WAIT NO Benthan + “you really are extraordinary” instead
One thing about Benji Dunn is that he likes to talk. No, not even talk, he likes to speak.
Which, honestly, isn't his fault, not entirely : he's been brought up in a rather distant environment, and none of his achievements got his parents' saying more than a 'good job,' or getting him a handshake. A handshake !
So yes, to make up for this crippling need of approval, Benji Dunn likes to speak, to say anything and everything, and hopefully then someone would like what he has to say. Maybe.
Which leads him to now, walking in the middle of Paris with a bleeding Ethan who had a concussion, resting on his shoulder and his unrelenting need to fill in the silence.
"And then I was like, hum. Well, okay I don't exactly remember what I said, but it was not nice, and the guy looked at me really meanly, and I—"
"Benj," his friend softly interrupts, barely conscious, "someone's walking up to us."
"Huh ? Oh, shit. Avert your eyes."
"Don't think I can even keep them open."
"L'est pété ton pote ?" (Is your friend drunk ?) one of the guys who was walking towards them asks, something like mockery in his tone, "ça fait toujours la teuf, à votre âge ?" (Still partying at your old age ?)
"Don't look at them, don't look at them..."
Ethan's bodyweight is affecting him a little more than he'd like to admit, and he's doing his utmost best not to collapse. The mission had him getting a nasty cut on his left arm.
"HÉ OH, J'TE CAUSE !" (HEY, I'M TALKING TO YOU !)
Oh, for fuck's sake.
Thing is, he knows Ethan can speak French, because he's read his file and he's heard him do it before. And it was really attractive. But right now, Ethan isn't in any shape to do anything else but fight for his survival, so it was up to him to manage.
"Vous savez comment c'est, Pigalle..." (You know how it is, Pigalle...) he blurts out with a gulp, the small trace of an English accent in his voice. Maybe those intensive courses in Oxford did find their usefulness. "On a peut-être trop bu." (Maybe we had too much to drink.)
"L'a l'air en bien mauvais état ton poto," (your buddy looks in bad shape,) another man adds, eyeing him from head to toe. "Si j'te disais de vider tes poches là, tu f'rais quoi ?" (If I told you to empty your pockets, what would you do ?)
Okay, this was getting really fucking ridiculous. They were NOT getting mugged right after a shitty mission. He did not have time for that.
"J'sais pas," (I dunno,) Benji carefully replies. "Non, je pense." (No, I think.)
"Tu penses ? Il se prend pour qui, le rosbif ?!" (You think ? Who does the Brit think he is ?!)
"Allez mon reuf, fais c'qu'on te dit," (c'mon bro, do what we're telling you,) the first man grins, taking a small pocket knife out of his puffy jacket. "Sinon..." (Or else...)
"Benj ? We need to go," Ethan is mumbling against him, and the blood is still pouring and coating his hair. "What..."
"Allez, file ta thune !" (C'mon, give us your money !)
"Non, j'ai pas envie," (no, I don't wanna,) Benji replies with a loud sigh, clearly irritated. "Dégagez." (Get lost.)
"FILS DE—" (SON OF A—)
Suddenly there's a gun in the agent's hand (his own, actually,) and he's brandishing it annoyedly at the three men in front of him.
"Non, sérieux. Dégagez." (Nah, for real. Get lost.)
"Les gars—" (Guys—)
"J'ai passé une soirée de merde," (I just had a shit night,) Benji continues, and Ethan's looking at him with stars in his eyes, "alors sérieux, barrez-vous." (So seriously, get the fuck out.)
There's a few seconds where the men seem to gauge him, but then their apparent leader just turns on his heels, taking off in the darkness, the two others right behind him. He lowers his weapon.
"Okay, we really need to get you to the van," he mumbles as he puts it back in his pants, "you're going to lose all your blood at this pace."
"I didn't know you could speak French," Ethan simply notes, completely dazed. "You really are extraordinary."
