Chapter Text
“This is so stupid,” Ladybug said with a huff, grabbing ahold of a particularly gaudy ladybug-themed pillow and giving it a once-over before chucking it aside.
Chat Noir reached out and easily caught the pillow, giving it a small appraisal with a stupid grin on his face. “What is, My Lady?”
“This whole… everything!” Ladybug huffed, motioning outwards to the room they were situated in. The large hotel room, courtesy of Le Grand Paris, was almost suffocating in how over-the-top its decorations were, and the rose petals lining the floor certainly didn’t help. “You have to admit, it’s a bit… gauche.”
“I think it’s flattering,” Chat Noir teased, shooting her one of his awful smirks as he stepped towards the couch-side table, which was adorned with just about the worst lamp she was sure that she’d ever seen, made of hot-pink glass blown into the shape of a heart. She nearly gagged as Chat Noir motioned to it and asked, “You don’t like pink?”
“I love pink,” she huffed, rolling her eyes, “And my des— creative endeavors have been referred to as ‘kitschy’ before, but compared to this? Call me a minimalist.”
“No!” he gasped, placing a hand over his heart in his dramatics, “Who could say such a thing? My Lady, I’m sure your art is purr fectly inspired!”
Ladybug scoffed, unable to hide the smile on her face as she rolled her eyes and motioned towards the bed behind her. The one bed. “Also, they only gave us one bed? They’ve got to be kidding.”
“Ahhh, bed-sharing, my favorite trope!”
“There will be no bed-sharing,” she said, so used to his antics after all these years that she couldn’t find it in herself to be truly annoyed at him. The situation, however? That was getting on her nerves. “I mean, how dumb does the mayor think we are? Offering us a permanent hotel room as a ‘gesture of gratitude for all our work for Paris’, like it isn’t clearly just some half-baked political ploy to place him more in the public’s favor after the whole school funding scandal, like we’ll allow ourselves to sleep in a hotel that we were publicly offered, making ourselves sitting ducks for Hawkmo—”
“It’s a pretty big building,” he countered, and at least he seemed amused, because she certainly wasn’t, “Nobody knows which room we were given but us.”
“It doesn’t matter!” she scoffed, “It’s still a security risk that he can narrow our location down at all! Also,” she jutted her arms out towards the bed a second time, “May I remind you? ONE. BED. ONE!”
“But My Lady!” Chat Noir grinned, clearly enjoying her little tirade as he motioned towards the bucket of ice on the coffee table, “They gave us champagne! How could we paw ssibly refuse?”
“We tell them, time and time again, that we aren’t a couple,” she groaned, reaching up to pinch at the bridge of her nose and squeezing her eyes shut, “And they think… they think this would be acceptable? That it’d be appropriate ? Do they really respect us that litt—”
CRASH!
Ladybug snapped to attention, yanking her yoyo off of her hip and whipping her head towards the source of the sound and—
The stupid heart lamp was in pieces.
She turned her attention towards Chat Noir, who stood there, mouth agape and freshly-opened champagne bottle in hand. It was pointed towards what remained of the lamp, vapors wafting out the top.
“Oops,” he uttered, the cat ears atop his head pinning back, and her resolve broke. She broke into a fit of laughter and threw her head back.
“Chaton!” She scolded through her giggles, “Do you have any idea how much that horrible thing cost? Probably a lot!”
“I’ll pay for it,” he said, a sheepish smile on his face. She loved Chat Noir ( platonically! ), she really did, but seeing him get knocked down a peg was always amusing.
“You can’t go one day without breaking something, can you?” she teased, stepping forward and flicking at his stupid bell and enjoying the little jingle it gave her. “You really are the perfect wielder for destruction.”
He pouted at her, and she found herself enjoying the pinkness of his cheeks as he turned back towards the table and poured two glasses of the drink. Seeing Chat Noir embarrassed was something she could certainly get used to. “It was an accident! Why doesn’t creation do something about it and fix it?”
She rolled her eyes, smiling as she accepted the glass that he handed to her. “Oh, so it’s always up to me to fix your mistakes, is it?”
“Isn’t it?” He grinned, turning on his heel and plopping down onto the couch.
“Sorry, minou, but I fix magical disasters. A cat breaking some furniture is way below my pay grade,” she said with a smirk, watching as he reclined back into the cushions and propped his feet onto the coffee table, “Getting comfy, are we?”
“And why shouldn’t I?” he grinned at her, and she realized he already had the TV remote in hand, “I got nothing else planned, and we have this whole place to ourselves…”
“I told you,” she rolled her eyes, “We’re not actually going to be using this place.”
“Maybe not, but why leave now?” he took a sip of his champagne before glancing to her with a mischievous little glint in his eye, “What? Too embarrassed to share a couch?”
