Five: Nightmares

Chat couldn't believe that any of this was real.

Lying on his side, mane propped up on a paw, he watched as Marinette slept, one of the most perfectly beautiful sights he'd ever seen in his short twenty-three years on Earth. Her hair had cascaded down around her lovely face, and he was tempted to reach a claw out to push it back behind an ear but worried about disturbing his sleeping princess. Smiling a bit, he fully understood why she had finally dozed off, knowing he'd played a rather large part in wearing her out. Taking care of her had become his passion – double entendre notwithstanding – one he'd treated with the same attention to detail as any of Ladybug's most complicated Lucky Charms had required.

Thinking of Ladybug brought up complicated emotions that he'd not fully sorted through, yet. He'd known for years now that his partner, despite how she might appear to feel about him, had no desire to go beyond the deep friendship the two had enjoyed for more than a decade. Chat couldn't blame her, really; he'd watched enough movies to know how taking a friendship to the next level could make or break some relationships, and though he was certain theirs would only be better, if he were being honest, Chat knew he would do anything to keep the friendship alive. If that meant looking for love elsewhere, so be it.

No, the true nightmare would be losing his connection to Ladybug.

Although, as he allowed his night vision to shift to normal so he could take in how the moonlight streaming through Marinette's open patio doors made her skin the color of porcelain, he was starting to think that he might need to re-evaluate that idea, for as the weeks had passed and his feelings for Marinette deepened, it was becoming clear to him that his entire universe was centered on the raven-haired beauty that had taken a chance on a lonely man in a catsuit.

And had he been lonely.

Glancing to his baton propped up on the nightstand, he could see it was still early; he had a few hours before he'd need to make his way back to the mansion and begin his day as the dutiful son to the fashion mogul of Paris. He frowned slightly at the lie he had told Marinette a few weeks earlier; for whatever reason, he'd been too embarrassed to admit he still lived at home, though he'd lied to himself, too, trying to rationalize it would reveal something about his civilian self that she shouldn't know. At least, not yet.

It wasn't entirely by choice; Gabriel Agreste controlled his empire like a dictator, and Adrien was but one small part. Living with his father had simply made it easier to ensure the supermodel was at his beck and call, no matter the hour. Dating had been out of the question, unless it had aligned with a project his father was pursuing; he'd lost count of how many women had been thrown into his life only to have them yanked away the moment he'd started to develop feelings for them. Unprofitable attachments seemed to be a problem for Gabriel Agreste, his own marriage notwithstanding.

Chat looked at the ring on his paw, and the softly glowing pawprint. The freedom the Cat Miraculous had brought him had only been slightly tempered by the awesome duty he fulfilled daily in protecting Paris; it was a small price to pay in order to be free of his father's demands, if for but a few hours at a time.

Shifting, he allowed his tail to tighten slightly around Marinette's leg, a hug of sorts he'd discovered she found endearingly cute. Chat had worried about the increasing amounts of time he was remaining transformed, but Plagg had assured him (much as he had years ago) that he could keep him transformed indefinitely short of using his secret superpower – though even that didn't seem to drain the kwami the way it once did, now that Chat had grown into his full abilities. Much like the adult Bunnix he had met many, many years earlier, it was possible for Chat to manipulate his Cataclysm in ways large and small; certainly, it had made it easier not having to immediately recharge Plagg in the midst of battle. There were limits, of course – and he still kept a massive supply of Camembert on hand, much to the chagrin of the household staff back at the mansion.

Unable to resist his feline urges, he finally gave in and reached over to snag the lock of hair covering Marinette's sculpted eyebrow, carefully brushing it away; despite his gentle touch, her eyes flicked open, those deep blue pools of compassion locking firmly on his masked feline green ones. She smiled slightly and reached to his bell, pulling him close enough for a soft kiss. Taking that as tacit encouragement, Chat shifted beneath the sheet, slowly turning Marinette to her back so he could take up position above her.

She looked up at him, her hair forming a dark halo about her head as she lay against the pillow of her bed. Chat gazed down at her, then leaned a bit closer, savoring the exotic scent that was Marinette: a complex mix of vanilla and other exotic spices uniquely identifying his girlfriend. His wild mane fell forward as he leaned even further, allowing him to just touch the tip of his exposed nose to hers; he felt himself smile as she reached up to tap his bell with her finger, sending a gentle tinkle, tinkle out into the room.