"Sure, mister-I-speak-15-languages."
"You sound hot when you speak French," his friend grins, his smile slightly loopy. "Very attractive, you should do it more often..."
"Je prends note," (I'm noting that down) Benji snorts before making him rest against him more comfortably. "Learnt it at uni, with Russian and Italian. I wanted to sound cool."
"Well, I like discovering new things about you."
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Bad Dates
After their blind date, the two heroes decide to set aside a little time to bond -- while talking about terrible dates they've been on. Obviously.
Please read Just Acquaintances (Stars Aligned) by ggomo_springtime first as it inspired my story below. This is for you, @ggomomomo!
~~~~~~~
Ladybug sat atop the Arc de Triomphe, her lazy gaze settled on the lights of Paris while awaiting her partner for their post-patrol chat. However, tonight wasn’t about akumas or battle strategies or even the current leads on Hawkmoth… No, tonight they had scheduled just for fun. Something out of the ordinary for the two superheroes but, with the recent blind date fiasco, the partners had grown closer. Their kwamis had also concluded that this would also improve their teamwork…thus their newly scheduled evening atop Paris. Not that she minded, it was nice to have someone else to talk to that wasn’t attempting to push her into yet another relationship!
Landing near-silently, Chat Noir retracted his baton and stowed it away with a grin. “Evening, Bug. Brought us a little snack. I know you’ve likely been skipping meals due to your commission deadlines again.” He held up and shook a small bag holding five takeout containers.
“Hmph, I can take care of myse—” The smell wafted towards Ladybug, causing her stomach to growl in protest to her words. Chat raised an eyebrow at the noise and watched as the heroine’s cheeks beneath the mask rouged with embarrassment, “Alright, so I may have lost track of time…”
The cat holder rolled his eyes and chuckled fondly, settling down beside her and spreading the containers out between them. “It’s tapas from Les Apotres de Pigalle on rue Germaine Pilon. Figured something small and shareable would be best while we’re suited up.” Containers were opened, revealing everything from a delicate cheese platter to quesadillas to macaroni and cheese – there was an obvious theme to the selections: cheese.
Ladybug raised an eyebrow and Chat’s grin turned a bit sheepish, “Yes, Plagg did assist in the choices this evening.” She rolled her eyes in mock exasperation but refrained from making a comment. They both tucked into the food before laying back with full stomachs to look at the stars.
“You should have heard the comments the girls made after our ‘date’ the other night!” Ladybug giggled, tapping her feet together softly from where she lay. “They would not let it go!”
Chat Noir smirked as he laid back, propping himself up on his elbows. “My cousin was quite incensed as well. Thanks for helping me lighten his wallet’s burden.”
“Any time, Chat. I had a great time. Far better than the last time they set me up,” she snorted derisively around a bite of quesadilla she had decided to nibble on.
A corner of his black mask raised as he leaned back on his palms, “Oh? Just how low of a bar did I clear?”
She rolled her eyes, “Are you sure you want to hear about my horrible dates?”
Chat’s grin in response would rival the Chesire cat, “Trade you, story for story. You don’t need to give me names or personal details. We don’t need to know if we’ve dated in each other’s social circles by accident.” He waved a clawed glove dismissively to punctuate his point.
“Alright, but you’ve been warned!” Ladybug shook a finger towards her partner with a chuckle. “Let’s see…” Her eyes drifted up to the sky as she ruminated on the details of her disastrous dating life while the black cat took to snacking on one of the treats between them. “Hmm… The last one we’ve taken to calling the ‘Cheeto Guy’…” she began.
“Pfft, what? Cheeto guy? As in the atrocious American snack food?” Chat scoffed.
“Cheeto Guy,” she confirmed with a nod while brushing crumbs from the front of her suit. “He was a friend of a friend, someone I had bumped into randomly at school, seemed nice so said friend arranged for a date. Pretty typical date: had lunch together, chatted for a while, had quite a bit in common…”
“Alright, then where do the Cheetos come in?” The bewildered blond asked, watching her facial expressions.
