Chat leaned against the wall, watching her work, letting himself stare. She purified and freed each Akuma, one at a time. It was painstaking work and there was a limit to how much she could do in a day. She seemed intent on crossing that line today.
She was already tired. The fight at the Gala had to have taken up a lot of her energy but she'd told him she would feel better if she cleansed a few of the Akuma. She had shown up at his window angry. She didn't seem to be angry with him. It was a less directed kind of frustration. Between opening jars, she would throw out theories about Hawkmoth.
His buzzing thrill from the party and the kiss was gone. He was worried about her. She was throwing all her frustration at the Akuma collection and finally her miracle stone beeped at her. It sounded even more like a warning than it usually did.
"They'll still be here tomorrow," he said.
"I can do one more today," she said.
"No, no, rest for a minute. A little catnap maybe," he said.
He reached up and took her hand, stilling her so she couldn't reach for another jar without pulling away from him. She surprised him by sitting down beside him. She folded her knees up under her and took a long shaky breath in. She sat with her head down and her eyes shut and didn't look like his Ladybug at all. She looked small and tired and overwhelmed. The white akuma, little butterflies and nothing else, still fluttered around the room. They hadn't let them out yet. She didn't seem to notice them.
He tugged on her hand, trying to pull her attention back to him. Instead, she kept her head down and folded into him. Her head landed on his shoulder and she leaned against him like he was the only thing keeping her from falling apart entirely. Their hands were still together and he wasn't sure who started it but their fingers were laced. He wrapped his other arm around her and held her close.
"Do you want to stay here tonight?" he asked.
She nodded and said nothing. He'd meant it half as a joke. The last time he'd invited her back to his place, she had kicked him off a roof. He didn't know what to say to her like this.
"Do you need anything?" he asked.
"Just tired," she said.
"Not because of this," he said waving at the butterflies.
She stayed close to him.
"Talk to me, Bug," he said to the top of her head.
"Have you ever wanted something and then when you get it it's just awful?" she asked.
Another beep. Three more before she wasn't Ladybug anymore. She wasn't moving.
"I have been working for this job for years. Years. I did all the extra projects. I wrote all the letters and did all the volunteer work. I did everything right and it paid off. I got into the program which isn't easy on its own. I got the job I wanted," she said.
"And you don't like it?" he asked.
"Everyone is terrible. Every success is at someone else's expense, someone else's failure is an 'opportunity' and I don't know how anyone lives like this. I had made friends when I first got there but they're all gone. The nice ones quit and the others hate you if you succeed or try to set you up so you fail. And every time I turn around there is another Akuma. Another perfectly nice person that's been twisted into a monster over something stupid and petty like ruined shoes or being kicked out of the museum. People are going to get hurt. You could have gotten hurt tonight. I can't fix any of it. Nothing," she said.
Another beep. Two left.
"You fix it every day. You give those people back their lives, you make sure they don't hurt the people they love. You're wonderful. Truly wonderful. You probably make all those people at your job better just by sitting near them at the lunch table," he said which got him a weak little laugh but not an answer. She was silent and close.
"Did you mean it, that I could stay?" she asked.
"Any time, I'll give you the whole bedroom if you want it," he said.
He pulled her up and pushed her into his room. She came and went by the fire escape rather than the front door and he'd almost gotten over the weird fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach that came with seeing her sitting at his window or leaning against his bed frame while she talked. Almost. He pointed at the bathroom and she disappeared into it before the transformation wore off. Having her in his room, as herself was even worse on his nerves than having her as Ladybug.
She was a mystery. That girl on the other side of the door, with her stressful job and her dead father. He could probably find out her name. He could sit down and go through news reports until he found all the names of all the families who had lost someone that day. He didn't even need to do that much, he could just open the door.
He didn't do either no matter how much the curiosity gnawed at him.
She had offered that information once and he could wait until she was ready to offer it again. He didn't need to take it from her. Some day she would trust him that much again. He wanted that more than he wanted the name.
He wanted her to tell him more than he wanted to know.
He stopped by the dresser and pulled out a pair of flannel pajama pants that would be comically long on her but it seemed like something that you might offer a friend at a sleepover. The first t-shirt he pulled out was a soccer jersey with his name across the back and he stuffed that back in and picked a plain blue one she could wear. He left it all on the bed and retreated to the living room. Still Chat Noir. He was not thinking straight enough to decide whether or not to change back so he just stayed.
