little by little

nothing behind the mask

not me abandoning this fic for eight months only to return with humorous fluff... no...

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Marinette nudged Chat Noir with her leg. "Hey."

Chat blinked himself out of his distant thoughts and looked down at Marinette, who was spread out across the bench they'd taken up in the park. They'd begun to make a tradition of going to different places at 1 AM on Fridays (or, technically, Saturdays), and today, she had chosen the park.

(He usually let her choose, if only to see the thrilled gleam in her eyes when he appeared at 12:55 AM on the dot. Their sleeping schedules were absolute shit, but neither of them ever complained.)

Marinette's head was on the other side of the bench, cradled by her arms, and the crest of her knees were propped up on his lap. Her feet dangled carelessly on his other side, and the boots she wore looked like they were slowly sliding off.

"What are you thinking about?" she prodded, nudging him in the side again.

Chat sent her a playful scowl. "None of your business."

Marinette had the gall to look offended. Crossing her arms over her chest, she said, "Everything is my business because I'm nosy."

Chat snorted. "Ain't that the truth."

"Hey!" Another jab, this time from her knee. "Rude."

"Phone thief."

"Possessive bonehead."

"Once! It happened once!"

"Smelly Chat."

"That's just mean."

Marinette poked her tongue out at him, eyes glittering with amusement. "You're just mean."

Chat's hand found his chest in a dramatic swoon. "Comeback of the century, really. You've got me once again, Princess. Hey! Would you stop kneeing me? You're bony."

Marinette giggled into her hand. "You practically begged me to with that snarky face."

"Me and my snarky face did no such thing."

"Mhm."

They settled back into a comfortable silence. These, Chat decided, were his favorite times. When he didn't linger too much on the way his heart fluttered under her teasing gaze; when he ignored the warmth seeping through his suit from her legs; when he could just breathe without wondering why it was easier to do so when she was around. He was sick of trapping himself in his own head.

He looked down at her. Her eyes were fixed on the starry sky overhead, hair splayed out over her arms. Her head was tipped back, mouth pursing before relaxing.

Chat shifted his leg to jostle her. Her gaze flicked to his face, and a smile pulled at her lips.

"What?" she asked.

Her smile was infectious. "Nothing."

"What?" she asked again, tapping his side with her knuckles. "Why are you looking at me like that?"