A/N: yeah it's a cheesy song lyric title. From It's U by Cavetown which has big post-reveal love square vibes but, in another twist of fate, this fic is solely ladynoir

Dedicated to maketea, who has had the biggest hand in making me a ladynoir stan

Marinette rested her hands on her hips, watching in amusement as her partner finished wedging his staff in the crack in the dilapidated rooftop.

"This is a horrible idea," she said idly.

His tongue stuck out as he tried wiggling the stick, ensuring that it was secured fast. "Come on, Bugaboo, none of your ideas have ever been horrible."

Strictly speaking, this wasn't her idea. She'd only wondered how far Chat's baton could extend, if its length was as infinite as her yo-yo's string. It was her ridiculous, adrenaline-junkie partner who wanted to ride the baton up as far as it could go.

Not that it was that dangerous, really. They'd done it a few times to scout for some akuma or another during attacks. Besides, it would be nice to see the city from such a height without a threat looming over them—or below them.

"It wasn't an idea. It was a question," she still said on principle. "I didn't think you were actually going to test it."

He rested his chin on the top of the baton and grinned. "How long have you known me? I'm not majoring in Physics for nothing."

"You're not majoring in Physics." She leaned in to flick his nose, which only made him grin wider. "Not for another two months, and not ever if you become a pancake by pulling some stupid stunt before then."

"How could I hurt myself? I'll have my amazing partner right there to catch me if I fall." He winked.

Her stomach twisted like pretzel dough—from nerves about the height, that was all.

"Don't go treating me like a parachute, kitty. I'll be more likely to rip my arm out of its socket if I have to yo-yo us out of this."

Or she'd have to use Lucky Charm and hope for an actual parachute, but it probably wouldn't come to that. Silly as her kitty could be, he never let her down when it mattered.

"Don't worry. I'll be extra careful, I Pawmise." He crossed his heart with one claw, still grinning like he was already on top of the world.

Ridiculous or not, this idea was worth it just to see him so excited. He'd been bouncing all night since she'd agreed.

"You'd better," she warned, though her voice was warm.

His grin reached Cheshire proportions as he wrapped one arm securely around the metal staff and extended the other to her. "One catapult, going up."

"Oh no." She laughed. "Points for the pun, but please don't tell me you're going to launch us."

"I already said I'll be careful. Don't tell me the fearless Ladybug is actually scared?"

"Pffff, you wish. You just want me to hold on tighter." Her fingers threaded through his teasingly before slipping out just as he tried to kiss her knuckles.

His lips pursed in a pout. "You know me too well, my Lady. ...But seriously, please hold on. I know you can catch yourself if you have to, but I'd really rather not drop you in the first place."

"That makes two of us."

She wrapped one arm around his waist and secured the other at his shoulder. His feet lifted off the ground to brace against the staff, leaving his thigh as a comfortable seat.

Enjoying this, huh? She almost expected him to tease as she snuggled closer—because she did want to be safe. It was almost disappointing when he neglected to quip though. Maybe she wasn't clinging tightly enough after all.

"So high do you think we'll go?" He asked, holding her by the waist as she finished getting settled. "Think we'll be dodging planes tonight?"

"I doubt it. Even if we technically could go that high, we shouldn't. It'll be freezing up there."

"What, afraid I won't be able to keep you warm?" He teased with a gentle nuzzle to the size of her head.

Had it always been this difficult to keep from leaning into his touch? Not that she couldn't, but, well—if she gave into his jokes, he'd have no reason to continue.

"Why don't you just focus on getting us up there at all." She kept her voice flat, hiding any trace of that brief thought.

"Whatever you say, Bugaboo."

For all his earlier joking, their ascent started fairly slow, more like an elevator than a catapult. It gave her plenty of time to take in the sights below—the warm lights flickering from windows, divided by the dark swath of the Seine. Streets radiating out from the Arc de Triomphe like spokes on a wheel, cars inching their way down them like little lightningbugs. And of course, the Eiffel Tower, sparkling in the distance, a homing beacon that never failed to bring a smile to her lips.

Paris. Their city.

"Pretty amazing, huh," Chat breathed beside her. With their arms around each other and the glittering lights below, it was easy to pretend they were rulers surveying their kingdom.

