Geek Fashionista

ChloNath Week Day 7: (Chloebug and Chat Nath) AU. Thanks for joining in on the fun, everyone! :D

~*~

A tap on Chloe’s balcony door made her look up from her Twitter feed. As far as she could see, no one was there, but it wasn’t the first time she’d received that phantom knock. “Wait here, Tikki,” she said to her kwami, who gave her a disapproving stare but otherwise remained silent. She got up and walked over to the door.

Chat Noir had parked himself on her favorite lounge, pretending to sunbathe in broad moonlight. He’d even put on the pair of sunglasses she’d left on the table earlier that afternoon. She joined him outside in her slippers and bathrobe.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Tanning,” Chat Noir replied. “Can you tell me when five minutes have passed? I need to flip myself over.”

She pulled her sunglasses off his face. “What do you want, Puss in Boots?”

He sat up and flashed her a toothy grin. The moonlight caught in his red hair and made his sea green eyes glitter. “Just wanted to check on you, purrincess. You got hurt in today’s akuma attack, didn’t you?”

Chloe sat next to him. “I’m fine. Ladybug’s undo thingy fixed me up.” Though it had been a major pain trying to subdue an akuma with a sprained ankle. She hadn’t felt the sprain, but the longer she ran on it, the harder it became to move. And as if that wasn’t annoying enough, she’d had to make sure Chat Noir didn’t notice anything was wrong with her.

Chat Noir took her hand in his. She stared at his ring, the glowing green paw with all five pads present. “I was worried about you,” he said.

Chloe’s face warmed. “You shouldn’t say things like that. A civilian like me might get the wrong idea.”

He tilted her chin up. “What if you have the right idea?”

She had half a mind to kiss him right then and there, but she could imagine the lecture Tikki would give her for complicating their already complicated relationship. She sighed, put her hand on Chat Noir’s chest, and gently pushed him back. “I appreciate your concern, Chat Noir. Contrary to what you might think, there aren’t many people who’d bother to worry about me.”

“Ah, Chloe,” he said with a sad smile, “that’s exactly why I came.” 

The urge to kiss him multiplied tenfold, but he sprang to his feet and vaulted up onto the roof before she got the chance. “You know, you should show your softer side more often,” he said.

“Why? So people can take advantage of me?”

He saluted her. “You’re too smart for that!” 

Chloe laughed and waved as he dropped down out of sight, no doubt headed towards the next stop on his patrol route. She could have joined him, just to spend that little bit of extra time with him, even if he wouldn’t know it was her. 

But the last thing she needed was to fall deeper for her partner than she already had.

Chlonath Week Day 5: First Kiss/Holding Hands

~*~

How did you find out my identity?

The first time she asked him, he smiled at her and said “Wouldn’t you like to know?” before walking away.

But Chloe Bourgeois was nothing if not tenacious, so a few days later, she sat beside him in the school courtyard at lunch and asked him again.

“How did I find out?” he asked in the tone of someone who knew very well how, but didn’t feel like telling her. She waited one minute. He said nothing. Five minutes. He hummed to himself. The entire lunch period passed by in relative silence that was, to her utmost frustration, not entirely unpleasant. And when the bell finally rang, he packed up his things and said, “We should do this again sometime.”

Two nights later, she dropped by his house. In costume.

“Tell me how you found out,” she demanded.

“It’s four in the morning,” he said, and shut the window in her face.

And so it went.

Days became weeks. Weeks turned to months. Her stubbornness—certainly not her attraction to him—wouldn’t allow her to leave him alone. And though he refused to tell her, he did not discourage her from asking. 

In fact, one might guess by the way he left his window open for her at night, or the snacks he carried for her kwami, or the countless seats that he saved for her, or the invitations to cafes and movies, that he encouraged her to keep asking.

Until one evening, when they sat in his room doing homework together while her kwami napped among his art supplies—when she hadn’t even asked him at all—he said, “Your lips gave you away.”

She turned a questioning look on him.

“For the Queen Bee painting, I needed a lot of references, so I went looking for every photo and video I could get my hands on. In one of them, you made a face at something and I got the strongest sense of deja vu.”

“My lips,” she said. “Really?”

He reached over and traced her bottom lip with his thumb. “Really.”

And with that question finally answered, she closed the distance between them and pressed her lips against his.

Because over time, she had become curious about a great many other things as well.

Chlonath Week Day 3: Art

~*~

On the first Friday of the month, an art gallery filled exclusively with works dedicated to the heroes of Paris opened, and Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Queen Bee were invited to attend.

