Chapter Text
“Let me see…”
The receptionist’s sentence trailed into a clacking of keys, soon buried by a roar of thunder as the hotel lobby doors slid open. A frigid breeze extended its talons inside, but even that cold had nothing on the iciness that stretched between Ladybug and her partner.
Not that Chat Noir seemed mad at her, just…still. A frozen shadow, empty and lifeless.
He’d been that way since they’d exposed Monarch.
“Ah!” Ladybug jumped at the receptionist’s voice. “Here we go! Sorry about the wait, dear. You would think in a world full of superheroes they’d be able to invent software that didn’t freeze every ten minutes, but what can you do?”
Considering how much older the Miraculous were than modern technology, that didn’t even make sense. But Ladybug nodded, stretching a fake smile onto her tired cheeks. Of course the woman was excited to see them—it wasn’t every day Ladybug and Chat Noir were in London.
“Alright, darlings. Well, it seems there are three rooms available. No more double rooms, so I can either book you two, or…”
Her eyes were wide when she glanced up from her screen. Wide and hungry, like a reporter waiting for the next scoop. As if it would mean something if they chose to share a bed, as if that was more intimate than half a decade fighting for their lives at each other’s sides.
Even if Ladybug had wanted to be alone, she knew she couldn’t leave Chat. Not tonight.
If she did, she was half-convinced she’d never see him again.
She glanced up at him, checking to make sure he didn’t have any objection. In some sense, she almost hoped he did. At least then he’d have an opinion on something.
Tired, she’d told the receptionist to explain why Chat wasn’t speaking. We just took down a magical terrorist a few days ago, so he’s just a little tired. A perfectly reasonable excuse if it weren’t for the haunted look in his eyes—could nobody else see that?
He didn’t even glance in Ladybug’s direction, not even as she rubbed a hand up his back, squeezed his shoulders, and stupidly let her fingers brush against his on the way back down. Not as she felt her stomach sink when he made no move to grab her hand.
How could she miss him so much when he was right there?
Right there.
Maybe they did need two rooms—how would they fit the distance between them into one bed?
How would Ladybug live with herself if she couldn’t find a way to close that distance?
She turned back to the receptionist. “One room will be fine.”
The room key wasn’t working, and Ladybug couldn’t handle having one more problem she needed to solve. She didn’t want another far-too-silent elevator ride back down to the lobby. She didn’t want to face the stares and the whispers and the expectations of the other guests and staff. So she tapped the card furiously against the sensor, clenching her teeth when the light turned red again.
She was on the verge of snapping the damn key in half when Chat’s fingers wrapped around her wrist.
“Here,” he whispered, his body pressing against her back. The sudden proximity made her freeze, made her brain short-circuit. His breath tickled her hair as he gently pried the card from her hand. “Let me.”
He flipped the card over and pressed it to the sensor. The light turned green. His fingers slipped down to turn the handle, pushing the door open just a few centimeters and holding it there. He was probably waiting for her to go inside, but she didn’t want to move.
She didn’t want this moment to end.
Too many things washed over her all at once—the fear she’d somehow ruined everything, the exhaustion of days spent trying to figure out what she’d done wrong. The relief that for the first time in hours, at least he’d said something to her.
She wanted to tell him she loved him. That she needed him. That she’d do anything to make things right.
All she managed to actually do was swallow back her tears one more time.
She placed her hand over his, ready to grab hold, for them to open the door together. But he pulled away the second she made contact, and she took her first step into the room alone.
At least it was a nice room. Crisp white bedsheets and polished wooden furniture. A flatscreen TV and a mini fridge. Soft, warm lighting, though it took a few tries to figure out which switch controlled what.
If this had been a week ago, she would have been thrilled to be in a place like this with Chat. They had been in a place like this the weekend before last, wearing significantly less clothing and a pair of blindfolds to hide their identities. There were rose petals on the bed when she walked in and a few that followed her home.
Now, Ladybug looked around the space while Chat trailed in behind her. He headed straight to the bed, not bothering to get under the covers before curling up on his side, staring blankly at the wall. She watched him for a few minutes, wondering if she ought to try for the hundredth time to get him to open up.
But what if he didn’t? What if she just made things worse?