“I never said I was too embarrassed to share a bed,” she snorted, rolling her eyes, “Just that it was inappropriate.”
“Think it’s too inappropriate to share a couch?” he revised, raising a brow at her in challenge. She huffed and stepped forward, plopping down right next to him and mirroring his movements by thumping her feet up on the table as well. “Ha! I thought not.”
“You’re lucky it’s a Saturday,” she said, settling down into the cushions as she took a sip of the champagne. She had to admit, the couch was pretty comfy and the champagne wasn’t half bad. “What are we going to watch?”
“I dunno,” he said, reclining further and resting his arm behind her shoulders. She rolled her eyes, but found herself too comfortable to tell him off. He turned on the TV, which was hooked up with all the streaming services they could ever possibly need, and started flicking through the options. “You still hate rom-coms?”
She opened her mouth to respond, only to be cut short by an explosive BOOM that shook the room and made the lights flicker.
“It wasn’t me that time!”
“So much for a lazy Saturday,” she groaned, pulling herself up to her feet and snatching her yoyo off her hip.
******
Marinette tossed and turned, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to will herself to tune out the sounds echoing off the walls.
Nino and Alya’s laughter was like a curse, seeping into her bedroom and damning her to a fitful rest. She never thought she’d regret moving in with Alya and, well, she never thought her friends’ laughter could annoy her so much, either.
She was being ridiculous, she knew. It was a Friday night, and they had planned on a friendly get together where they could all hang out and play games well into the night, just her, Alya, Nino, and Adrien.
Only, Adrien didn’t come, citing a disastrous scheduling conflict that sent him to some evening charity event all night long, with an early-morning photoshoot scheduled at the crack of dawn. Nino had regaled Marinette and Alya with the details, explaining just how sullen Adrien had seemed about the whole thing after how excited he had been to come. But he’d insisted that they go on without him, and they’d complied. After all, there was no reason to cancel.
Except, Marinette suddenly didn’t feel like having fun anymore.
She’d tried to be a good sport about it, laughing and watching a movie alongside her two close friends, but it was hard. It was hard because she missed Adrien, because she’d picked out her outfit and fumbled with her make-up all day in preparation to see him, because she missed him so much and saw him so rarely these days, and because Nino and Alya were… well…
They tried not to make her feel like a third wheel, and Marinette could appreciate the attempts, but it was never really enough. She’d force a smile as she watched the two of them, laughing and bumping knees, seeing the way they’d sneakily brush their fingers together when they thought she wasn’t looking, and she’d think about how much she wished Adrien was there.
At least then they could be third wheels together.
Another roar of laughter echoed through the apartment, and Marinette pressed her pillow to her ears, letting out a low groan.
Sure, she’d excused herself to bed a bit earlier than was reasonable (citing a headache, which she wasn’t sure either of them really bought, but they were sympathetic nonetheless), but she’d been in bed for hours, and it really was getting late, and Marinette wanted nothing more than to be unconscious right now.
“What are they laughing at?” a voice drawled out, penetrating the stupid pillow, and Marinette peeked an eye open to see that it was Mullo.
“Such joyous sounds!” Daizzi cheered, and Marinette huffed. “They must love each other so much!”
“Guys…” Marinette grumbled.
“Why don’t you join them, guardian?” Roaar asked, floating up to Marinette’s face, “You deserve a little fun!”
The kwamis surrounded her, all nodding in agreement, and Marinette took a long, deep, frustrated breath.
“Hushhh,” Sass hissed out kindly, “The guardian isss trying to sssleep.”
Another bout of hysterics echoed off the walls, and now Marinette just felt like she was being mocked. She let out a loud groan.
“They shouldn’t be so loud,” Barkk huffed, “Don’t they have any respect?”
The kwamis continued to chatter, and Marinette felt her limbs tingle in frustration. She wanted to sleep, but she needed to move.
“Guys! Marinette needs quiet!” Tikki chirped up, and Marinette felt all patience dissipate.
“Yeah, I need quiet!” Marinette hissed, launching up into a sitting position, “But I’m never going to get it here, apparently!”
The kwamis flinched a little, and Marinette let out a long, agonizing sigh, raising her hands to rub deep into her eyes.
“... It’s not your guys’ fault,” she muttered, feeling all their eyes on her, “... and it’s not their faults, either. I just… I just wish I had somewhere actually private that I could—”
The realization dawned on her.
It had been weeks since she’d even thought about that place, and sure, she’d promised that she’d never go there again, and she still found the whole existence of the room a bit insulting, but it was there, and she’d done more than enough to earn it, hadn’t she? Hawkmoth hadn’t made any targeted attacks on the hotel since the mayor’s announcement, either, and he had no way of knowing which days she was using it and which days she wasn’t.
It wouldn’t be too dangerous to sleep there, surely, and the whole one-bed thing wouldn’t be a problem if she was going there alone. Right?