The spotted heroine leveled a flat look upon him, “After the date. He apparently was so taken with me; he wrote me a poem! Two pages of rhyming prose about how my beauty was so distracting that he spent the entire date thinking about crushing up Cheetos…smearing them on my body…and licking it off.”
For a moment, the only sounds that could be heard were the passing traffic below and the wind in the trees before a loud, barking guffaw was ripped from her companion. “You’re joking, surely? Please tell me you’re joking!”
Ladybug shook her head ruefully, her eyes glittering with mirth at his reaction, “Unfortunately, not! I had planned to burn it, however one of my friends found the poem so hilarious that they took it home with them. I didn’t feel up to a second date after that, I just apologized that I was simply too busy for a relationship.” She giggled and blew a piece of hair from her eyes, “He found someone new and is now happily married.”
“Wow, talk about low standards…” Chat murmured mockingly.
“Hey now, I firmly believe there’s someone out there for everyone! You just have to find the right person.”
He snorted, “I suppose it must be true if Monsieur Cheeto can find someone… Alright, not sure if mine will top yours. Let’s call this one…Shark Girl.” Chat watched as she mouthed the name with a befuddled look on her face. “We were set up for a date through my mother. I took her to get coffee and tried to get to know her. It was glaringly obvious to me that we did not suit, however she had a different opinion for, when I attempted to drop her at home, she lunged across the seat and kissed me.”
The spotted heroine tilted her head in confusion, “Awkward…but why call her—”
“She kissed with her teeth!” The black-clad hero winced at the memory, mimicking the movement with a clawed hand in front of his face. “Her mouth was opened wider than mine, as if she were a lamprey attempting to latch onto my face and had suctioned herself onto my lips! Then she dragged her teeth inward and down, in some odd facsimile of a passionate kiss; felt like a dozen rasps being drawn across my flesh! I was in such a shock that she did this twice before I finally shook her off and kicked her from the car.”
Ladybug was giggling uncontrollably at the description, thoroughly enjoying the looks of disgust and horror as his face oscillated from one to the other. “Oh my gods, that’s… that’s…”
“Abhorrent?” He offered; his features settled into a revolted sneer.
“Hilarious, Chat!” She fell back as her peals of laughter echoed into the night sky.
“I’m glad someone finds my misfortune entertaining,” he rolled his eyes. “My lip was bleeding in two spots by the time I returned home, I’m lucky I didn’t need stitches!”
“Or a rabies shot!” Ladybug wiped a few tears from her eyes as her laughter died into soft hiccups, “I suppose it could be worse!”
“Pray tell, how could it be worse than that, Bug?” He scoffed with disbelief even as his eyes twinkled with humor.
“I met someone at my parent’s bakery that proudly told me he got a tattoo over the weekend…he gave it to himself! Pressed a needle into the skin to make a hole, then took a ballpoint pen and rotated it around until the ink filled it in.”
His mouth dropped open, his eyes wide with shock, “My gods…that is worse!”
She giggled, “Apparently, he also thought it was wise to claim our astrological signs were compatible. Maman shut him down real quick. He hasn’t been back, although I’m not sure if that was because of my mother or the obvious infection he was developing at the tattoo site.”
Chat winced, “I would not want to be on the end of either, I assure you.” They lapsed into silence for a bit as they picked at the swiftly cooling food before them.
“It’s your turn, you know.”
Rolling his eyes with exasperation, he hummed thoughtfully. “How about the date I didn’t think was a date?”
“Wait, wa-what?” She turned and leaned towards him. “How?”
“I…” He blew out a breath and ran a clawed hand through his hair, “I had met someone through a seminar, they invited me to a documentary screening I had expressed interest in, and I accepted. About ten minutes into the show, she reached over and grabbed my hand…”
“Wow, that was bold!” she exclaimed quietly.