"These do not fit you," her voice came from the other side of the door, "These are as long as I am tall. You're tall but you aren't that tall."
"Maybe I'm taller when I'm not transformed," he said.
"I wish that one worked for me. If you were tall enough for these to fit, you'd have to be 8 feet, you wouldn't fit through doorways," she said.
"Professional basketball player, that's me," he said.
"That explains the fancy apartment, you make millions every game, right?" she said. She laughed and he pictured her with the pajamas pooling around her ankles. She was probably adorable. They probably hung low on her hips so she had to hike them up. He pushed the thought away but it kept teasing at his attention.
"Yup," he said.
She was quiet for a little while and he thought maybe she'd gone to bed. He'd got her a pair of pajamas to wear but he hadn't gotten anything for himself. Jeans and the sofa for him, then.
"Chat?" her voice was softer, less sure, less confident. He crept toward the door. Plain, not quite white, a gold doorknob, the same as it always was except she was on the other side of it.
"Yes, my Lady," he said.
"It's your bed, I feel rude making you sleep on the couch," she said.
"Tonight, it's yours," he said.
"Or we could share?" The words came out slow and uneasy and he was pretty sure he'd misunderstood her but she was rushing on, "Like the sleeping sand day, just us, just together, it doesn't have to be anything else."
"Anything you want," he said as his heart pounded and tried to climb up his throat and strangle him.
"I don't want to be alone," she said.
He hesitated in front of the door with his fingers flexing but not reaching for the handle and his blood rushing in his ears. He was panicking. He couldn't remember the last time he'd properly panicked. He wasn't sure he'd ever panicked as Chat Noir. Superheroes weren't allowed to panic but apparently whatever artificial bravery came with the transformation did not extend to his hyperactive emotions.
"But it's up to you, I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable," she said.
"You're not," he said which was a lie but it was a lie he hoped that he could make true if he just believed in it hard enough. He was uncomfortable but that didn't have to be something bad.
He leaned on the door and opened it very slowly. She was already tucked in under the blankets, with her back to him. The curtains were drawn so the only light in the room came from the doorway. The lights were on in half the apartment. There were six white butterflies flitting around. He hadn't brushed his teeth or fed the fish or finished his homework. He ignored all of that and pushed the door shut behind him so he was back in the dark with her again.
"Can I try something?" he asked.
"Sure," she said and the forced casualness did more to calm him down than anything else might have. She was better at hiding it but she wasn't really any more relaxed. This was just as strange and new for her as it was for him. She still had her back to him. As Chat Noir, he could see pretty well in the dark but she didn't turn back over.
"I purr," he said.
"You say that the way someone else might say, 'I am sexually attracted to moose.' I can almost see you flinching in the dark," she said.
He had gotten himself all worked up and the tension shattered like plate glass. He started to laugh, "Moose are very sexy, I don't understand why that's so unusual," he said. He flopped down onto the side of the bed where she wasn't and laughed until he wasn't so panicked. The girl he had been in love with for years was in his bed and she was making jokes about moose.
"Moose are not sexy. Caribou, yes. Moose? No," she said. He laughed again and when he had fallen quiet, she said, "Tell me why you're all weird about purring. It's a cat thing. That's not the weirdest cat thing to inherit."
"It's an involuntary thing. Real cats can control when they purr. I just do it but only if I can calm down completely. I'm not good at that," he said.
"I can't sit still as Ladybug at all. I have all this extra energy," she said.
"Yes, exactly that," he said. His foot was tapping as though trying to prove the point and he forced it still, "But the purring thing, when I can make it happen? Is fantastic. I've only ever done it three times and the first time it surprised me so much I stopped. It's inpurriating."
"That one was bad, and the word already has fur in it, too forced," she said groping in the dark until she found his shoulder and gave him a shove. He was still lying on his back, looking up at the light fixture, trying to believe this was normal.
"I will not have you critiquing my puns. Each one is a meow-sterpiece," he said.
"Each one is worst than the last," she said.
"Not true," he said.
He couldn't make the words come to ask her if he could touch her but she didn't wait for him to. She just flicked the blankets back and once he'd tentatively climbed in under them, she rolled over and put her head on his shoulder.