She threw her covers off of herself, launching up to her feet and calling out “Tikki, spots on!”
She wished the kwamis goodnight and tossed her yoyo out her window, swinging from building to building, leaping from roof to roof, on her way towards the hotel. She had to admit that the run was nice to get the pent-up frustration out of her system, but it didn’t help with the exhaustion settling deep into her muscles.
She wanted nothing more than to just collapse into the stupid plush bed, detransform, and pass out for the night.
So when she swung into the stupid hotel room, landing on her feet just beside the bed, she allowed herself to do just that, collapsing right onto the—
—human body.
A man’s voice yelped out, and Ladybug shrieked as she scrambled off of the bed and onto the floor.
Wrong room. Wrong room. Wrong room! She thought that she’d remembered which window was ‘hers’, but she had never been particularly good at not humiliating herself at every chance she could, so why did she ever believe that tonight would be the exception?
“I— I’m sorry! Citizen!” Ladybug yelped out, scrambling to her feet as the figure sat up. She couldn’t make them out in the darkness of the room, which she supposed she was thankful for, considering how embarrassing this all was, “Just, uh— You know! Doing my, uhh, routine superhero duty of a bed check—”
“My…” the man’s voice rasped out, laden with sleep and strangely familiar all the same, “... My Lady…?”
Ladybug sputtered. “Cha— Chat Noir!?” Flabbergasted as her slow thoughts caught up to the situation at hand, she realized that she hadn’t gotten the wrong room, and she suddenly felt a lot less embarrassed as she went to flick on the bedside lamp to get a good look at him.
Chat Noir gasped, yanking the covers up and ducking behind them, and Ladybug’s sleepy mind wracked for why he was trying to hide when she noticed the hands that were holding the comforter up.
The bare hands.
Ladybug shrieked, immediately flicking the light back off and shielding her eyes as she sputtered out, “You— You— You’re not transformed!”
“Of course I’m not transformed!” the man who was both Chat Noir and not Chat Noir hissed out, “I was asleep!”
“Oh my god,” she gasped out in horror, her face suddenly very hot, “Are you— Are you naked!?”
“Wh— No! Why would I be naked!?”
“I DON’T KNOW!” she hissed out forcefully, her hands only pressing further into her eyes, “Why are you here!? I thought we agreed that we weren’t going to use this place!”
“I can ask you the same question!”
“I— I—” she stuttered out before the reality of the situation sunk in and snuffed out any and all panic or anger in her system. He was right after all, she couldn’t be shocked or upset that he was here when she was too. She sighed, her shoulders dropping as she muttered out, a little embarrassed, “... I couldn’t sleep, and I just— I guess I thought I might have better luck here.”
He responded in silence, and she turned back towards the window. Snatching her yoyo off her hip, she continued, “Sorry for the rude awakening. I’ll just, uh, go—”
“Plagg, claws out,” he rasped out, and suddenly the dark room flashed in a bright, electric green light.
She blinked, dazed for a second before she whipped back around to face him. It was still too dark for her to make him out, but she could clearly see the silhouette of cat ears adorning his head as he scooted to the edge of the bed and stood up. “Wh… What are you doing? I told you, I’m leaving!”
He shook his head and approached her. “No, you’re not.”
“Yes,” she scoffed, “I am. I told you, I’m not going to share a bed with—”
“Of course not,” he said, his voice sleepy and a tad deeper than she was used to, and thanks to his proximity she could almost make out the features on his face through the darkness. “You take the bed. I’ll go.”
“What?” she gasped, realizing that he was serious as he turned towards the window and reached for his baton. She shot her hand out and gripped his wrist, “You can’t be serious! You were just sleeping in it!”
He responded to her in silence, and she stood there for a few moments too long, awkwardly gripping his wrist, waiting for him to say something. Chat Noir was never this quiet, and she almost wondered if she’d somehow offended him until he turned to her with a sleepy little smirk on his face and said, “My Lady, this breed of cat doesn’t shed! I purr omise, the bed’s clean as a… as a… clean thing.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she snorted, a strange warmth blooming in her chest at just how cute he was when he was sleepy, “I meant you had dibs. Also, the fact it took you that long to come up with that just goes to show how sleepy you are.”
“Mmmmnnnope,” he hummed out, popping the ‘p’ at the end, “I’m totally awake right now. Meow. Right meow. See? I’m coming up with puns like… nobody’s business. I’m like a… a… engine.”
“Like an engine, minou?” she smiled at him, a twinkle in her eye, “That’s what you’re going with?”
“Like a… cat engine,” he drawled out, before slowly shifting into something she could only describe as a ‘stupid cat pose’, bent at the knees with his hands splayed out like claws, “This… baby purrs! Engines purr, too. That’s what people say. See? It works.”