“Of course, I immediately realized it was that kind of outing. I wasn’t sure how to react.” He cringed, his hand flexing in his lap as if reliving the moment physically rather than mentally. “Her hands were so clammy and uncomfortable. I have long, boney fingers and hers were thicker so, when she attempted to lace our fingers together, it cut off the circulation and I felt like she was going to crush me…”
Raising a red glove over her mouth, she whimpered sadly. “Oh no, the poor thing! She must have been so nervous!”
“Oh, it gets worse. She must have realized she couldn’t comfortably hold hands that way, so she started stroking my hand – cupping it, rubbing her fingers back and forth over my knuckles, then repeating it over my palm – in the most disturbing way possible.”
“Why didn’t you just, you know, pull away?”
“It wasn’t my…proudest moment, I admit. However, I just wanted to enjoy the documentary, so I resigned myself to soldier through until the end.” The cat hero sighed, his body tense – obviously discomforted by the memory.
“You’re not the only one with some dating guilt…” Ladybug sighed, “There was this guy in my lycée that invited me out to an arcade. You recall that I’m a bit of a gamer, right?” Chat nodded, his shoulders slowly lowering as she spoke. “Well, I get a little competitive,” she admitted sheepishly.
“From what my cousin has told me, that is a gross understatement,” the blond amusingly corrected.
She huffed softly, “Anyway! I kept winning. About an hour into our time there – and in the middle of race number three on Mario Kart – he suddenly ripped the steering wheel off the console, threw it into the screen, and stormed out. Everyone was quite shocked, and a hush fell over the arcade; it was almost as if even the games themselves were momentarily stunned to silence by his vicious display. Apparently, he did not take it kindly being hit with my blue shell on the last lap! Whoops,” she ended cheekily.
“Bug, it sounds like you dodged a bullet with that one. Only you would upset someone by being too good at something!” Chat chuckled. “Did you at least buy him a prize with all your tickets?”
“I’m… actually saving up my credits for one of the top tier prizes. They have a signed copy of UMS III that I’ve had my eye on for months!” Ladybug responded slightly self-consciously as she bit her lip and picked at the hex material of her suit.
Her partner chuckled softly, “You just want your prize and I wanted to watch my documentary.”
“See? We aren’t so different, we’re both selfish!” She smiled gently. They lapsed into a companionable silence, looking out over the city as their words drifted off on the breeze.
“I suppose it could be worse, we could be greedy instead of selfish,” Chat muttered softly. The spotted heroine refocused her attention on him, cocking her head to the side as a sign to continue. “I once agreed to a blind date with a young lady except, when she arrived, she had brought along nine of her friends and demanded I pay for them all simply because I am, and I quote, ‘so flush with cash that ten five-course meals would be a drop in the bucket’ for me; and ‘I expect you to provide a certain quality of lifestyle in our relationship’ end quote.”
Ladybug’s face had morphed into one of scandalized outrage. “Wow, the sense of entitlement! I mean, honestly, the audacity!” She paused and leaned in with a whisper, “Wait, was it one of Chloe’s friends?”
He smirked, “I’ll never tell.”
“That’s confirmation enough!” She chortled gleefully for a minute, her mind awhirl imagining a gaggle of haughty blonds descending upon a restaurant for a blind date.
“Your turn, Bug,” he reminded her jokingly. “What other skeletons lay in that closet of yours? We’re in Paris, there must be one pompous peacock strutting through with his sense of entitlement.”
Shaking her head, she sighed. “Pompous? No. Arrogant and a bit cruel? Yes.”
He laid a clawed hand on her shoulder, his brow scrunched with worry as he attempted to lighten her declining mood, “Cruel? To you? Was he also unable to defeat you in virtual combat?”
