red, white, and you
chris sturniolo x reader | fluff, friends to lovers
The sun was already brutal by noon.
You'd been on the water for maybe two hours, and your shoulders were starting to feel it; that slow, creeping warmth that would turn into regret by tomorrow morning. You should've reapplied. God... you knew you should've reapplied.
"You're burning," Chris said, appearing beside you out of nowhere the way he always did. Like he materialized.
"I'm not burning."
"Your nose is literally red."
"It's the sun."
"That's what burning is."
You squinted at him. He was already grinning, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, looking annoyingly unbothered by the heat. You held out your hand without another word. He passed you the sunscreen without being asked.
That was the thing about Chris. He just knew. Where you were. What you needed. It used to feel normal. Lately, it felt like something else entirely, and you hadn't quite figured out what to do with that yet.
The yacht wasn't huge, but it was enough. Nick had claimed a spot at the front with his phone and a playlist nobody else got a vote on. Matt was somewhere below deck, raiding the snack situation. Chris had been orbiting you all afternoon in that low-key, easy way of his, close enough to talk, never quite far enough away.
"This is the best fourth I've ever had," Nick announced, not looking up.
"You say that every year," Chris called back.
"And I'm right every year."
Matt resurfaced with an armful of stuff: chips, sparkling water, something wrapped in foil that looked questionable. He dropped everything on the little table near the stern and started distributing like he was running a charity operation.
"We eating or not?"
You laughed. You couldn't help it. Chris bumped your shoulder lightly.
The afternoon bled into early evening the way summer days do, slow and golden and all at once. The light changed; the air cooled. Someone had strung up little lights along the railing, and you weren't sure when that happened, but it looked good.
Nick fell asleep with his hat over his face. Matt had his headphones in, legs dangling off the side, completely unbothered.
Chris found you at the bow. You were sitting with your back against the railing, knees pulled up, watching the horizon go pink. He dropped down beside you without asking if the spot was taken. You shifted to give him room anyway.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey."
Neither of you said anything for a minute. You were used to that with him; the quiet that didn't need filling. The kind you could actually breathe in.
"Thanks for coming," he said eventually.
You looked at him. "You literally told me I had to."
"I asked nicely."
"You sent a voice memo at eleven at night."
"That's me asking nicely."
You smiled despite yourself. He was watching you when you did it, and something about the way he looked, open, soft around the edges in a way he wasn't always, made your chest do something inconvenient.
"I'm glad I'm here," you said quietly.
He nodded slowly. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
The first firework went off somewhere in the distance before either of you could say anything else. Just one, a test, maybe. warning shot. It bloomed pink and white over the water and disappeared.
"Here we go," Chris murmured.
They started properly after that. Blues and golds and reds reflecting off the surface in long, shivering streaks. You could feel the low boom of the bigger ones in your sternum. Nick woke up. Matt pulled a headphone out. But somehow, inexplicably, you were only really aware of Chris. The inch of space between your arms, the way he'd tilted toward you incrementally without seeming to notice.
"Can I tell you something?" he said, still looking at the sky.
"Yeah."
He was quiet for a second. A big gold burst lit up his face and then faded.
"I've been trying to figure out how to say this for like three months."
Your heart did something stupid. "Okay."
"I don't want to make it weird."
"Chris."
"I just—" He finally looked at you. Full on, eyes steady in a way that made it hard to look away. "I think about you a lot. Like, a lot a lot. And I don't think that's a friend thing anymore."
The fireworks kept going. Somewhere behind you Matt said something to Nick. Neither of you heard it.
"It's not," you said. "For me either."
The smile that broke across his face was slow and a little disbelieving and completely him. He laughed quietly, under his breath, like he didn't know what to do with the relief.
"Yeah?"
"You already asked me that."
"I know, I just—" He shook his head. "Okay."
He leaned in, and you met him halfway. It was soft, brief, and just enough to seal true feelings.
When you pulled back, the sky was still going, all color and noise and light, and Chris was looking at you like the fireworks were the least interesting thing in view.
Behind you, Matt's voice: "finally."
Nick, immediately: "I'm not saying anything."
"You just said something—"
"I said I'm not saying anything—"
Chris dropped his head and laughed, and you laughed too, and it felt easy. It felt like something that had always been coming, just waiting for the right night to arrive.
immaqulate's notes ✎ᝰ.ᐟ.. happy 4th to those who celebrate! fuck trump and fuck ice! i plan to write more fics and get through the requests sitting in my inbox hehe love you all so much <33
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