Under the Stars

Pairing: Choi San x reader

Summary: The stars decide to spell out your fate with the cute boy who took you stargazing rather clearly, for once.

Word Count: 1.6k

Tags: summer camp au, fluff to end all fluff, also idiocy

You peer up at the universe sprinkled overhead, gnawing your lower lip. “I’m not sure I see it.”

The grass of left outfield shifts beneath the blanket as San scoots a little closer to you. Despite the comfortably warm night, the feeling of his body heat mere inches from your side sends prickles across your skin.

“Okay, look,” San says, lifting his arm and pointing to a cluster of stars. “Starts right there, beneath that really bright one, and it goes down left, and then trails around that way, see?”

You force your gaze away from the contour of his arm and attempt to follow as he traces an outline in the heavens. “And you said it’s…”

“A jellyfish,” he says, and you can hear him grinning. “That spot I just traced is the bell, and then the tentacles—”

“—are just there,” you realize, suddenly seeing the constellation. You snort.

“Nice, right?” San snickers. “I actually felt clever making that one. Okay, your turn.”

“Oh, god,” you mutter, smiling and gazing all across the sky. “Okay, um…”

This is exactly what you’d expected when San asked if you wanted to sneak out to the campground’s baseball field and look at stars. Several other young camp staff you’d been sitting with watched you accept his offer with jealousy, and you knew they were picturing a far more romantic, swoonworthy scene. Something it seemed most of the young camp staff would kill for with San—at least, something they’d kill for now.

Choi San has been your camp bestie since the day you met as kids, when you accidentally spilled green Kool-Aid all over him and he retaliated on purpose with his purple Kool-Aid. He wasn’t one of the cooler kids at camp over the years—too dorky, the other kids said. But that worked out perfectly for you, because you were a dork, too.

It was shocking when he turned up one summer a few years ago when you were counselors and he was…cute. Against your better judgment, it awakened something in you—and, apparently, several other counselors, who were suddenly interested in hanging around him. You tried not to let it boost your ego when he barely noticed them, preferring to stick around you, instead. He was still just as dorky, like nothing had changed, and you wanted to keep it that way, so for the sake of your friendship you fought down any feelings that awakened.

Except they like to re-awaken all the time, as you both continue to grow up and he only gets cuter. A constant battle. You’re running out of room to bury your feelings at this point.

“Aaah, wait—um, uh, um…” you sputter, laughing as San begins humming the Jeopardy theme.

You chance a glance over at him, only to look away again sharply when you see him grinning ear-to-ear at you. Your entire face comes to a boil. Panicked, you fling your arm up and point. “There, take a guess.”

You begin scrutinizing that spot desperately for a form that makes sense as San groans. “No fair, that’s where I was going to pick next.”

“Pff, yeah, what were you gonna pick, a….coiled-up snake?” You retort, tossing the snake idea out the window.

“…Noooo,” he says, then pauses. “Okay, kind of. It was going to be one of those fuzzy worm things, so that doesn’t technically count.”

You snort. “Keep dreaming.”

“What’s yours, then, huh, if you’re so clever?”

“You mean you can’t see it?” You ask, faking offense, wracking your brains for ideas.

“Methinks thou doth protest too much,” San says, and you can hear him smirking.

You huff. “Fine, I’ll tell you, spoilsport. It’s one of those, you know…”

You can definitely hear him grinning now. “You know…?”

At last, inspiration strikes. “It’s an ammonite.”

A moment’s pause, and then San asks, “an ammonite?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know what an ammonite is,” you say, injecting mock horror into your voice. “I remember your dinosaur phase from fourth grade summer too well for that.”

There’s a moment of silence as San scrutinizes the sky.

You smirk the longer he doesn’t reply. “So, you know. An ammonite. Duh.”

“That…” He says, staring at the place you’d pointed out, “…is genius…”

You grin.

“….ly stupid.”

“Hey!” You turn and smack his arm, laughing. “You were going to say it was a fuzzy worm!”

You pointedly ignore how cute his dimples are, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. “At least mine wasn’t a fossil.”

“You didn’t make any rules except ‘it can’t be boring like a real constellation’!”

“I’m changing the rules now, no fossils.”

You scrunch your face up into an indignant, scowling pout. “Starting now. Mine counts.”