She sighed, turning to flip open the binder she’d seen on the desk.
“Chaton?” She twisted to watch him, hoping against all hope he’d give some sort of acknowledgement, even if it wasn’t with words. “I thought I’d order some room service. Anything you want?”
His only response was a despondent flick of his tail.
Chat only ate half a sandwich for dinner, but Ladybug counted it as a win. It was more than he’d eaten for lunch, and it made him sit up for half an hour or so while he picked his way through, so that was…something. Plus, she could hardly criticize him for not eating when the knots in her stomach made her pasta seem about as appealing as a bowl of yarn.
They split up after that, Ladybug taking the bathroom for a couple hours so their Kwamis could rest. She wouldn’t have minded doing away with all the secrecy, but the reveal was another thing Chat had apparently changed his mind about.
She made use of her time by texting Alya, getting an update on things back in Paris. There wasn’t much to note on that front. Alya sent a few pictures of her and the twins out celebrating in the streets, and Nino was worried he hadn’t been able to see Adrien. Luckily Adrien was replying to messages, so at least they knew he was safe.
Marinette felt guilty for feeling relieved beyond measure at that knowledge—because it wasn’t just her friend’s wellbeing prompting that emotion. Part of her was simply glad it wasn’t her problem, as awful as that sounded. She didn’t have the time to worry for Adrien on top of Chat.
Of course she felt terrible for him, and she’d been texting him too. But at least Adrien had people—Nino, Alya, Kagami, maybe even Chloé. Marinette was starting to worry that Chat might not.
Nobody except her, and she kept royally fucking that up.
Maybe they shouldn’t have come here. When they’d found evidence that Félix still had the Peacock Miraculous, Ladybug had figured it best to get the trip out of the way. Afterwards, they’d truly be able to relax, and she could figure out how to help Chat.
But they’d been wandering the city all day, hanging out in spots Félix was supposed to frequent but finding no trace of him. They ought to have given up, gone home and tried again later. Instead, she’d dragged Chat here, despite having no plan for tomorrow.
It was selfish, really. She knew Chat wouldn’t leave her alone to face a potential danger, and she’d taken advantage of that. She used it as an excuse to keep him close, even if that wasn’t what he really needed.
She didn't have a clue what he did need.
Eventually she grew tired of sitting on the bathroom floor, so she sent Tikki outside to check if Chat had transformed back. When the confirmation came, she wasted little time in calling her own transformation and slipping back into the room.
The room was darker than before, but the lamp on the far side of the bed was still on, forming an ominous halo around Chat’s body while his face was half-hidden in shadows. His eyes were fixed on the wall again, telling her he was still awake but not much else. It didn’t seem like he’d moved at all from the spot where she’d left him.
“Bathroom’s yours if you need it,” she said, hovering near the end of the bed.
When there was no response, she drew in a long, quiet breath then walked across the room to dim the light. She sank onto the mattress slowly, brushing her hand across the blanket towards Chat as she twisted around to face him. He didn’t acknowledge her presence, not even when she lay down and scooched closer, stopping before she could touch him.
She was afraid to touch him. Afraid of what it meant that the boy who used to fold into her embrace like velvet now stiffened like cardboard when she approached. But it scared her more to think he’d stay that way forever, so eventually she pushed herself up on one elbow, trying to ignore the way his claws sank into the blanket when she moved.
“Can we talk?” she whispered, leaning down until her nose brushed the ends of his hair.
The blanket bunched up further in his hand, but he gave no other sign he’d heard her.
“Please.” She rested a hand above his elbow.
He stiffened, but didn’t pull away, so she took that as a sign to keep going. She let her fingers trail along his forearm, stopping when only once her hand covered his on the bed. She pressed her body against his back and rested her cheek next to his. There was no sound save for his stuttering breaths and the blood pounding in her ears.
His hand clenched into a fist beneath hers, and she worried she’d pushed too far. But suddenly his hand turned over, grasping desperately for her fingers. He pulled her arm to his chest, drawing her in closer. Their joined hands came to rest somewhere near his heart.
