Chapter Text
They were sitting together on a random Parisian roof top, the way they did often after a quiet patrol.
It was the second year after Hawkmoth’s defeat, so the days they spent with each other were considerably less than it used to be.
Some parts of this brought welcoming changes for Cat Noir, who had managed to subdue his affections for his lady.
She was still strong, amazing, and beautiful—especially when a soft breeze picked up a piece of her hair and when the moon lit her from behind—but his heart panged whenever she spoke of him as her partner. Exclusively.
Cat was no stranger to her wordings. Whilst the younger him often mistook her words for something more, and a possibility of something happening between the two of them, he knew better than before.
Ladybug would need Cat Noir, but only because they had the best synergy when fighting akumas in battle. Over time, the team had expanded with the aggression Hawkmoth amplified per attack, but they were always going to be Ladybug and Cat Noir.
So he stayed in the moment with her, a knee drawn for his elbow to lean on, sneaking glances at the peaceful expression on her face.
He knew this period was one of bliss, especially after finding out that she had regretted being appointed guardian a couple years back.
“It’s my fault Master Fu had to relinquish his position, Cat,” she had whispered to him. They had gathered at the top of the Eiffel Tower after Ladybug had paged him through her yoyo. Obviously shaken up by the events of the day, she hadn’t hesitated, this time, to drop herself into his arms.
His gloved hands rubbed slow circles on her back as her sobs tore his heart out.
“It’s not your fault, Ladybug,” he told her again and again. Because they were young, and should have room to mess up at times. Only, this one had been a mess up far too great for her.
Even as he comforted her, it hadn’t been lost to him that what Master Fu had done was seriously messed up.
Cat didn’t realize it then, because he was used to having secrets kept from him. There had been his father, for one.
He just couldn’t wrap his head around why Master Fu had been so adamant on keeping their identities hidden from one another. Adrien had had a number of times when he wanted someone to vent to. Plagg tried, but there was a limit to the emotional reassurance he often craved from a real person.
Too many adults around him have failed him as a younger teen, messing up his trust issues. One would think that many times getting burned by the people you trusted would have caused him to stop believing in people, but his mother’s words always came to him.
You never know what the other person had gone through, Adrien. It’s best to treat each other with kindness.
What mother didn’t take into account was how he’d take her words as the absolute truth. Without knowing it, he had been giving himself to everyone—even those that didn’t really deserve it. He just thought it was so natural—a given—to replicate the way he would have wanted to be treated.
When his father had been alive, this kindness was further reinforced by his occupation forced upon him.
Modeling wasn’t difficult. It just…brought out the worst parts of society at times. Adrien was a growing teen with cravings, like any other his age, but father forced a dietary plan on him.
He wasn’t stupid. This wasn’t just a diet, but another way for his father to control him without physically seeing him.
That’s why his life as Cat Noir brought him much more relief than Adrien Agreste. Though going to school has brought him so much more variety and fun, there was still a part of him that felt trapped. All his schedules commenced as usual, and he wasn’t allowed to go anywhere without Gorilla.
The most fun he had as his civilian self was anything impulsive and a little rebellious, because he was never allowed to do anything like that in his own house.
Imagine his surprise when he visited Nino’s and realized it was possible to let loose and have fun at home.
When Adrien had learned from Ladybug that his father had died a hero, he was sure he had heard it wrong. Knowing his father’s disposition, it felt more fitting having him be the villain.
But his lady had repeated herself with shuddering breaths. With his shock and grief and anger, he threw hurtful words at her, believing this was all a nightmare.
Though the fear often overtook his love and appreciation for his father, a part of him had still wanted to remember him as the one that took him to sundaes on Sundays. It was still his fondest memories, making a makeshift pillow fortress with him on nights he couldn’t fall asleep.
Those memories were the ones that clouded his eyes as the entire world grieved the loss of Gabriel Agreste.
And Adrien Agreste lived on as an orphan, used-to-be-sought-after-model, and a regular civilian like others.
While the world continued spinning, he began losing color. Amidst plagued dreams and cold sweat, he kept his troubles to himself.
Being Cat, and staying in the presence of his lady helped soothe his worries out. It reminded him that while with her, he wasn’t going to die alone.
Perhaps that’s what prompted him to ask, because he just wanted a real connection. Beyond those that knew him as Gabriel Agrestes’ son or a celebrity, Adrien wanted someone, anyone to truly see him.
He had never been the one to ask for anything, so he allowed selfishness this once.
“M’lady?”
A soft hmm answered him, and her eyes met his curiously, “What’s up, kitty?”
“I want to ask you something.”
Maybe there was something in his gaze that felt different, because she sat up a little straighter, “Okay…Is everything alright Cat?”
He could laugh bitterly and tell her that he’s been feeling the best that he could for the past two years, but he didn’t want to spring this negativity onto her. He also wanted to respect her desire to keep their identities a secret. “Yea.” A split second decision caused his mouth to draw itself into a stiff line, and he sighed, messing up his hair.
“No. Not really.”
She was immediately alarmed from the frown that made its way through his mask. A hand reached over to gently touch his forearm, and he drew strength from her.
“Cat, tell me. I want to help you.”
And it was uncharacteristic for him to show weakness after so long, but he couldn’t hide the tears that sprung into his eyes from her warmth. When was the last time anyone asked him how he was doing?
A short encounter appeared in mind, and Marinette’s concerned eyes wove in.
He lowered his head, hoping he’d have enough will to keep the teardrops from falling.
“I know we agreed a long time ago not to reveal our identities, but what if we make a deal?”
Ladybug’s other arm joined the one that was already on his forearm. She looked troubled, and flustered, “Cat, about that, I’ve been thinking—”
He gave her a small smile, and she stopped speaking, “It’s unfair for me to keep pushing, but I think it’s past saying Hawkmoth is the reason why we cannot know who each other are.”
Ladybug shook her head, “No, Cat, I wanted to say that I understand.” The hands on his forearm moved to grip his hand, and she interlocked their hands.
She bit her bottom lip, like the other times when she’s thought something through, “We’re past that. There’s no more threat.” He tried to ignore the butterflies that wanted to make their way out.
Her hands were warm through the leather materials.
“Tell me,” she told him, and he admired the beauty in her eyes that spoke to him in length.
“36 questions.” He swallowed, feeling his world hone onto her for this moment, “I’ll ask you 36 questions, and if you fall in love with me by the end of it, we will tell each other who we are.”
Surprise flitted her features, and the sparks in her eyes danced. He wanted to join her, but kept his eyes on hers. Cat wanted to read her, know her, see her for who she was.
Because he loved Ladybug still, but wanted to fall in love with the girl behind the mask, too.
Long ago, he had told her he would love her, even if she didn’t believe his words. Now, he wanted to give them both a chance to know levels of each other they couldn’t have touched before.
At least there was one good thing that came out of Hawkmoth’s defeat.
“Okay,” she breathed, and her palms squeezed his. “36 questions.”
“When should we start?” She asked.
He smiled, and this one felt more sincere than the ones he had to show earlier in the day. “Friday night? We can meet at our usual spot.”
She nodded, giving their hands a firm shake. “Friday night.”
And when the moon fully lit up her silhouette in mysterious art, he had to catch his breath at how ethereal she looked. With his heart pumping steadily, he watched her yoyo away, knowing that whatever happened by the end of their 36 questions, it would never change what he felt for her.