“Mhhhmm…” she hummed, stepping between him and the window and pressing the palms of her hands flat against his chest. She pushed him back gently, and he didn’t quite have it in him to resist as she pressed forward until he was sitting back down on the bed. “I think it’s time we put it in park. Would be a shame if the engine ran out of gas, wouldn’t it?”
“I have plenty of gas,” he snorted, and she rolled her eyes, taking satisfaction in the knowledge that he had night vision and could definitely see it.
“Good night, Chaton,” she whispered, too tired herself to think twice before she leaned forward and pressed an affectionate kiss to his forehead for a moment longer than strictly necessary. “I’m sorry I woke you up. I’ll see you tomorrow at patrol. Okay?”
She turned back to the window to leave, but he grabbed her wrist. “No. You’re not leaving.”
“I can go wherever I please,” she huffed, turning back to him and placing her free hand on her hip with a challenging glare.
“You… said you couldn’t sleep at your place,” he said, squinting up at her, “You need your sleep. Seriously, Ladybug. I’ll go. You take the bed.”
“And I thought I was perfectly clear that you already got dibs on the bed and are way too sleepy to leave!” she huffed, and his tired grip finally loosened enough for her to pull away and cross her arms over her chest. “And no. We’re still not sharing the bed.”
“Fine,” he sighed, “Then I’ll take the cou—”
“No, I’ll take the couch!” she declared, thankful that he had reminded her of it, and turned on her heel. She marched to the other room, which thankfully wasn’t separated by a wall (she didn’t feel like palming around in search of a doorknob), and waltzed around the back of the couch before collapsing into it and settling down into its soft cushions. “Good! Night!”
Squeezing her eyes tight, she shifted over onto her side and placed her hands under her head. She felt a little silly that she hadn’t grabbed a blanket from the closet or something first, but other than that, there really was nothing keeping her from falling asleep like thi—
A metal rod wedged itself between her waist and the back of the couch, and suddenly it was prying her off of the cushions and throwing her to the floor with a thud and an ‘ oof ’.
“Hey!” she spat, propping herself up from where she had face-planted on the ground to shoot a glare up at Chat Noir’s silhouette. He stood behind the couch and put his baton away before leaping over the back of the couch and setting down on its cushions, swinging one leg over the other and placing his hands behind the back of his head.
“Aahhhh,” he crooned, his tail flicking beneath him, “Comfy! Get me a blanket, wouldya, buginette?”
“Get off!” She hissed, pulling herself up onto her feet, “I got dibs on the couch!”
“I said it first,” he said, and she could just hear the shitty little smirk on his face. “You just piggybacked off my idea. The dibs is all mine.”
“You can’t have dibs on both the bed and the couch,” she scoffed, “That’s not fair.”
“Lucky for you, I wholeheartedly re…lin…quish…” he started, a deep yawn interrupting him before he continued, “... my dibs on the bed. Have at it.”
The yawn was infectious, and soon Ladybug was stifling one of her own. This was getting to be ridiculous, and she realized then that they were never going to get anywhere like this. If they kept arguing, the next thing they knew it would already be sunrise and neither of them would have gotten any sleep. The only way to stop the cycle was to stop perpetuating it herself, and she let out a long, frustrated, and stubborn groan at the thought.
“Fine. Fine.” She growled, stomping over to the stupid hotel room’s stupid closet and swinging it open, patting around until she found a folded up blanket. She chucked it at him, and he fumbled to catch it. “You win this round, Chat Noir, but only because I’m too tired to put up with you any longer.”
“If it makes you feel any better, bedbug,” he cooed, “You can have the couch next time!”
“There’s not going to be a ‘next time’!”
Chat Noir gave a satisfied little hum in response, and she huffed and headed back over to her Loser’s Bed of Shame™, crawling in under the covers and closing her eyes.
It was a really nice bed. It was soft like a cloud, and the blankets were warm and heavy, and soon her thoughts were going hazy…
“... Don’t forget to detransform, Chaton,” she drawled out, tired and blearily blinking her eyes open as she looked to the back of the couch. She was thankful that the layout of the rooms kept the two from being able to see each other. “You don’t want to… to…” she yawned, “... wear your kwami out…”
Silence hung between them for a long moment, and she wondered if she was going to have to drag herself back out of bed and shake him awake. Before she could, though, she could just barely catch the sound of him murmuring something, and a flash of green light emanating from the couch.
“... Spots off,” she muttered herself, closing her eyes and settling into the cloud-like comfort as the magic washed out of her. She pulled the sheets further over her, settling deeper into the softness before she managed out a “... Sweet dreams, mon Chaton.”
She stayed like that for a long moment, listening in wait for him to return the sentiment, but soon she heard the gentle sound of snoring coming from the couch, and she couldn’t help the smile that spread on her face.
Of course he was a snorer.