“Funny enough, he actually enjoyed watching me game! I met him through my work,” she fiddled with her fingers in her lap as another sigh escaped her lips. “We hit it off immediately. So much in common – video games, fashion tastes, food – even my friends loved him! They called him ‘The Beau’ since he and I agreed to date casually due to the significant distance because he lived in Rouen and was contracted to work here in Paris for a year.”
“An hour and a half is quite the drive…” the cat offered gently.
She chuckled sadly, “Yeah… Well, his contract was coming to an end and he had been having trouble finding further work here. He ended up landing a job in Madrid! I was so happy for him and he insisted that we could make long distance work.” Ladybug stared out upon the city lights, feeling his gaze and the slow circles he was rubbing into her shoulder. “Christmas was coming. Gifts, you should know, is one of my love languages and I…I was definitely falling for him. I remembered that he was interested in this beautiful pocket watch and I had saved up to buy it for him, even had his initials engraved on it…”
The spotted heroine paused to get the growing quiver in her voice under control. “Ahem! He, uh…He was in Rouen for the holidays and we had planned to meet up for a fancy dinner halfway to celebrate. I had asked him about the plan – specifically transport: ‘Are you coming to get me? Am I going to you? Meeting there?’ Pretty basic inquiry! Do you know what he said?”
Chat shook his head silently, taking in her watery blue eyes filled with anger and sadness.
“He said, ‘you’re cute but not three hours round trip cute.’ As if I had not been traveling out there to see him before! As if he was deserving of my effort to see him but I wasn’t worthy of his effort! As if my time was less precious than his own!” She scoffed, “Here I am, fighting akumas and attempting to defeat a magical super villain and I’m the one that isn’t—anyway! So, I rightly called it off and asked where I should send his gift. It’s personalized, not like I was going to keep it. He told me, ‘I live in a tiny flat, what makes you think I want more junk?’ I was so, so angry! I convinced him to open it and, if he didn’t want it, he could toss it out for all I cared!”
The black clad hero surreptitiously watched for akuma butterflies on the horizon as the rage rolled off his partner in waves, giving her a moment to simply feel without worry. The concern was unneeded as the roiling emotions were just as quickly snuffed out before Hawkmoth could detect it. “When he finally opened it, he apologized profusely and expected me to just…forget it ever happened.” She pressed her gloved hands into her eye sockets with a wet – if not sardonic – chuckle, “Needless to say, it didn’t work out.”
Ladybug was quickly engulfed in a comforting hug as she concentrated on taking a few breaths to get herself back under control. “I’m sorry, Bug. That was completely uncalled for and I, for one, am ashamed that wanker – that bloody tosser of a git – is among those of my gender. That absolute poxy excuse of a man is such a blighter and doesn’t deserve you. If you hadn’t called things off, I would have told that gormless prat to sod off myself,” he murmured fiercely beside her ear, relieved when he felt the silent chuckles growing stronger with each British insult he could dream up. He knew she was always fond of the way his English relations spoke and used it to his full advantage whenever she needed a mood lift.
When the sniffles had stopped and her hands dropped from her face, Chat released her and resumed his seat. “Thank you, you always know just what to say…” came her murmured reply.
“Hardly, I simply stated the facts. It is a truth universally acknowledged that any idiot willing to debase himself to insulting a Lady does not deserve her affections."
“Still, thanks. And I’m sorry for ruining the mood. We were sharing silly stories – and we were having so much fun – and…and I had to go and muck it up!”
“You didn’t ruin anything, Bug. Besides, you’re not the only one with a story like that,” he sighed. “My cousin set me up with a young model that seemed a good fit at one time. We had similar tastes in books and films, even shared a few of the same pet peeves and bonded over classical music. However, she traveled a lot for work, and we would meet when she was in Paris, not as if I’m jet-setting for obvious reasons. Left plenty of room for this hero business, too. It wasn’t love but it could have grown to be. For all intents and purposes, we worked.”
Ladybug furrowed her brow at him, “Then what was the issue?”