San rolls his eyes, but a grin tugs at his lips. “So needy. Fine, my turn.”

“And you can’t start from where I just made one,” you remind him.

“Yah, who’s in charge here, anyway?” San complains.

You scoff. “Who said anything about someone being in charge? Besides, you’ve got loads of other stars to work with.”

“But I wanted to work with those stars.”

“Bo-ring.”

“Ah come on, they’re all fake constellations anyw—whoa!”

You both jolt, eyes wide, as the brightest shooting star you’ve ever seen hurtles through the sky above. It’s huge, the tail burning fire from one horizon to the other in a brilliant slash.

As quickly as it comes, it fades, but the spell it casts lingers over you both. Both of you fall quiet, staring up into the stars. Everything comes into focus that you hadn’t been aware of before—the soft chirp of crickets from the nearby woods, the barely-there breeze stirring across your legs, the earthy smell of the baseball diamond. How close Choi San is lying next to you, on this blanket, the two of you in a world all your own.

“That was…amazing,” San breathes.

Your throat is dry. All you can do is nod.

“Did you see that?”

“Yeah.”

“It was huge,” he says, shifting a little on the blanket. “I’ve…I feel like I need to make a wish. Should I make a wish?”

You wish your feelings could just go away. “Nah, not on that one. You kidding? It was way too big for just a wish. That was like…a sign, or something.”

San sounds thoughtful. “A sign of what?”

“Like, anything.” Lying here next to him feels more and more dangerous by the second. You sit up, still staring at the sky. “That’s a sign for anything. Like a big thumbs-up, you know? The universe saying, ‘time to go for it’.”

“Go for what?”

“Whatever’s right in front of you, man,” you say, just rambling at this point. “Got a dream school you’re shooting for? Send in the application. Up for that promotion? Assert yourself. Someone you want to see? Gotta shoot your shot. Life’s too short and shooting stars know about it. Like, you saw that one, it was huge and bright and beautiful and it just fizzled…out…”

You stop talking, mind going blank, when you feel San take your hand, twining your fingers together.

You look down at your hands. He really is holding yours; you aren’t just imagining it. His thumb brushes over the back of yours gently, once, twice, and your entire being feels like a live wire.

He clears his throat in the silence that follows. “I, um, then I guess this is just…me, shooting my shot, then.”

Your gaze trails from his hand up his arm, over his shoulder and neck, settling on his face. He’s staring resolutely up at the sky, like the stars have just started tap-dancing. “I mean, you know, if that’s…cool? Maybe? Since you said the star was a sign and not for wishing…maybe this was a bad idea—”

“You’re shooting your shot with me?”

“Not because I don’t like being friends or anything!” San says quickly. “Honestly I haven’t said anything for a while because I didn’t want you to…I guess I was just worried that…and like, we can totally just be friends, that’s super cool, we can just forget this happened at all—”

“Stop talking.”

He falls silent, and you take the moment to calm the veritable tornado of thoughts and feelings whipping through your head at breakneck speeds.

“I…” You trail off. Where are you even supposed to start? “I’m not…I mean, I like being your friend, too, don’t get me wrong, but like…”

You squeeze his hand. “This is cool.”

Slowly, San sits up next to you. “…It is?”

“Way better than cool,” you blurt, feeling your face start to burn again. “I’m…god, San, I’ve liked you a stupidly long time and I didn’t want to blow it and you’re telling me you’re shooting your shot because of a shooting star?”

“Hey, that thing had to be a comet or something,” San said, a slow smile growing over his face. “Like fate. Or an omen.”

“I was talking out of my ass about that earlier,” you tell him, pulse sputtering frantically at the way he’s looking at you.

“No, I think that was the first non-stupid thing you said all night,” San says decidedly. He lifts your joined hands briefly and presses a kiss to the back of yours before letting them drop to his lap.

Your head feels like it’s spinning. “The ammonite wasn’t stupid.”

“It was stupid,” he says, grinning at you.

You huff, scowl-pouting again. “You’re so mean.”

“I think you like it, though,” he says, squeezing your hand and looking back up at the sky. “Just a little.”

Your face feels like it’s in flames. “…Maybe. A very little bit.”

You both spend the next few minutes smiling rather stupidly at the stars.