...Chat had must have been calling Marinette Princess too much. Or else his My Lady's were going to her head.

Royal daydreams or not, though, there was no one she'd rather have beside her—no one else she could have beside her. And not just because it was his baton that held them aloft, his embrace that made her feel as secure as if she stood on solid ground. She would have been crushed under the weight of her superhero mantle if he weren't there to share it. Staring down at just how many people depended on them, it was impossible to forget that.

"Does it ever feel like too much?" She whispered the doubt that had been nagging at her more and more lately. She tried to stay strong for the team's morale, but when it was just her partner and the hushed sky, her necessary barriers wore thin.

"Does what feel like too much?" He replied just as quietly. His face turned to hers, emerald irises glinting in the moonlight, closer than she'd prepared herself to handle.

The pretzel twist in her stomach made a reappearance, but she was hardly thinking about the height.

"You know. All of this." She couldn't let go to gesture to the glowing city beneath them, but he seemed to understand anyway. "We're the only ones standing between all of them and two adult supervillains. And even after all these years, we still haven't found them."

Her voice cracked a little on that last sentence. The uncomfortable truth they'd been dancing around for the last few months—longer, really, but it became more and more urgent as lycee ended and they prepared to go to University. Most of their team of miraculous wielders (not Chat, of course) would be leaving Paris. This was the last summer they would be together, and the last summer they could be kids, only they hadn't really been kids for four years now thanks to Hawkmoth and Mayura—

And maybe that was why she agreed to this crazy idea. Because they were kids, dang it, and she deserved to do something silly and dumb with the one person she trusted more than anyone in the world. She wanted to spend time with him outside of taking down Hawkmoth's villain of the day. She wanted them to just be together.

Wait. Not together, together—just, like, as friends. Who could spend time together without wearing magical suits and masks. She wanted to sew them matching shirts, and text him cat memes at two a.m., and kick his butt at video games. Which she could do as Marinette, but—she wanted him to know it was her, too.

The sheer force of that longing took her by surprise, and only multiplied her hatred for Hawkmoth a hundredfold.

"Hey, Little Bug," Chat said softly. His arm tightening around her dissolved the complicated web of her thoughts. "We're goingto find him. And it's not just us anymore. Pegasus is analyzing all the data Rena's collected, remember? And we've got her and Carapace alternating patrols with Ryuuko and Viperion. We can even call in Queen Bee or Bunnyx or King Monkey if we need to. We've never been closer to taking Hawkmoth down."

He was right. They weren't alone. They never would've survived the combined powers of Hawkmoth and Mayura if it weren't for their team, especially since sentimonsters started regularly joining the fray two years ago.

Still, there was something about sitting with Chat among the pinprick stars that brought her back to before then. When it was just the two of them against the world.

Was it weird that she sometimes missed that?

"I know," she murmured. Her forehead leaned against his chest, where the steady thump-thump of his heart calmed her own. "Sorry, Chat. I shouldn't worry."

"I don't think anyone could stop you from worrying." His chin rested on her head, his warmth and familiar scent cocooning her. Roses and leather and cheese, juxtaposed in a way that was so uniquely him. "I doubt Paris would still be standing if you didn't worry. But it's going to be okay. I promise."

The rational part of her brain wanted to ask how he could say that. The newspapers cried out against them at every mistake, at every day that drew them closer to the fifth anniversary of Hawkmoth's appearance.

But the other part of her brain, the part that had worked in tandem with him long enough that trusting him was second nature, calmed at his reassurance.

"Who knows," he continued. "Maybe we'll kick Hawkmoth's butt before summer ends, and then we can throw a party before everyone splits for University. The whole team can show up. We'll get Multimouse to bring the pastries. Carapace can blast us some sick tunes. I'm sure Queen Bee can get us a venue…"

Marinette giggled at the thought of all the miraculous wielders, unmasked and just hanging out like normal friends, no more worries than what they were going to do in University. Alix and Kim would probably (definitely) end up in some kind of competition, powered by their miraculouses or not. Luka would serenade Kagami with his guitar instead of Viperion's lyre. Speaking of which, Marinette wondered if Adrien's brief stint as Aspik would mean he would be there… and how he would get along with Chat Noir. For some reason, she had a feeling it would be odd to see them together.