“About two months into our ‘relationship’, I discovered she was dating – and subsequently sleeping with – fourteen other people,” came his deadpan reply.
Her mouth dropped open in shock, “No!”
“Oh yes. Found it by accident on her calendar while planning a surprise for her birthday. We were all noted on her schedule with every intimate detail – down to the location and even sexual position used – going back months in her Planner. And those were only the ones I knew about! Apparently, she had heard from some American television show that it wasn’t cheating if it ‘wasn’t the same area code’ or something equally as absurd. She felt justified as each of us was in a different part of Europe.”
“Wow…” The heroine was speechless.
“Obviously, I did not agree with said sentiment and cut my association with her.”
“That’s…gods, that’s awful, Chat. I’m so sorry.” She rested a hand on his forearm, her blue eyes glowing with sadness.
He patted her hand gently, “Don’t be. It was years ago. I heard that she lost a major modeling contract after she tried to hook up with my cousin and has since found a job working in a diner over in Nice.”
“Well, Mademoiselle Serialist Cheater sounds like a perfect match for Mister Elevator.” She shook her head disgustingly as Chat raised a brow. “He introduced himself to me in the library and asked me out, I turned him down. I was supposed to hang out with your cousin a few days later and – you know how Adrien is, far too friendly with strangers than he should be – stumbled upon the two of them chatting at our meeting spot. Mister Elevator was giving him the advice to ‘give a girl a flower, it’s a surefire way to win them over!’”
“Well, flowers are a traditional gift when dating…” he murmured.
“Yeah…part of his advice was a story about giving a girl a flower and receiving a blowjob in the elevator for it. Thus his name.” The heroine rolled her eyes as her tone turned flippant, the memory nothing more than a short ridiculously humorous interaction that still made her snort to this day.
The blond choked mid-chew on a bit of brie and began to cough roughly, “Forgive me, what the fuck?!”
Ladybug simply nodded sagely and looked over the cheese platter for her next nibble but found mostly crumbs left. “I know. I was pretty floored when he told me about it. Mister Elevator saw me with your cousin and encouraged him to ‘get lucky’ with me. Like a man and a woman couldn’t be just friends, they must be sleeping together too! And that I would be so easy to ‘put out’ simply by being given a flower? Just ludicr—”
“He said what?” His words were an angry growl, one that seemed to reverberate the very air across the empty rooftop with its ferocity, which surprised a squeak from the heroine. Chat’s eyes looked absolutely feral, his claws attempting to dig into the limestone beneath them as if imagining them sinking into the object of his ire, his tail lashing wildly behind him.
“Chat! It’s fine! You know your cousin would never do something like that—!” She attempted to calm him, her eyes jumping about the horizon for possible butterflies with increasing concern and internal panic.
“That’s hardly the issue! Adrien was raised to meet very strict standards of behavior but, Bug, to insinuate that you—! He could have been—” Chat jumped from sentence to sentence in his agitation, unable to completely vocalize a single disgusting thought, as the desire to find this lout and defend her honor fed his outrage further.
“Woah, woah! I’m fine!” Ladybug held up both hands between them, approaching slowly before laying a reassuring hand on the claws currently scraping the top of the monument so as not to agitate him further. “It’s not right what he said but at least he heavily implied receiving consent. I had rejected him, he saw us together, he assumed we were dating… And I never even saw him again after that!”
As the stiff tension around his shoulders began to release, Ladybug wrapped her arms around her partner’s neck and she whispered reassuringly into his neck, “I promise, Grimalkin, I am okay. No need to cataclysm some civilian’s face off for me.”
Claws released their stranglehold on the rooftop and wrapped around her body, pulling her closer until they were settled hip to hip. She listened to his deep breaths as he calmed once again. When his voice returned, it was a hushed rumble rather than the ferocious growl it had been, “Are you sure I can’t, Bug?”
