It was a training night, and Ladybug couldn't keep her hands off Chat Noir. Not that he was complaining, but it was really putting his resolve to the test. He wasn't going to make her uncomfortable or make her push him away. The sweet, agonizing burning of her proximity was something he would endure.

The blur of her yoyo sliced through the cool air, and Chat Noir, caught off guard, barely raised his baton in time.

"Nice block!" She reeled the line in with a quiet zip and laid one hand over his. (He would die before admitting either that that block was 90% accidental or that her constant touch was NOT helping. It felt like his bones were liquifying under her fingers.)

As soon as she walked away to ready her next attack, he stepped back to lean against the wall and closed his eyes, grateful for the short reprieve.

A whistling started, the sound of the yoyo spinning in a tight circle. "Okay. Again."

On a completely related note, he hadn't gotten a hit on her all night. (But, oh, was it ever worth it.)

Chat Noir pushed himself off the wall, swinging his weapon shakily, and missed the gleam in his Lady's eyes until it was far too late.

The yoyo flashed in an arc, wrapping around his baton as well as his hands. Ladybug yanked as hard as she could. It had been so quick that he didn't have time to even yell. He was flying off his feet and crashing into her before he knew what was happening.

He leapt off of her just as quickly, but not before he felt her mouth pressing against his collarbone.

"S-sorry," he managed to sputter out.

"No, I'm sorry," she said, unbothered, as she sat up. "I was only trying to disarm you, not grab you."

Heat crept up his face. He felt a sudden urge to fan it away, but if she hadn't noticed his blush yet, he wasn't going to draw attention to it, so he cleared his throat instead. "You usually have better aim than that."

"Well, I am very distracted tonight." She gave him a look, like he should know what had caused her bad throw.

Chat Noir busied himself with untangling his claws from her string. She kept doing that, expecting him to know what she was talking about, like it should be obvious to him. He should add that to his list. If he could just add everything up, he might finally puzzle out the secret message that he was missing.

In general, though. Not for this particular instance. Now the only thing he could think that she might mean was himself, but she couldn't have.

"Distracted by what?" he asked when his claws were finally free.

Ladybug gave a big sigh. "Never mind."

For the next half hour, the moon rose higher and Ladybug gave him a little bit more space. At first, it was helpful. He needed to catch his breath. But as the minutes ticked on and she kept her distance, he realized he was the one being driven to distraction. He wanted to be closer to her, to close the gap, pull her to him.

"I've got an idea to shake up this training session," she said after a silence that had stretched far too long (and had left him with ample time to agonize about spaces and how to fill them). "Wanna hear it?"

"Sure."

"So we have to hunt down akumas sometimes. What if we practice by looking for each other?"

Chat Noir tucked his baton away. "Isn't that just called hide and seek?"

"If you want to be boring about it, I guess we could call it that."

"Tactical detection training, then," he said. "Don't want Paris to think her heroes are boring."

She laughed. "I was thinking more along the lines of cat and mouse." Her smile turned dangerous. "But I go first being the cat."

Ladybug offered him a head start, and he didn't want to argue, not with that look on her face. Bounding across the rooftops, he wondered where he should hide, and what she had in mind. While it was true they occasionally had to search for akumas, it was a rarity. They were usually loud and proud about the destruction they were causing. Plus, it wasn't like practicing hiding would do them much good. It was too dependent on the section of city the fight was in, and there was no way they could just… memorize all the good spots.

After a few minutes, he found an open window that led into the attic of an old museum. The lights on the main floors were off, and the attic itself looked dark and dusty and unused. A quick look around told him his Lady wasn't nearby and wouldn't see him sneak inside. Perfect. He slipped in, past boxes and furniture and forgotten things, trying to find the perfect spot, somewhere he could watch for movement outside but would provide plenty of cover should she happen to peek in.

One of the dust sheets behind him rustled, but when he turned, he didn't see any movement. He was playing the mouse, but he suspected that had been caused by a real one. He wrinkled his nose. It certainly smelled like them in there.

When he turned back to face the window, he heard another rustle but ignored it. At least until he felt a touch at the small of his back and a whisper at his ear.

