#bugabee

Marinaked Archive

Chat Noir had not had a good day.

To start with, there’d been the whole Marinette problem. Every single time she so much as breathed behind him his chest had gotten tight, the tips of his ears burning, as he was forcibly reminded of what he’d seen, as well as the content of some of his filthier dreams; it was a wonder he’d been able to concentrate at all, to write notes beyond Naked Mari Naked Mari Naked Mari.

And then—and then he’d lost his shirt during the Akuma fight. Embarrassing enough on its own, but normally he could’ve expected Ladybug’s professionalism to keep the rest of the team in line. Instead, the attitude he’d respected since day one and come to expect as a given had utterly evaporated: Ladybug had been basically drooling over his abs. She’d been staring at him the way Plagg looked at Camembert right before he swallowed it whole, like she wanted to just—well. And then... he’d basically had to get naked again for Ladybug to cast the cure—only for her to get so distracted staring at him that she’d dropped the pajamas about four stories, and Queen Bee had had to swing down and grab them because nobody else had been in any condition to concentrate (especially with Carapace absolutely boggled over his sneak peek of his girlfriend’s outfit for the evening).

Too little sleep and the constant bouncing of his thoughts between the two women was frying his poor kitty brain. Honestly, he was lucky he’d made it to patrol at all, much less without tripping over his own two feet—or over something else that was making it rather hard for him to run.

Though his partner for the evening certainly seemed to think otherwise.

"Ugh!” Queen Bee yelled from a rooftop across the street, throwing up her hands. “You are utterly useless tonight, you know that?”

Chat shook his head, trying to dispel thoughts of Marinette’s fingers on his skin or Ladybug’s lips on his face. “S-Sorry!” he yelped. “I’ll... hang on. Be there in a sec.”

Queen Bee groaned. “What’s the point?” she said. She bent her legs, bounding across the street to land next to him with a scatter of shingles. “You’re just going to keep mooning over her all evening anyway, might as well stop here.”

Chat grumbled. He wanted to say he wasn’t mooning, but... he was. He totally was.

Queen Bee clapped his shoulder. “Come on, Hairball,” she said. “Why the long face? I figured you’d be happy you finally got with Ladybug.”

Chat narrowed his eyebrows and shot her a sidelong glance. “Got with?”

Queen Bee frowned. “Wait,” she said. “You’re not...?”

Chat snorted, shaking his head, and decided that standing was for chumps. He collapsed onto his butt.

”Oh, come on!” Queen Bee said, joining him on the ground/roof much more gracefully, crossing her legs as she sat. “We all saw the way she was looking at you today, you had to have done something.”

Chat shook his head and shrugged. “If something happened, I don’t know about it.”

“Well, damn,” Queen Bee said. She put a finger to her chin. “So... she’s still available...?” she said, more to herself than Chat.

“Bee,” Chat growled.

Bee’s eyes widened and she clenched her fists against the tiles of the roof. “I said that out loud?” she said, a horrified blush filling her cheeks.

Chat snorted again, the settled back onto his arms. “Hey, uh, Chloé?” he said. “You’re in the same class as... as Marinette Dupain-Cheng, right?”

Queen Bee blinked, then raised an eyebrow. “You know her?”

”Yeah, she’s a...” Chat bit his lip. “She’s a friend.”

Bee’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my god,” she said, shoving his shoulder. “You have a crush!”

Chat crossed his arms above his head and ducked, trying to ward off further snacks to the upper body. “I do not!” he yelped, but it sounded weak even to him. He could feel his human ears burning as his face turned red, and he sighed, lowering his arms and looking at Queen Bee with what he hoped was a plaintive expression. “Please,” he said. “Don’t tell Ladybug.”

Queen Bee placed her hand over her mouth, fingers touching her lips, trying to hold in her laughter but not really doing that at all.

”I’m serious!” Chat yelped. His face fell. “She’ll think I’m... she’ll... she’ll think I’m  a cad.”

”Oh, Chat,” Bee said, placing her hand on his shoulder. “You can do better than Dupain-Cheng.” She waved her other hand in a sort of half-shrug. “Besides, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Chat turned to her, questioning.

Bee sighed. “You know my friend Adrien Agreste? The model?”

Chat’s lips twisted upward in a wry grin.

Bee nodded. “She’s completely head-over-heels for him,” she said, and Chat felt his heart leap. Marinette... she liked him? Like... more than like?

He almost didn’t notice when Queen Bee looked away and her eyes grew somber. “Nobody else has ever been able to catch her eye,” she murmured, her voice dripping with disappointment.

Chat blinked. “Wait a second,” he said. “You—do you have a crush?”

”What!?” Bee shrieked, throwing her hands up, palms toward him. “No, I—I’m not—I don’t—I’m straight...” She trailed off, horrified.

Chat smirked. “Are you telling me,” he said, “that you wouldn’t kiss Ladybug if you had the chance?”

Bee grimaced. “That doesn’t count,” she muttered. “Everyone would.”

Chat opened his mouth to reply, but then his cat ears twitched at the familiar wizz-crack of Ladybug’s yo-yo. He turned, confused—it wasn’t her turn to patrol, what was she...

Ladybug tripped halfway up the roof, rolling forward and smacking straight into Chat's chest. They both stumbled, but he wrapped his arms around her, trying his best to hold her up.

"Thissss... it’s your fault, you stupid..." She jabbed him in the chest with her finger. "Stupid... pretty... face!" She giggled, then went limp, collapsing into Chat's arms.

"Ladybug?" Chat gasped. "Are you okay?"