She shifted her face the tiniest bit, just enough for her lips to brush against his cheek. He reacted to that, turning his head towards her so the next kisses she gave him found the corner of his lips, the tip of his nose, and the furrowed skin above his mask. By the last one, he’d rolled completely onto his back, still desperately clutching her hand as his gaze bore into hers.
His eyes were so empty, vacuums that sucked the life from her very soul to sustain their dull gleam. She didn’t care what he took. She’d give him anything, everything if it helped. If it coaxed one more smile out of the lips that were suddenly seeking out hers.
He surged up to kiss her with an intensity she hadn’t expected, capturing her bottom lip between his teeth as his free hand found the small of her back. He tugged her closer, pulling her flush against him as their tempo increased, and the only thing separating them were the hands still sandwiched between their chests.
She understood, as his leg pressed between hers and his kisses trailed hungrily along her jaw, that there wouldn’t be talking tonight—not unless she put a stop to this. She wondered if she should pull back, if maybe this distraction wasn’t entirely healthy. But he kissed the spot beside her ear so tenderly she felt it all the way down to her toes. And how was she supposed to think about words after that?
He was giving her this much—his attention, his care, his love. How could she possibly turn that down? She couldn’t; she could only twist her fingers into his hair, turning his head and forcing their lips back together.
She ended up on her back, his weight balanced carefully across her body and their hands still clasped together above her head. Their kisses had finally slowed—less frenzied but just as needy.
His thumb traced slow circles above her hip as their lips parted once, twice, then for a third time as Chat pulled back, lifting his body just enough to stare down at her.
There was still a heaviness in his eyes, but there was a touch of fire too. She licked her lips, watching his pupils narrow as they tracked the movement. His lips parted for a moment, as if he were finally on the verge of saying something, but too soon they pressed into a tight line.
He didn’t move, watching her as she caught her breath. Her heart was racing, demanding more. Under other circumstances, she might have been content just to stare at him for hours on end. But right now…
She pushed herself up, ignoring the way her shoulder twinged at the movement. Chat seemed to get the hint, finally releasing her hand so she could get a better angle. She trailed her fingers up to his shoulder, down his chest. She gave his bell a gentle flick, watching his lips twitch into the ghost of a smile.
She arched her neck a tiny bit higher, pressing their foreheads together before she had to watch the expression fade.
“I love you,” she murmured against his mouth.
His lips parted with a tiny whimper, saying the words back as best he could. She cupped his cheek with one hand, sneaking her other around his waist and pulling him back down. He surrendered easily, returning everything she gave him. Letting her take the lead.
She wanted more—the feeling of his lips on her neck, of his hands sending shivers along her bare skin. She wanted to map out on his body all the ways she loved him. She wanted him to remember what it meant to have her by his side, no matter what.
So she broke another kiss, turning her lips to the side. “Want to” —she gasped as his claws traced lightly down her side— “drop the suits?”
She should have known better. She hadn’t even meant they should reveal themselves; she just wanted him close. And after all this time, they had more than enough practice keeping their eyes shut. But she felt Chat freeze, and she knew he’d misinterpreted.
Never mind cardboard, Chat was rigid like a block of cement. She expected him to pull away, but he stayed in place for the longest time, his lips far too close yet way too far. Ladybug didn’t know what to do, worried the smallest movement could send him running.
Little by little, his face turned to the side. His head dropped to her shoulder, and his body slumped against hers, trembling.
“I-I can’t,” he said, so quietly she almost missed it. His hand flopped blindly across the mattress until he found hers. He gripped it so tightly she was half-surprised he wasn’t breaking bones through the suit. “I can’t.”
“Okay,” she said softly, trying to keep her voice steady. “We don’t have to.”
He didn’t say anything else; he just kept trembling like a leaf. She hesitantly rested her hand on his back, smoothing circles between his shoulder blades when he didn’t protest.
A giant sob ripped through him, one that tore her apart inside. Something was wrong—terribly wrong—and she had no idea what to do.
There was no Lucky Charm for this.
She was useless. All she could do was hold him as he cried, feeling her paper heart rip into a few more shreds. She tangled her fingers in his hair and whispered reassurances into his ear, all the while knowing there was little chance he’d tell her what was wrong after his tears ran dry.
“It’s okay, mon minou.” She could barely get the words out, on the verge of tears herself. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
I’m never letting go.