Regardless, it was a dream worth fighting for. A dream worth hoping for.

"I'm sure Multimouse would love that," she said, hiding her smirk against his collarbone. By the time such a party could happen, Chat would know the truth about her dual identity, anyway. "I know I would."

"There's only one thing that would make it better." Chat's voice turned teasing.

"Oh, yeah? What's that?"

He didn't answer as they passed through a cloud, the dampness much colder and all around wetter than she was prepared for. She shivered and sneezed, feeling her pigtails cling to the back of her neck. Chat chuckled and brushed them aside. His claws lingered for the briefest of moments on the sliver of skin between her suit and hairline.

"A private party," he said softly. "Just the two of us, before everyone else."

She pulled back just enough to see his eyes again, intending to tease him about what kind of party he was asking for—but the sincerity and softness in his features stopped her short.

"Y-yeah?"

"Yeah. So we can… I mean, I know I want…" he swallowed for a moment before quietly finishing, "I want you to be the first one to know who I am."

They didn't talk about revealing their identities often—mostly because she made it clear that they couldn't, and she already thought about it enough without tempting either of them by saying it out loud. He was Chat Noir, her partner and best friend, no matter who he was under the mask.

But maybe they should talk about it more, if he thought she would want anything else.

"Of course, Kitty." Carefully, since they were hundreds of kilometers in the air, she moved the arm at his waist to wrap around the back of his neck instead. A few of his damp locks tickled her fingers even though the suit. "I've always wanted you to be the first, too."

His smile could've powered the whole city below. "Then it's settled. Pegasus finds Hawkbutt next week. We storm the castle, Queen Bee Venoms him and Mayura, you rip their miraculouses off, we pound it, and we throw the biggest party Paris has ever seen."

His optimism, if unrealistic, was contagious. She felt the hope untangling knots in her chest as she laughed again.

"I should've left the planning to you, Chaton. Maybe then we'd have beaten Hawkmoth already."

"Nah, we all know you're the brains of the operation, Bugaboo. I'm just here to look pretty." He flipped his soggy hair, and his bangs hit his forehead with a fwap.

She couldn't help the laugh that burst from her. "You're such a dork. I love you."

He froze solid as one of Style Queen's statues. She half expected him to turn to gold, for his warmth to bleed out like the color currently draining from her face.

She said—

She'd said she loved him.

She'd said she loved him, and the words had come out as easy as breathing, as sure as the pounding of her heart. How—why? She didn't love him, not like that, she couldn't couldn't she'd told herself that long ago—

But any denials caught in her lungs, trapped like the dark butterflies snared by her yo-yo. Only when the words were fully purified were they released again.

"I—I love you," she whispered.

She hadn't meant to say it once, much less twice—but with the repetition the truth of it snapped firmly into place. She didn't know when her kitty had snuck past her defenses, slipped past her blinding crush on Adrien, dodged all the logical reasons she had for not falling for him.

But he had.

She loved Chat Noir. Of course she did.

"You—but you—is there an akuma?" He stammered, eyes wide and disbelieving. She'd been turning down his off-and-on (mostly on) flirting for four years now; of course he wouldn't assume she was serious.

"No, Kitty." Her laugh felt suffocating. After all this time she'd been trying to confess to Adrien, and now, when her target was her Kitty, her mouth didn't give her a choice.

Maybe that was for the best. She would always have a special place in her heart for Adrien, but Chat—Chat was her home. Her partner, her friend, her everything.

The twisting in her stomach finally unwound, swelling into something that she could hardly contain. His face was so close, his lips still parted from the three words she'd dropped on him. It would be so easy to lean in and kiss the shock from his face, until he melted in her arms, until they both believed this was real.

But Chat had always respected her boundaries, and she would do the same for him. Besides, what if he didn't feel the same anymore, if his flirting was just habit? And she'd just blurted out her feelings before even she realized them—what if she ruined the comfortable companionship they shared?

No. No, she knew better than that. Even if he didn't feel the same, nothing could tear the two of them apart.

"I know I'm late, but—if you still want me—"

"My Lady." She felt more than heard the tremor of emotion in his voice. "I'll always want you. I always have."

Was this real? How had she gone from flirting with her partner to baring her heart to him? The liquid moonlight washed aside her walls. His golden hair was spun silver in its glow, and her hands ran through it involuntarily. She was lucky Chat had returned his grip to her waist, because otherwise she might have accidentally slipped off him.