"I thought you were supposed to be relaxing," she said putting a hand on his chest. He could barely feel the touch through the suit but that didn't seem to matter. Her hand was a weight and he couldn't breathe with it there.
"Working on it," he said wrapping an arm around her. He lay on his back and she cuddled in closer but he couldn't release the tension in his muscles. Even his hand on her back was tense.
"Try this," she said and she rolled back onto her side and grabbed his arm to pull him along. He was stronger than she was like this but it didn't even occur to him to do anything but exactly what she wanted. She lay back and pulled him in so he was the one with his head on her shoulder. She paused to trace the shape of his claws with her fingers and then pulled his arm across her stomach. She kept her fingers looped lightly around his wrist.
"Then you have to breathe, I don't think passing out was what you had in mind," she said and her voice was right there just above his head. He took a deep breath and it smelled like her. Something fruity, his laundry detergent and a smell that he wouldn't have been able to pick out if he was just Adrien but his cat senses would recognize her by smell alone. He focused on that, on letting some instinct that wasn't quite human break down the little details of her scent.
"Better, good kitty," she said and he mock hissed at her but didn't move.
He would be perfectly happy to never move again.
She touched his ear, the cat ear, and he twitched it. She giggled very softly. He nuzzled into her shoulder as she pushed his hair away from his face. He had gone from panicked to melting in what felt like an instant. Her fingers in his hair were gentle and she rubbed behind his ears. He assumed she meant it as a joke but it was so good that he leaned back into it.
"Don't stop," he said when her hand moved on. She rubbed slow circles between his shoulder blades and he murmured, "That's good too."
He was bigger than a house cat and when the purr started it was loud. It rumbled through his chest. She laughed in surprise but didn't stop touching him. He tightened his hold to cradle her in as close as he could without hurting her. His body relaxed as the vibrations built.
This was what the purr something special. It vibrated through his body and he relaxed. His heart rate slowed. His breathing evened and deepened. It wiped away tension he wasn't aware he was holding in his back and shoulders. It pushed out any rushing thoughts until he was thinking as slowly as he was moving.
He was half asleep and more content than he could remember being since he was a child. He held onto his Ladybug and breathed in her scent as he melted.
"Good night, Chat," she whispered with her lips against his forehead.
He returned the kiss to the nearest bit of skin he could reach. Her shoulder might have been forgivable but he'd hit her collarbone where the too big shirt she had borrowed from him had slipped to the side. He was too lost in the purr to be embarrassed but he pull back and pressed his face back against her shoulder which was safely covered in clothing.
She rubbed her hand along his jaw and he tilted his head back to allow her to touch his face or his throat or whatever it was that she wanted. His eyes were shut and he was going to lose the transformation to sleep before it wore off. He was still purring and he could feel the way the vibrations were working as much on her as they were on him. Her shoulders were more relaxed, her breathing slowing until it matched his, even the way her hands moved was slow.
She held his chin in one hand and kissed him again. He returned it. Slow and hazy. Her mouth sweet and soft and just a little higher than him so he had to tilt his head back to reach her. Even this was hazy. It didn't wake either of them up. She had a little smile on her lips as she pressed lazy kisses along his jaw to his ear and then back. He lost the transformation while their mouths were still together.
"Hi," he murmured once the blinding flash was gone.
"Hi," she said and she kissed him again.
He fell asleep as Adrien, tucked in against his mystery girl with the taste of her in his mouth and the heavy soft relaxation of the purr still soaked into every muscle in his body.
Author Notes:
Bet you thought after last chapter that I had finally cooled it on the rambling authors notes but NOPE.
You know that line in the Princess Diaries movie where the stylist makes the moose joke? "A very sexy moose, makes the boy moose go HOOOONK"? Yeah that's what I was thinking of when I wrote that sexy moose line. Maybe I am the only one who thought that was the funniest joke in all of history but 12 year old me thought that was one of the funniest jokes of all time and I have never forgotten it. I can still picture Anne Hathaway's face and the way he said HOOOONK.
This is my favourite chapter so far. The purring and the cuddling and the sleepy kisses and his little freak out about being in bed with a girl. These are the kind of things that I write fic for.