Smiling wider, Marinette carefully gripped his bell and pulled him down, clearly intent on continuing what had begun quite a few hours earlier when he'd carried her to the bedroom from what passed for a dining area in her tiny studio apartment. Chat had surprised her with takeaway from an Indian restaurant his feline nose had located during patrol one night years earlier; like the café he'd taken her to, the black cat was a semi-regular patron able to use the back entrance when the mood struck.

Chat's eyes flew open and then squeezed shut when Marinette suddenly reached up and began to gently run her fingers along a feline ear; she'd figured out pretty early on it was like kitty kryptonite, making him putty in her hands. Clearly that had been her intent, for before he realized what had happened, he was the one on his back, looking up at a woman wearing a sly smiled and holding a devilish glint in her eye. Oddly, it felt perfectly natural for him to cede control to Marinette, almost as if they were connected on an entirely new wavelength that wasn't actually altogether new.

He woke up somewhat later, the warmth of the sun permeating his magical leather such that the world writ large threatened to fade away once more; all that stopped him from taking another short catnap was the smell of freshly brewed coffee and, if his feline nose wasn't wrong, scrambled eggs with breakfast potatoes. Prying a masked eye open, Chat yawned before giving himself over to a full-body feline stretch, popping a joint or two in the process before ultimately rolling off the bed. Stretching his arms above his head, he yawned again as he grabbed his baton and then rounded the small divider Marinette had placed between her bed and the main space. Rubbing the stubble along his chin, he smiled as he saw her puttering around the kitchen, clad in an overly large Chat Noir logoed t-shirt she'd found at a novelty store and her lovely hair tied into a long ponytail.

Glancing again at his baton before closing it and sliding it home at the small of his back, he figured he still had time for breakfast – but he'd need to kick into a higher gear to ensure he'd returned to the mansion before his presence was missed. Any other day and it wouldn't be an issue, but that morning, he was due to be driven out to Versailles for a catalog spread featuring lots of exposed skin and the latest iteration of his alter-ego's namesake fragrance – a scent he personally couldn't stand. Why they made him wear the damn fragrance when it was a photo shoot was beyond him; it was a nightmare scrubbing the scent from his body, requiring far more body gel than was available in the entire industrialized world.

The things he did for fashion…

Quietly, he snuck up behind Marinette and at the last minute pounced on her, pulling her into a warm embrace as she squeaked in surprise. The squeaks in turn became one kiss, then another; the look he had seen in her eyes from earlier returned, and he sighed.

"I can't," he apologized. "Not this morning."

Marinette took his paws into her hands. "Well, I'm glad at least one of us is still working," she replied softly.

While he'd not revealed anything specific, he had told her his alter-ego was gainfully employed; that his monthly calendar had been on the wall by her bed that first night weeks ago had been a bit awkward, but it had since disappeared, replaced by one of generic flowers. Though he'd not yet had the courage to ask her about it, Chat was pretty sure he understood the significance of the disappearance.

If only she knew – she'd finally managed to snag Adrien Agreste.

"I had a thought about that," Chat said, picking up her hand and kissing it softly. "Do you have anything on your schedule for tonight?"

"Other than pining away for my feline boyfriend?" she laughed.

"Boyfriend," he sighed. "I like that word. Except I'm a cat."

"Well, 'catfriend' doesn't really have the same cachet," she pointed out.

"Anyway," he continued, "I have patrol tonight with Ladybug, but afterward, I'd like to take you to a spot I love and share my idea with you. It'll be pretty late, but the moon's full tonight, so it would be purrfect."

Marinette smiled a knowing smile, one that she seemed to get when he mentioned his partner. "Sure," she replied. "I'll take a catnap this afternoon so I can be wide-awake for our escapade. Do I need to bring anything?"

"Nope."

She eyed him closely. "What do you have up your sleeve?"

Holding up his magical black leather clad arms, he smiled. "Absolutely nothing, as you can clearly see."

"You, Chat Noir, are a terrible liar," Marinette reminded him before tapping him on the nose.

"Guilty as charged," he laughed. "What's the penalty?"

"I don't know," she replied, "but I'll think of something. Now come on, let's feed that rumbling stomach of yours before you have to take off."

"It's not—" he started a fraction of a second before his stomach did, indeed, rumble. Loudly. "Ah."

"See?" Marinette smiled widely. "I know my kitty better than he thinks."

"That you do," he replied softly, knowing she probably did – in more ways than she, herself, might understand. "That you do…"