As much as his words made her feel like she could fly, it was best not to test that theory.

"Thanks for waiting for me, Chaton." She rested her forehead against his, still shaking with the realization and love and longing and—how had she ignored this feeling? How long had she wanted him to kiss her senseless before her mind would admit it?

It didn't matter. She knew now, and the electricity that sparked between them wouldn't let her forget anytime soon.

"You know I'd wait forever for you. I love you." His breath fanned across her cheeks, soft and hot and everything she hoped his lips would be. "I love you so so much, Ladybug, I—"

He might be willing to wait forever, but she wasn't. Her lips consumed whatever it was he was going to say next—

And all she knew was that he tasted like coming home.

He matched her passion with a surprising sweetness. It wasn't the intense kiss she was expecting, but maybe that was for the best. He was the only thing keeping them from plummeting to the ground far below, and distracting him probably wasn't the best idea, but frankly after that first touch of lips she was so gone they could've fallen and she wouldn't have noticed—

He yelped against her mouth. Had she done something wrong? She hadn't kissed a boy since Luka two years ago, but she couldn't be that bad—

Oh. She hadn't noticed.

Gravity really wasn't supposed to be tugging in that direction. And the wind wasn't supposed to be blowing up.

And Chat's baton wasn't supposed to be slipping through his fingers.

Gah! She barely had time to think as his arms tightened around her middle so he was hugging her from below. What was he thinking? Did he expect to cushion her fall?

Jolting out of oh-my-gosh-I'm-kissing-Chat mode, she threw her yo-yo from her hip and lassoed the still-upright baton. Only miraculous magic could be holding it steady, especially when she yanked them towards it—

And in a jumble of limbs and string, she promptly tangled them against the metal length.

She heard a sharp crack, followed by a dizzy groan.

"Chat, oh my gosh, are you okay?" The world was still spinning; she couldn't turn to see him. Mostly because her back was pressed flush against his chest.

"Purrfectly fine, my Lady." His laugh sounded near her ear. "I always knew you'd sweep me off my feet."

She rolled her eyes, unsure if she wanted to laugh or groan. She was so stupid. Making out with Chat with nothing but a pole holding them up? Yes, that sounded like something from her romantic fantasies (which she wasn't supposed to have with him, but—shh), but she should've known better in real life!

"You're never going to let me live this down, are you?" She muttered.

He hummed thoughtfully. That sound should not have made her shiver, she was just—it was just cold. Even though his body was hot against her back.

Yeah, she wasn't kidding anyone.

"I could be purrsuaded to forget," he said to her surprise.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mm-hmm." His chin rested on her shoulder. "For the low price of fifty more kisses."

"Fifty?" She choked, face heating. Fifty brushes of his lips on hers, of his laugh filling her lungs— "I—I don't know. Actually, you're the one who let go of the staff. I might've kissed you first, but you're the one who should be getting teased."

"Fair enough. A hundred kisses, then. Fifty for me to forget, and fifty for you to forgive me for dropping you."

"Bold words from a guy who couldn't even handle kissing me once." She would've flicked his bell if her arms weren't trapped over his around her middle.

"Ah, it just means I need more practice!"

She twisted her head just enough to stick her tongue out at him. "You won't get any practice if you don't get us down from here."

"Oh. Uh. About that… I can't reach the button." He laughed awkwardly. "You mind untangling us?"

The magical properties of her yo-yo meant she could still retract the string even tangled as it was, but it would take a minute to lasso them back to the baton properly this time.

"Only if you don't mind falling again."

"For you? Never," he said with a quick kiss to her cheek.

She shook her head. She refused to be distracted by him this time, even if his smell was everywhere, more dizzying than their brief fall through the clouds.

"You're such a dork."

"But you love me," he practically sang.

Despite the fact that they were hanging in an awkward position hundreds of meters in the air, her nerves vanished completely.

"Yeah, Kitty. I do."

(That truth was far more important than learning how far Chat's baton could extend, anyway.)

A/N: And then next week they beat hawkbutt and ship him and nathalie off to jail and everyone in the whole team comforts Adrien and he and marinette live happily ever after with a hamster