"Found you."

He jumped away, heart racing, only to hear Ladybug laughing in response.

"How?" he croaked.

"There's lots of open windows. While you were making up your mind, I came in on the other side." She grabbed his hand. "You're going to have to lead me out. I can't see anything in here. I almost tripped and landed on my face before."

Chat Noir let himself have one small indulgence. Instead of keeping his hand stiff and flat in hers, he curled his fingers, letting the pads press gently against the back of her hand.

And then he tried to stop thinking about how great it felt and stop being weird about it and started leading them out.

The silence between them was as thick as the dust in the room. He wanted to say something, make a joke about holding hands, or maybe chance intertwining their fingers, but he couldn't. If he called attention to it, she would probably be flustered and embarrassed and would stop. And he did NOT want her to stop.

When he reached the window, he paused. The toes of his boots were inches away from the shaft of moonlight shining in through the open window. A part of him wanted to stay in here with her, alone together, where no one could see them.

Ladybug didn't wait for him, instead pushing past him when she saw the faint light.

"Wait." He pulled, and she came willingly, until they were face to face. The air felt warm despite the cool air snaking in through the window and curling around them.

"What?" At first she seemed simply surprised at being held back, but the raised eyebrows were soon exchanged for a small smile. Which he only noticed because he was staring at her mouth.

He flicked his eyes toward the window. "Uh. Remember to duck, so you don't hit your head on the way out." Okay, maybe he should tell her to stop. This was careening toward unfamiliar territory. Dangerous territory.

Ladybug didn't let go of his hand until they had both made it through the small window and were in plain sight of the buildings around them. Lights from streetlights and cars all felt pointed at him, illuminating the heart on his sleeve. It was only a matter of time before she saw it.

"We shouldn't do that again."

Ladybug stopped short, caught off guard by his abrupt declaration. "Why not?"

Because being in the dark, hidden from the world, had given him ideas that would threaten the balance he'd created in himself - between the contentment her platonic friendship gave him and his desire for more - that would threaten to tear it all to pieces if he let it grow. It would have been so easy to lean in, kiss her, and believe that she would have welcomed him.

"Because it took too long," he said bluntly.

"Yeah," she agreed with a frown. "You're right. This wasn't the best use of our time. It's already time to go. And I didn't get the result that I wanted anyway."

He let out a held breath. That was good. She hadn't suggested switching roles and trying again. He wasn't sure his self control could handle chasing her right now. The wind blew, and on the street below engines revved as a light changed, and he tried to focus on that instead of how badly he wanted to let himself love her.

Ladybug took a step forward and cupped his cheek. All of his attention snapped back to her in an instant, his hands finding her hips before he thought to keep them still. Their eyes locked.

"It was a good idea, though," she continued, like she hadn't even noticed where he was holding her. Should he move? She would say something if it was bothering her. He knew she would tell him if he was in danger of making her uncomfortable, and he shouldn't worry. But he felt guilty anyway.

The hand on his cheek dropped to his chest, then slid down lower.

His eyes slammed shut.

Don't react, he chanted to himself as he started to shake. Don't, don't, don't. The muscles in his stomach clenched as her fingers brushed over them.

Breathe normally! He couldn't let her realize the effect she was having on him. He wasn't sure he was successful.

The hand finally dropped and he opened his eyes.

"Same time tomorrow?" She smiled up at him, waiting for an answer, but he could only stare and feel her hips still in his hands.

"We should go," she whispered, and then she stepped away, slipping out from underneath his palms.

Chat Noir had to ball them into fists to keep from grabbing her again and dragging her back to him. Pulling her flush against him, blazing heat everywhere they connected. The image was so strong and so, so close.

But what would Ladybug's reaction be to his unwelcome pull? That image was a dark shadow. He didn't know how it would play out, but the dread building in his chest whispered suggestions. And he didn't want to ruin this.

So he forced himself to stay still and let her go, waiting until she was gone before sitting down on the roof and putting his face in his hands. His resolve was quickly crumbling. If he didn't do something soon, he risked pushing her away and damaging the friendship that meant so much to him.

Too bad he had no idea what to do.