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Him

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The first sign of civilization was not what he expected.

They had been walking, yo-yoing or carefully catapulting for nearly an hour when the forest split apart, earth rising to concrete. The corner of a familiar building broke through the trees, not quite high enough for them to notice until they were on top of it.

Ladybug came to a dead stop mid-swing and Chat Noir nearly smacked into her, having to somersault to the side in order to avoid a collision.

"Is that…?" His eyes wandered up and he swore he could smell croissants still baking.

"The Dupain-Cheng's bakery," said Ladybug. She sounded flat and stiff and he imagined the wheels in her head churning, trying to put things together.

Evergreens reached over the rooftop balcony, their branches low and scraping the shade strewn above Marinette's pink lawn chair. Something bubbled from Chat Noir's stomach up to his throat and his voice came out nearly as flat as Ladybug's.

"Marinette lives there."

Ladybug's yo-yo was already connecting with a towering tree that hovered right outside the entrance and, in a mere second, she had swung through the front door.

"Mo-Mr. Dupain!" she called, voice echoing from inside. "Mrs. Dupain-Cheng?"

Chat Noir took off after her, staff drawn.

Inside the display was lined with sweets and bread so fresh they made his stomach growl. Nothing seemed out of place. The cat ears on his head twitched, searching for voices, but the only sound he heard was Ladybug's footsteps, storming up the stairs to the home above.

He double checked the bakery kitchen before following, eyes skirting over all the details like they had every time he had visited the Dupain-Cheng home, as both Chat Noir and himself. There was a sort of cluttered hominess about it. Picture frames and knick knacks crowded shelves; bright, warm colors brought life to every corner. It was so different from the cold stark hallways of the Agreste mansion, where each item of decor had its own space, sparse and far from the next.

Chat Noir felt the cat ears fall flat against his head. He shook them back in place and tried not to think about home.

After a brief search, he found Ladybug in Marinette's room.

"I...um," he cleared his throat, stunned, "didn't see anyone. What are you doing?"

Ladybug gave a groan and shut down Marinette's laptop. "Checking to see if the internet worked. No such luck." She immediately slid the rolling chair to the side and started digging through dresser drawers.

Chat Noir closed his baton and tucked it behind him. "Isn't that kind of, uh… invasive?" he asked, stepping up to look over her shoulder.

Fabrics came unfolded beneath Ladybug's polka-dotted hands. "About as invasive as boys snooping around her room," she grumbled.

He gave her his best grin even though she wasn't looking. "What about adorable kitty-cats?"

She rolled her eyes, but didn't take them off the task at hand. "Just don't cough up a hairball on anything."

Chat Noir took that as permission to explore. He'd been in Marinette's room a handful of times now, but it never got old. Just like the rest of the Dupain-Cheng residence there were odds and ends everywhere, each bright and useful and beautiful.

His eyes flashed above Marinette's bed to the corkboard housing her pictures and magazine cut outs. He found himself there, but not nearly to the degree as before. Just a couple of his modeling shoots and group photos with their friends. It made him feel fuzzy, like a river of warmth had spread from his chest.

"Marinette is super talented," he said, more to himself than Ladybug. He touched a pattern draped over her chaise, careful not to use his claws.

The design was modeled after a traditional Chinese cheongsam, but the material was cut too short, draping down only long enough to rest on a model's hips.

"Is this a jacket?" he wondered out loud.

"Looks like it."

Ladybug's voice was on his shoulder. Chat Noir nearly jumped out of his skin, which of course he had to comment on once his heart stopped racing.

"Sneaky bug." He put a hand to his chest. "You nearly skinned this cat."

She gave him a sort of sideways smile and then her eyes slid to the fabric, now clenched in his fist. "Don't ruin that."

"Sorry!" He let it go, smoothing the material and checking it for holes from his claws. There were two pulls in the silk, leaving a deep blue thread hanging across a pink lily. "Ugh, I am so glad your ladybugs fix everything."

"Me too," she said. Whatever she had been searching for must have been found because she looked like she had nothing more to do. Her eyes swept over him. "You really are into fashion, huh?"

"What? No." Chat Noir's tail twitched behind him as he shoved the material back onto Marinette's chaise. "Nope, not at all. What made you think that?"

"You looked like a walking advertisement for Gabriel Agreste this morning."

"Ha!" Chat Noir burst out loudly and then he let out a few painfully awkward chuckles while his mind spun a cover. "Presents. From my dad."

It was weird not to say father. Dad felt too intimate, but it made it easier to concoct his imaginary family and he immediately felt guilty when he wished they were real.

"He likes to think he's my wingman. Says girls dig the big brands. Ha." Chat Noir wiped the back of his hand under his nose so he could rearrange his face and his mouth reemerged with a flirty grin. "So, did the vision leave you needing a shovel?"

Ladybug's mask rose sideways with her hidden brow, but she didn't discourage him like usual and that, in itself, discouraged him. The night of cuddling in the cold felt far behind them.

His belt-tail slid downward, but he kept the smile on his face. He turned back to Marinette's design and imagined it on her, the dark blue matching her eyes.