“Yes, I’m sure. It wouldn’t help anyone right now,” she chuckled against his side.
“It would make me feel better…” he muttered under his breath.
“If I ever need someone’s face to be melted off, I will come straight to you.”
“Hmm, see that you do,” Chat rested his cheek against her hair, his toxic green eyes taking in the lights of Paris once again. They lapsed into a companionable silence now that their emotions had calmed and take out containers were empty. The beautiful evening breeze tugged at their hair; a few stars twinkled through the light pollution high in the sky above their heads. It was a peaceful moment that reminded them that they always had each other to fall back on.
Ladybug’s snort broke the silence that had wrapped around them, drawing the black cat’s attention once again. “Besides, you’d be proud of how I handled a guy earlier…I channeled my inner Felix.”
The edge of his mask rose curiously, although his tone sounded as if torn between being flattered and insulted, “Oh? How so?”
“This man that I’ve been working on a commission for has taken a liking to me,” she began with a laugh, one hand immediately rested on his thigh as soon as she felt his body tense beside her. “He decided to ‘shoot his shot’ this morning by using the most bizarre pick-up line I’ve ever heard!”
Chat tried to relax, “Was it something as corny as my cousin would use? Something like…besides sexy, what do you do for a living? Or perhaps… If you were a fruit, you’d be a fine-apple?”
The heroine’s face flushed even as she broke into loud howls of laughter, “Gods, no! It was worse!”
“Worse? I’m not sure that’s possible.”
Wiping a tear from her eye, Ladybug’s laughter died down to gentle chuckles. “No, he dropped his voice down as deep as it could go – I assume in an effort to sound rough and sexy – and asked me: ‘if I was a bear, what would I do to you?’”
Her partner leaned back enough to stare down at her, momentarily speechless over the reality of such a person existing and using such a horrid line. “…And how did you channel your ‘inner Felix’, may I ask?”
The spotted woman sat up straighter, schooling her features with an air of refined calm as she stared down her nose haughtily. “I gave no outward reaction, just simply stated – completely deadpan – that, if he were a bear, he would likely maul me. Then I proceeded to give him a factual information dump about which organs would likely to be ripped from my body first before I would lose consciousness from blood loss.”
There was a beat of silence before both dissolved into uproarious laughter.
“Bug, I’m so proud of you!” Chat enfolded his companion in his embrace, sharing in her mirth. “But, for my sanity, please never tell my cousin that line…”
She scoffed, “I can make no prom—"
Suddenly an explosion lit up the Parisian night sky, followed closely by the familiar akuma alert tone echoing through the streets below, interrupting their conversation. Ladybug groaned, “Can’t he give us one more night off?”
“No rest for the wicked, I’m afraid.” The black suited hero rose to his feet, brushing off any bits of dust that may have clung to his hex-leather suit before offering her a hand up. “Aren’t you always looking on the bright side? At least we finished dinner twice this week.”
“I suppose you’re right…” The heroine gladly accepted the hand and unraveled her yo-yo while Chat wrangled their garbage back into the bag. “Want me to take that to the nearest garbage can while you go scope things out?”
He hummed an affirmative as he settled it into her offered hand, “Probably for the best. You’re not exactly the picture of stealth, Bug.” Chat smirked at her offended scoff, jumping off the Arc de Triomphe before she could hurtle the bag at his head.
Ladybug’s angry shout echoed in the air behind him, “Must I remind you that I DON’T HAVE ANY SAY IN MY SUIT DESIGN?” He didn’t need to have super hearing to know his partner was grumbling.
Chat allowed himself a rare smile as he vaulted toward the latest akuma. ‘Being a hero can be a lonely existence but it’s a little easier together.’
~~~~~~~
Author's Note: Yes, I know...not my usual romance but I enjoyed ggomo's story so much that I felt inspired. Most of these horrible dates are based on real life experiences... Details changed to protect the guilty. What's your worst dating story?
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