“I kind of feel bad showing up in costume, though,” Ladybug muttered as they walked through the gallery, admiring each piece. “One of these days, I’ll have to design—err, buy a skirt to slip on over this suit.”

“You leave that to me, Ladybug. I’ll buy you all the skirts you could ever want. We are besties, after all,” Queen Bee said. Her eyes skipped over the umpteenth Chat Noir painting and scanned the room for a hint of yellow. She knew she was still a newbie, but…

“If anyone’s going to buy Ladybug a skirt, it’ll be me,” Chat Noir said. “For our moonlit stroll along the Seine,” he added with a purr and waggle of his eyebrows.

Ladybug sighed. “Or we could just forget I said anything.”

Queen Bee wandered away from the might-as-well-be-married superhero couple and stepped through a doorway into another part of the gallery. More Ladybug pieces. More Chat Noir pieces. She had just about given up on finding anything dedicated to her when she turned and came face-to-face with a Queen Bee painting that must have been two feet taller than she was. It dominated the entire wall, depicting her in a warrior’s stance with a blazing sunset behind her. 

She looked fearsome. Powerful. Awe-inspiring. But the expression on her face was a gentle one—a superhero who loved her city above everything else.

It filled her with shame.

Her gaze caught on the signature in the corner and she laughed. Nathanael Kurtzberg. How had she expected anyone else?

“Wow!” Chat Noir cried from behind her. “That’s amazing, Bee! You must be flattered.”

She took a deep breath, then turned. “Of course I’m flattered. It’s about time someone in this city acknowledged my magnificence.” She brushed past him. “I’m done here. Tell Ladybug I went home,” she said.

“Oh, uh… okay. Good night, Bee.”

She made it a block away from the art gallery before she took off running, her vision blurred by tears.

Chlonath Week Day 1: Bickering/Flirting. A day late, but I was busy. TwT

~*~

Chloe Bourgeois did not understand what the heck was so great about Nathanael Kurtzberg.

She’d gone to middle school with the guy. As far as she knew, he was a weird little twerp with long hair and nothing going for him in the body department. So why was it that every other girl she passed in the hallway seemed to be giggling over him? One summer vacation could not possibly change such a “not” to a “hot.”

“Sorry Chloe,” Sabrina said as she led the way to the art classroom during lunch. “I don’t know why I keep forgetting my biology textbook in there.”

Chloe snorted. “What are you apologizing for? Just hurry up so we can get some real food.” She’d made a reservation for them at their favorite restaurant between classes that morning and she wasn’t about to lose it. Sabrina had been craving their food for weeks.

When they entered the art classroom, Chloe looked around with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. She liked art, but she hated the art process. Too dirty. Too hard. Adrien had accidentally spilled paint on her favorite purse when they were kids, and she’d screamed bloody murder until her father bought her a new one. She forgave Adrien, of course, but the whole ordeal had left her traumatized.

There were other students in the room: a girl putting together some complicated sculpture, a trio of three others crocheting in the corner, a boy painting a fruit bowl, and a redhaired guy sitting on the windowsill with a sketchbook balanced on his long legs.

Chloe did a double take.

Long red hair pulled back into a short ponytail. Sea green eyes narrowed in concentration. Those parts were certainly familiar, but the jaw… the arm muscles… the longer legs and the form-fitting shirt that left nothing to the imagination…

“Can I help you, Chloe?”

Her eyes darted from body to face. Nathanael Kurtzberg stared straight at her.

And he was hot. 

With growing horror, Chloe realized that her mouth was open—she hadn’t just been caught staring, she’d been caught gawking.

“No! You can’t!” she screamed, causing everyone else in the room to stare at her as well. Humiliation turned her cheeks crimson. She had to salvage the situation somehow. “What, you thought that I was staring at you? Get real! It’s not my fault you decided to sit in the window. A-And who does that, anyway? Overly sensitive, artsy freaks like you?”

Something dark flickered across Nathanael’s face for a moment. And then, to her shock and perverted delight, he smiled. “I see,” he said. He turned his attention back to his sketchbook. “That’s fair. You’ve never been much to look at yourself.”

Chloe squeaked with fury, but by then Sabrina had scurried to her side, textbook in hand. “Come on, Sabrina!” she snapped, too flustered to even think up a decent response to the insult. She’d have one ready for the next time she saw him in the hallway.

Because she was never stepping foot in the art room again.