Chapter Text
one year post-Olympics
The ice in Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s drink clinked as she set it down on the metal patio table.
Before she could sit down next to him, Adrien Agreste pulled her into his lap and kissed her cheek.
“I missed you,” he said.
“I was gone for five minutes.”
He shrugged. “Still long enough for me to start missing you.”
It was enough to make her grin, which made him smile, too. She always liked how he looked when they were in Italy: relaxed, tanned, and rested. Retirement suited him.
It suited both of them, really.
After years of regimented routine, being able to relax was still a bit of a marvel. Their last few days had been spent wandering the cobblestoned streets, hand-in-hand.
Here, they could be whoever they want to be.
Not Olympians, not France’s sweethearts (a name they still couldn’t shake), not even athletes. Or former athletes; even a year later, it felt odd to call herself that.
Here, in their sunglasses and sandals, they weren’t Olympic medalists: they were just Marinette and Adrien, two tourists visiting the seaside town, spending lazy afternoons sunbathing on the beach.
Now they sat, wrapped in bathrobes on the balcony, watching the sunset on the horizon, cheeks pressed together. Her sun-bronzed fiancé’s hand rested on Marinette’s bare upper thigh.
Fiancé. Much like referring to herself as a former-athlete, it still felt like such a new word, even though they’d been engaged for almost a year now. As if to emphasize the word, the sparkling diamond on Marinette’s ring finger glittered in the waning sunlight.
They came back to Italy to “scout honeymoon locations” but really, it was one of the many meaningless anniversary vacations they’d now grown accustomed to taking.
The past year had brought many adjustments — new home, new careers, new lifestyle — but their love for each other never had changed. Each day was just as blissful as the last.
“You seem very deep in thought for someone who’s on vacation,” he murmured against her ear. “Penny for your thoughts?”
“I’ve been thinking—”
“Yes, I can tell.”
She swatted at him and he laughed, grabbing her around the waist to hold her tighter to him. His body was deliciously warm against her, like he’d internalized the sunshine they’d spent the day in.
“Stop it or I won’t tell you!”
“No!” He clutched her tighter. “Please tell me.”
For a moment, she just sat there. And then she sighed.
“I miss competing.”
Underneath her, Adrien stiffened. Maybe he didn’t mean to, but she felt it. His voice was a little too level when he said, “Do you?”
She tilted her head to look at him.
His green gaze was incredibly guarded, like he was waiting to see what she’d say next before he showed her his true emotions.
“Don’t you?”
Hesitantly, Adrien said, “Sometimes.”
Though they’d both had their challenges, the road that got him to this point was far rockier and hazard-strewn than her own.
And as much as he loved it, skating wasn’t something he wanted to go return to.
They’d discussed performing in ice shows, but Adrien’s doctors recommended against it. His body couldn’t take any more high-level skating; his pain levels were typically low these days, but any fall could put him at risk of needing invasive surgery. She wouldn’t ask him to take that chance, even though she knew that he would say yes.
“Competing in ice dance?” Adrien asked.
“No.”
“No?” His brow furrowed as he looked her face over.
“I’ll never have another partner besides you. I want us to partner up… in a different way.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I’m listening.”
“I’d like to try singles skating again, and I want you to be my coach.”
When Adrien imagined what it would be like to propose to Marinette, he really thought Marinette would hesitate when he asked. That she would take her time and really drink in the moment. To stand there stunned with her hands pressed over her mouth.
She did none of that.
Just blurted out yes! the second he knelt down, before he had even opened his mouth.
Which is exactly what Adrien just did to Marinette.
Just blurted out yes as soon as she proposed that he be her coach.
She stared at him. (The same thing he’d done to her.)
“You… you don’t even want to take a second to think about it?”
He didn’t need time to think about it. No time at all. He’d never been so sure of a decision, beyond that of proposing to her.
He'd never dreamed that she'd ask him for this. He hadn't even realized she'd been considering a return to competitive ice. She'd seemed satisfied enough to help him coach and work on her costume business -- which had exploded since she'd begun working full-time on it.
Evidently, that wasn't the case.
“I’ll do it.”
A slow smile grew on Marinette's face. “It’s going to be a lot, you know. Coaching, competing, planning a wedding…”
“If anyone is up for the challenge,” Adrien said. “It’s us.”
“You’re sure?”
When they got home, there would be a lot to figure out. Music. Choreography. Costumes. Competition.
They'd just gotten used to not having a routine. It was going to be a difficult transition back to the regimented lifestyle they used to have.
But she was smiling so widely. She looked so happy.
There was a growing pit of nerves in Adrien’s stomach, but he said, “Let’s do it.”
Arms wrapped around his neck, Marinette laughed, giddy. “We’re doing this. We’re really doing this.”
They were going back to competitive ice.