Jeremiah: Mmh, yeah, I'm speeding this story. For once, everything was written before I start publishing so... why not? I know 1 week it's sometimes a bit long... Besides, there's two others stories I'd like to share with my readers before they broadcast the season 4 finale. So, yes. I'm trying to publish twice or thrice a week. I don't like publishing a lot of stories at the same time. Even If I think I'll need to publish my two other stories at the same time because the final is planned in march in France. So... next month! To answer your question, the rating of this story is mature. And, mature things are kinda... starting at the end of this chapter (smirk).

Good reading to y'all!

CHAPTER 8: after the rain

They say that there's sunshine after rain.

This was not the case for she and Chat Noir because, after the sexual tension that had warmed the room by a few degrees, the atmosphere had quickly cooled down, giving way to a rather severe argument between the two heroes. Chat Noir regularly struck his fists against the table, while Marinette did not calm the octaves of her cries.

Suddenly, she heard her partner's chair creaking against the floor, while the table began to wobble slightly.

"I need to leave the table," Chat sternly declared, his breath strangely short.

Another shake of the table, indicating to Marinette that her partner had bumped against it, before finally seeming to find his way despite the blindfold obstructing his sight.

She dropped her fork on her plate and sighed before hiding her face in her hands, tremors shaking her whole body. Behind her blindfold, her eyes burned as she tried to contain the tears that were beginning to pool inside.

On her shoulder, she felt a comforting presence: Tikki. "Everything will be alright... You are stronger than you think."

"This situation is becoming unbearable, Tikki. It's not me. It's not him. It's not US. It's no longer Chat Noir and me against the world. It's Chat Noir against Ladybug, while the whole world looks on helplessly."

The scarf in front of her eyes became wet, the contained tears breaking the barrier she had tried to set up not to melt, sobbing, in front of the Guardian, who had the kindness to receive them in his house. But, since the latter had left the table during their heated argument, Marinette let herself go without shame as the torrent of emotions overwhelmed her.

"How…"she began, sniffing. "How are we going to settle things between us, if the overdose and its consequences continue to push us away from each other? Little by little, what was between us is shattering in pieces and seems irreparable," she sobbed, a lump in her throat.

"Sometimes you have to fight through some bad days to earn the best days of your life..." whispered a warm and comforting voice right behind her. It was Monsieur de la Fontaine's voice.

At the same time, a faint music came to muffle her cries: a piano tune. She vaguely remembered having seen a piano in the living room of their host, during their previous visit, the day before. Chat Noir... It must have been Chat Noir playing that melody.

Their host's hand came to rest on her arm and she was startled. "Take my arm and come with me," he proposed, helping Marinette to get up.

She was guided to the living room and each step she took blindly brought her closer to the musical notes that rose in the warm house. Soon she found herself right next to the musical source and Monsieur de la Fontaine sat her down on the bench next to her partner. She felt the hero flinch, certainly so deeply immersed in his bubble that he had not heard her approach.

Marinette remained silent, letting herself be carried by the soft sound of the piano, until the notes changed. Her partner began to play more slowly and to hum words that completely captivated her.

"No one knows what it's like

To be the bad man, to be the sad man

Behind blue eyes."

Oh. She shivered, goosebumps spreading down her arms, all the way to her spine. His voice made her feel things she had never felt before and his choice of music was heavy with meaning from the very first words: though difficult for Marinette to hear and take in. Her heart clenched at the mere thought that her partner could believe that through her eyes, she saw him that way: mean and bitter.

She knew that he was the complete opposite and that for the moment, it was mostly the overdose that spoke and acted on his behalf.

"And no one knows what it's like

To be hated

to be fated to telling only lies."

Marinette placed a hand on her teammate's shoulder and gently squeezed it in comfort. She was well placed to understand how heavy the weight of secrets was to carry. It was an honorable daily sacrifice, but one that was difficult for teenagers —young adults now— to withstand. It was a burden they shared. Together.

Their host understood this immediately: the second they confessed to possessing their Miraculous since the age of 13, the Guardian's gaze was filled with understanding, compassion, but also, concern. There was nothing wrong with this reaction, after all, as teenagers, the safety of Paris and the protection of millions of years old magic jewels and Kwamis shouldn't even be the least of their worries. And yet, it was their main concern. It forced them to leave behind their private lives, their first love troubles, their studies, and a whole bunch of other trivialities, which should have been the only problems they really had to worry about.

