now. Does she just forget? Does it mean nothing to her? “You know exactly where it is.”
“Chat, don’t do this now,” Ladybug warns him, crossing her arms.
“I just don’t understand you,” He responds, frowning his eyebrows in anger. “Just because it meant nothing to you doesn’t mean it did to me.”
She laughs in disbelief. “Mean nothing to me? Really, Chat? Really?”
“Really, Ladybug. We both know it’s just a little fun thing you do on the side. Sidequest to keep your most “valuable” teammate happy? Wouldn’t be surprised if you did that with everyone else…”
“Do you truly believe that?” Ladybug spats. “Do you really think I’m making out with everyone here to just keep them happy? I’ve continually break my own rules for you again and again— and— god, this is exactly why I didn’t want to agree to that. But you know what, it’s so fucking hard to say no to you! I couldn’t sleep for days because I knew I would end up giving in to your stupid request so I made a plan to moderate and keep myself on the line since I knew I was going to do it anyways. Against my better judgment, at that! And I make a fool of myself again and again, breaking every single one of those stupid rules I made. I gaslight myself into forgetting because fuck, I want to make out with you every second of the day if I do as much as remember it and it’s just not fair because I have a job to do which is incredibly difficult with you and your distracting, kissable lips nearby!”
She takes a deep breath. “So it’s not fair for you to come and say it meant nothing to me when it did. It does . A lot.”
“I–”
“You mean everything to me, Chat, I’m sorry I’ve ever given you the impression that you don’t.” With a last smile, she continues to act like nothing happened.
This time, Chat Noir does the same.
(He tries at least.)
(He fails.)
_______________
It’s not that Ladybug has never gotten mad at him.
She’s been angry at him plenty of times before but this time feels different. It feels final in some way.
This time he messed up in a way that’s probably unforgivable. He insulted her and said mean things that he can’t even bring himself to replay back in his mind. How was he so stupid and self-centered?
Of course, she cared.
He’d felt it in the way she kissed him. He’d seen it with every one of her soft looks. He’d heard it in her voice, in the manner that she whispers his name when they lay beneath the stars. He’d tasted it in the treats she brought him.
Of course, she cares the way he does.
This is Ladybug, a girl who gave up her childhood to save a city.
She is not selfish, she is not careless, and she is not evil.
She’s selfless, she cares wholeheartedly, she is good.
So now it feels final. He lied when he said those things and it’s a rule— Chat Noir may never lie to Ladybug.
Then again, Ladybug had lied to him a lot before. Every time, she said she felt nothing for him or that the kisses were just kisses. Technically she lied with the contract too since they did end up breaking every single one of the rules. But so did he because he had agreed that he would follow through with it and not break any of her conditions.
This was messy.
Very, very messy.
And Chat Noir can’t help but feel powerless
So he just sits there uselessly and pathetically, swinging his legs as he sits on some random building waiting for his partner to arrive. If she even shows. He wouldn’t blame her if she never shows up.
He tries not to think about the whole situation, really, but his thoughts are so loud that nothing can possibly divert his attention away from this horrible mistake.
He should've never asked for those kisses.
But he is glad he did because it got him here. Although, here is not exactly the best place if you know what he means. He could always just jump off the building he supposes. Hm. That sounds like a good idea. But the music is just not right.
Tiredly, he throws his head back — totally not hitting on the roof a little too hard than intended — and picks up his baton. He scrolls through his Spotify home page, looking for a song that will really set the I’m about to jump off a building because I messed up my only chance with the girl of my dreams .
Nothing quite fits the mood but right in the chorus of Sad Girl by Lana Del Rey, Chat
really began to envision the fall. Mind you, he had not moved a muscle from where he was calmly distressing, mostly out of the fear that he had hit his head too hard that the moment he started moving a bunch of blood would spill out his brain and you know that could be really bad but—
Moving along. Ha ha. He was in the middle of creating the tragic scene of his death towards the end of the song when of course his lady love and cause of all distress shows up. He hears the zipping on her yoyo coming closer and closer, but Chat does not move. This is his deathbed, he decides, and nothing can be done about that. He will lay here forever!
He is almost moved from his deathbed when he hears a thud from behind him but he is glued to his spot mainly by the waves of dread holding him hostage.
She is here.
And he has no idea what to do.
So.
This is awkward. He is thinking because of course he is and he is trying his best not to panic but well panicking is what he does best even though he doesn’t show that he is panicking. He wonders if Ladybug knows he is panicking, well, she knows everything so probably! But oh well, it doesn’t matter if she knows, she’s probably feeling the same way?? Should he look back to check?
Nope. Abort! She looks too pretty. Aphrodite nothing compared to this girl! Damn it—
“Chat!” he hears her scream as if she had been previously saying his name. Was she? Oh god. Kill him.
“Chat…” she says again, the annoyance in her voice is clear. “Are you seriously going to ignore me?”
He bolts up from his seat in a second. “Sorry! I didn’t realize you were talking,” he says. Pathetically, of course.
She stares at him with clear amusement but does not comment on that.
“We need to talk,” Chat says. Super duper pathetic. Stating the obvious.
Ladybug shakes her head no. “No—”
“Ladybug, we need to talk! We can’t keep ignoring what's been going on between us please—”
“No.” She repeats. “Not right now.”
And without another word, she hands him a paper. It looks familiar. Too familiar.
It’s the rules.
The seven rules they broke, one by one.
He can’t hide his disappointment. This is where it ends. She’ll remind him of the rules and tell him he broke them even though he promised he wouldn’t. She’ll tell him it was a mistake and that what she said before were just lies to keep the peace between the team. He knows how it ends. It always ends in disappointment.
“Read them,” she says as if he doesn’t already know what they say. “Read them— Chat! Oh, fine, I’ll read them then!”
And then she reads:
- RULE 1: kiss me wherever
- RULE 2: you don’t ever have to ask
- RULE 3: you have forever to claim these kisses
- RULE 4: forever amount of kisses
- RULE 5: let's make out too, lots and lots
- RULE 6: PLEASE kiss me forever and even longer, PLEASE PLEASE
- RULE 7: code word for kissing is kissy kissy meow meow. If you want to ask for one and not make it weird or awkward just say “kissy kissy meow meow” and your kiss shall be given if conditions are suitable (refer to rule one). (never letting this one go!<3)
He does kiss her. Forever.