"It really is pretty," he said, feeling a sort of prick of pain deep in his chest. "It suits her."

His eyes flashed back to Ladybug. He wanted to say, "you too," but her cheeks were already flushed like he did.

Once they were positive the coast was clear, they raided the bakery.

"I feel sorta guilty," Chat Noir said through a mouthful of quiche.

"I wouldn't." Ladybug licked chocolate off her thumb and he had to look away. "The Dupain-Chengs love us."

"You maybe."

Ladybug looked strangely guilty. "I thought you said Mr. Dupain apologized after the Weredad thing?"

"Sure, but I doubt he loves me." Chat Noir helped himself to another piece of fresh quiche, finding himself near tears as his empty stomach growled happily. "So good."

He swallowed too quickly and felt a lump in his throat. "I doubt Marinette is my biggest fan anymore either. I hope they're okay."

Ladybug chewed on her lip for a minute before finishing off her chocolate filled croissant. Then she disappeared into the kitchen.

"Why do you think their bakery is here anyway?" Chat Noir asked.

"I think the akuma is exchanging Paris for the woods," she called back over the sound of clinking dishes. "Remember how trees were popping up where buildings used to be? Her power is trading the wilderness with the city."

"Makes sense." Chat Noir said, swallowing down more quiche as he followed her into the kitchen. She seemed completely at ease raiding the Dupain-Cheng's cupboards and for some reason that made him grin a little. "The food definitely takes time travel out of the equation. I wonder what replaced us? A couple of bushes?"

"Or thorns."

"In her side," he chuckled. "Nice one."

Smiling, Ladybug turned around with two mugs in her hands and offered one to him. "Coffee?"

Chat Noir let out a sigh of appreciation and took a sip. "Still hot. Treehugger must still be in Paris, sapping away."

"Did you just—nevermind."

He grinned when she rolled her eyes and the two of them took some time to enjoy their drinks. It almost felt normal, being there with her. He found himself wishing they had more quiet moments like this, free of akumas and filled with food.

"What made you think Marinette isn't your fan?"

Chat Noir nearly spit out his coffee. Ladybug's smile had slipped into such a hurt expression that he felt guilty and he didn't even know why.

"I'm, I don't, I mean we're friends, I think, but I just…"

"She definitely considers you a friend."

"How do you know?"

She blinked and took a long sip of her coffee before answering. "Multimouse. She said she couldn't wait to work with you. She talked about how great you were when you rescued her dad, and that time with her grandpa," she started to count on her fingers, "her grandma, Glaciator, Evillustator… I think I'm missing a couple. That girl sure gets in a lot of trouble."

Heat flooded into Chat Noir's cheeks and then, before he allowed himself to dissect that more, he dissected something else.

"Do you know her?" He tapped the mug with his claws. "I mean—"

"I know what you mean and you know I can't answer that."

His ears went low. "Aren't you the guardian now?"

"Chat—"

"Master Fu knew who we were. The same rules don't apply anymore, do they?"

"I don't—"

"You said you trust me."

"Kitty."

"Beetle."

She snorted. "That's a new one."

"That's your name when I'm angry with you," he pouted.

"Tikki said—"

"I don't care." His claws scraped against the mug. He looked down, staring at the ripples in the black liquid inside. "I know you're amazing and you always manage to save the day, but what if I'm not the one to take the fall? What if I mess up and the akuma gets you… what if I need help?"

Ladybug stayed quiet for a moment. "I think—"

Before she finished he realized he didn't want to hear her answer: the reasons why they still couldn't know each other completely.

"I know Master Fu chose you to be the Guardian," he blurted, "and I'm just the guy helping you out, but I need to be able to save you too."

Chat Noir could hear Ladybug put down her mug and before he dared to look, her gloved hands slid over his fingers, taking his away. There were long scratches in the paint from his claws and he felt guilty for ruining something else of the Dupain-Cheng's. He stared at his boots and could hear the clink of the mug joining hers on the counter.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I just—"

"You've already saved me. Too many times." Her arms slid around his chest and her hands wrapped behind his shoulder blades, pulling him in tight. "You're my partner, Chat Noir. Not just anything. I thought you knew that."

He felt himself melt into her embrace. "Thanks," he muttered, letting his arms drape over her shoulders. "But I'm still mad at you, Beetle."

"I really hate that new nickname," she mumbled into his chest.

"More than bugaboo?"

"I don't like it when you're mad at me."

Chat Noir smiled. They stood there for a long moment, among the smell of coffee and fresh croissants and he felt strangely at home, lost with her.

"Your hair smells like firewood," he mumbled after awhile.

"I can feel you purring."

He blushed. "Totally not a thing."

"I'm never hugging you again." But she didn't let go and he swore she squeezed even tighter. "We'll figure this out, okay?"

He let out a low sigh. "Okay."

"Together, Chat."

He let go first and returned her concerned frown with a grin.

"Always, Ladybug."

He put out his fist and she didn't hesitate to meet his knuckles with her own.