As a result, they had grown up too quickly, not learning to easily take the blows that life inflicted on 'normal' teenagers. Giving and receiving blows from a supervillain, planning fights, getting into dangerous situations, even putting their lives at risk: they both knew how to do it. However, when it came to communicating and putting words to the discomfort they were both hiding, it was much more complicated, and had been for a long time, even if the recent overdose had only accentuated the gap that had been dug between them.

"No one knows what it's like

To feel these feelings

Like I do, and I blame you

No one bites back as hard on their anger

None of my pain and woe can show through…"

If he was looking for someone to blame, if it was giving him some relief, Marinette was willing to take the blame.

She knew she had hurt the hero's feelings in the past. Even today, defining their relationship was something complicated. Sometimes they loved each other and nothing else existed around them. Sometimes, Adrien's ghost was still present in Marinette's heart and, for Chat Noir, it was the same. His mysterious stranger was, without a doubt, overshadowing his partner and the feline sometimes seemed just as lost as she was as to whether he should get over Ladybug or not. "I love you and I hate you. And it's still quite complicated." Once again, the overdose only made the situation worse.

Softly, Marinette let her head fall on Chat Noir's shoulder and slipped her fingers along his arm, before putting her hand on his with a feather-light caress. He put his head against hers and she heard him take a deep breath, as if he was smelling the scent of her shampoo. She felt his fingers intertwine with his, without ever interrupting their race on the keyboard of the piano. Soon she found herself playing with him one-handed, following his expert fingers over each note.

Chat Noir's voice suddenly became weaker and softer, as if he wanted to whisper the rest of the words exclusively for his partner and wrap them in a bubble of intimacy and serenity that belonged only to them.

"But my dreams, they aren't that empty

As my conscience seems to be..."

Once again the crisis had passed, bringing with it the post-storm rainbow, and its bunch of dreams and hopes.

"...Behind blue eyes"

Monsieur de la Fontaine guided his guests to the stairs that led upstairs. The superhero duo was now calm and collected. It was the perfect time for the Guardian to continue the work he was doing with them and on them.

"The room I've prepared for you is at the top of the stairs, down the hall on your right."

"Only one room?" inquired Marinette, bewildered.

"It's a modest house, not an inn, young Lady."

The poet saw the young woman blush and she apologized.

"It's here that I abandon you. I'm sure that together you will manage to find the way without me. You must be used to following each other blindly, right?"

He was sure he had a point, because neither of his two guests dared to protest against his words.

"By the way, no Kwamis to serve as your eyes. Plagg, Tikki, please stay with me."

The two Kwamis of Creation and Destruction complied, joining their counterparts from the past.

"I wish you a pleasant night." He walked away, leaving the duo standing at the first step of the stairs and, without making a sound, watched them carefully.

"We've already faced much worse than this," the young hero whispered to his partner. "Take my hand, we will go slowly: step by step."

She slipped her hand into his and sighed.

"A staircase, no visibility,... You don't know me very well, Chaton. I don't think there's a more fitting obstacle for me," she whimpered in a desperate voice.

"Now that you mention it: I remember you introducing yourself as 'madly clumsy' the day we met. Do you really have two left feet?"

"Two left feet, two left hands, head to the left, and that's an understatement," she grunted as she placed her free hand against the wall and took the first step.

The poet observed their slow ascent, perfectly controlled, until the last step became a problem. Indeed, the young ladybug's clumsiness struck and she slipped on the last step, tipping dangerously backwards.

"Careful, Milady!"

It was the sharp reflexes—even without his powers—of her partner, who caught her in his wide open arms, without even blinking or wavering.

"I knew that one day you would end up falling for me, but I would prefer that it is without the risk of hurting you," he laughed, using his body like a shield to protect her.

She burst out laughing and turned in his arms, placing a kiss on his cheek "Thanks for the save, you dork."

"Whenever you need it. I'll be there to catch you. Whatever it takes," he confessed sincerely.