"Mmmmmmfine," she drawled. Then she giggled. "Don't tell Tikki," she whispered. "She thinks I'm home."

"Oh my god," Queen Bee said, covering her mouth. "She's drunk."

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Marinaked Archive

Ladybug rolled her arm, pointed to Queen Bee. "You got... good int-in-intui..." She snorted. "You know things."

”What do we do?” Chat whispered, trying to hold up his Lady. She staggered against him, giggling.

”Have you ever been drunk?” Bee said.

Chat shook his head. “Not once ever.”

Bee rolled her eyes. “Why am I not surprised,” she said, reaching forward to poke Ladybug between her eyebrows. (Ladybug’s eyes crossed, and she whined—and Chat’s suit suddenly got a lot tighter.)

”You have?” Chat said, his voice strangled, trying to take his mind off the cuddly girl in skintight spandex who was currently attached to his side.

Bee scoffed, flipping her ponytail. “What, you think I can get through a political event without being utterly sloshed?” she said. “Your faith in me is astounding.” She put her hand under Ladybug’s chin, tilting her face up. “First thing—”

”Hey sexy,” Ladybug interrupted. “Mmm. Sexy bee.”

Bee went beet red, and Chat gagged on his tongue.

”Sexy kitty,” she continued, slumping over into Chat’s shoulder. “Wanna... abs.”

”Okay!” Bee squeaked. “She, uh, she needs... water!” She nodded to herself, pointedly looking away from Ladybug. “Water, right, yes.”

Chat felt Ladybug’s hands begin to trace gentle circles across his chest, and it was like a red-hot steel rod had been shoved up his spine. “Right!” he yelped. “Okay, water, sure, sounds... good?”

”Mm, yeah,” Ladybug whispered into his ear, her hot breath tickling his neck. “I’m thirsty.”

Chat gulped. He was so utterly doomed.

”She—she needs a bed,” Bee stammered. “Do you... know where she lives?”

”And how the crap would I know that, Chloé?” Chat shouted. “I have no idea who she—”

He was interrupted by the feeling of his bell zipper descending as Ladybug tugged it down his chest.

He gulped. “L-Ladybug?”

She kept pulling, slowwwwwllly unzipping the front of his suit, tooth by agonizing tooth. ”You saw me naked, isss only fair...”

Chat snatched her wrist. ”What are you talking about?” Chat said. “I was the one who got stripped today, not you.”

Ladybug giggled. “Oh right,” she said, releasing the bell and tracing her finger down the newly exposed flesh. “Wrong one.”

Chat shivered with guilty delight—she was going to kill him.

”Okay, Ladybug,” Queen Bee said, grabbing their leader’s shoulders and pulling her away from Chat. “Let’s—”

Ladybug clumsily slapped Bee’s hand away. “Wait your turn!” She turned back to Chat, pressing her cheek against his abs, and sighed in pleasure.

Chat and Bee met each other’s eyes in shock. If there wasn’t steam billowing from the neck of his suit, Chat would eat a whole wheel of Camembert.

“Doesn’t Rena know?” Bee whispered.

”Date,” Chat responded in a low tone. “Cara makes her turn her phone off.”

Queen Bee closed her eyes, swallowed, pushed her bangs out of her face. “Okay,” she said. “I have an idea.” She cupped Ladybug’s face with her hands. “Hey, Ladybug?”

The spotted heroine jerked to attention. “Yes I am Loodyboog,” she said, her eyes wandering.

Chat snorted.

“Think you can swing over a few buildings with us?”

Ladybug unslung her yo-yo and began to spin it, forcing Chat to leap out of the way lest he be brained with it again. “Course I can,” she slurred. “Watch me go.”

*

Queen Bee touched down on the carpet just outside the Hotel Grand Paris, not even slowing as she transitioned smoothly from swinging to marching straight past the doorman, through the front door, and into the lobby. “Antoine!” she shouted, marching straight up to the receptionist.

He jerked, staring at her. “Mademoiselle Bourgeois!” he said. “We weren’t expecting you back for another forty minutes.”

“Emergency,” she said. “Pollen, buzz off.” Her transformation fell, and Chloé pointed toward the front door, where a clearly inebriated Ladybug was stumbling through the door, supported by her partner’s shoulder. “Do we have a room available for Ladybug?”

Antoine boggled. “Erm... yes,” he said, tapping frantically at his keyboard. “We have several rooms available... I suggest the one right next to yours.”

”Perfect,” Chloé said. “Thank you, Antoine.”

”Where’s Queen Bee?” Ladybug said breathlessly, peering around the lobby with wide eyes.

”Bugaboo, we need to go upstairs now,” Chat said, holding up her head and steering her toward the elevator.

”Send up water!” Chloé called behind her as she dashed after the heroes. “And coffee! She’ll need it!”

*

Ladybug conked out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

”I can’t leave her,” Chat said, staring down at her peaceful form. “Not like this.”

”You’re welcome to stay,” Chloé said, knowing he wouldn’t.

Chat shook his head. “My—my parents are going to miss me,” he said, his voice tinged with fear.

She didn’t miss the way he stumbled over the word “parents”—it was no secret among the Miracusquad that Chat Noir probably had the worst home life out of anyone on the team. She doubted he actually had both parents. And she could guess what might happen if he was “missed.”

”Go home, Chat,” she said, massaging his shoulder. “I’ll look after her. I promise.”

He turned to her with glistening eyes. “Thank you,” he said, catching her hand between his. “My Queen.”

And then he was out the window, and Chloé settled down to wait.

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