"In that case, I'll have to remember to thank you with more kisses every time you catch me."

"Can I push you down the stairs right now?" he chuckled.

She laughed out loud, her laugh echoing around them. "You're incorrigible."

"Incorrigible is my middle name," he giggled as he finally dragged her down the upper floor hallway.

The Guardian watched them disappear from his sight, a satisfied and approving smile drawn on his face.

"Well, trust isn't a problem. This test was a great success," he murmured to the kwamis near him.

"Two lovebirds who have been in love with each other since the beginning but without knowing it?" asked Plagg to his twin from the future.

"Good insight"

"Typical."

"I found the bed!"

"I think I found the... tub. And judging by the proximity of the sound of your voice... This one is right at the foot of the bed," Marinette pointed out.

She trailed her hands along the tub before deducing that it was a large basin, probably made of metal or copper.

"If you want to take a bath, I can wait in the hallway. "

She shrugged.

"Or I could just use Fluff's power and go take a real shower at home," she noted.

"Remember, no Kwamis. No Tikki means no Ladybug…"

" ...And no access to the Miracle Box and its Miraculouses," she sighed. "I'll have to use the basin then."

"Meouch! It's hot!"

Marinette gasped, surprised by her partner's voice, which was louder than before: he had probably gotten closer to her during their discussion by following the sound of her voice.

"I think I found the water heater."

"The water heater?" she repeated ignorantly.

"The copper jug that holds the water," he explained.

"And the water inside is still hot?"

"Judging by how hot the jug is, yes," he said, and at the same time she heard the sound of water pouring into the basin. "Copper can hold heat for many hours. The housemaid must have come to fill it while we were eating," he supposed.

"Did you just fill my bath?" She wondered, feeling the steam rising to her face. She dipped her hand into the tub, the warm water tickling her fingertips and making her sigh with contentment.

"Oh... Yes. Sorry. It was heavy to lift, so I did it for you," he justified himself, looking sheepish. "I'll wait in the corridor. I'll let you enjoy—"

Suddenly interrupting Chat Noir's apologetic monologue, she grabbed the hem of her top, and pulled it over her head, throwing it in her partner's supposed direction.

"—your bath..." he finished, clearly out of breath. "Are you taking your clothes off?" he swallowed loudly.

"You're blindfolded and you can't see anything, right?"

"Right," he breathed in a hoarse voice.

"Then it's useless to make you wait in the corridor," she murmured, throwing her pants at his feet.

Her underwear took the same path and she slipped slowly in the hot water, moaning pleasantly at the sensation of heat which now wrapped her tired body.

As she finally allowed herself to relax, Marinette heard the mattress creak slightly, the weight of her partner probably spreading on it: he too must have been just as exhausted as she was by all these time travels. It was necessary to admit that it left them not much time to rest or think about their own person.

Her fingers ran blindly along the edge of the basin and she found a loofah sponge, which she slowly rubbed along her numb body.

"Chat?"

He hummed slowly, giving her the cue that he was listening.

"Are you thinking about me, naked and relaxing in this hot bath?" She asked, her voice surprisingly serene.

"What?!" he exclaimed sharply, straightening up, making the mattress creak again. "I wouldn't da—"

"Chaton…" she protested, without any judgment in her voice.

"Fine. I was thinking about you, lying wet and naked in the bath, hair spread in the water, eyes closed as the warm water caresses your attractive body," he confessed, his voice thick with longing.

Marinette moaned appreciatively and gently let the loofah slide down her chest to her lower belly.

"Do you like what you imagine, Chaton?"

Her voice was so sensual and deep, she barely recognized it.

"Milady, what game are you playing?" he almost choked while inquiring about her intentions.

"I'm curious, that's all." She shrugged.

Her hand ventured lower and she let out a moan as the sponge skimmed her crotch, then her inner thigh.

"Are you… fuck. Bug, are you touching yourself?"

"Hm," she hummed. "We deserve to take a little break and relax a bit after all we're going through, don't you think?" She asked. "Take off your pants, Minou."

Piano scene, my beloved! Some smut starting to take place at the end of the chapter... I think this chapter is one of my favorite! Things are getting exciting! I hope it is as exciting for you than for me! See you on Friday for the next chapter!