Sky Full of Stars
Pairing: Fan Chengcheng x Reader
Requested by: None, I’m just a sucker for this boy
Genre: Fluff (? I think?) + a little Angst
Word Count: 1,646
A/N: I’ve been thinking of this for the longest time– like for about two weeks. I’m a shameless lover of Chengcheng’s beauty spots and how they are literally everywhere and I honestly want to fight him because he hides ALL T H I R T E E N of them. And I’m sure he hides more but can’t see inside his clothes so I can’t tell. Which is why we have this fic even though ideally I should work on the requests I’ve received (and I am, I swear I’ll post those after 1st May because my exams end that day yay)
Also idk if these fit but Trigger Warnings for hinted body and self esteem issues.
Chengcheng hated his moles. He hated how they were almost all over his face and his neck– like specks of paint on a plain T-shirt. He hated it. Ever since he was a child, he couldn’t help but compare his mole studded skin to his older sister’s almost clear skin.
It got worse once he started as a trainee under Yuehua Entertainment and met other trainees. Everyone was so beautiful to him, like sunshine from sheer curtains and like the mornings after it had rained and sunrises. Beautiful in ways, he couldn’t ever see himself fitting into despite what his mother and sister constantly told him.
He couldn’t see himself as beautiful. Especially not with all those moles. So he hid them every time he had to train; very few people apart from his mother and sister knew he even had more than the moles on the base of his neck. Justin knew because they were roommates. Zhengting had found out when he walked in on Chengcheng going through the mechanisms of covering them. Wenjun, Zeren, Quanzhe and Xinchun had found out on a particularly hot day when he’d decided it was too hot for concealer and for a shirt while they were practicing.
You knew because he’d told you. You’d been the only person he’d voluntarily told about the moles. When you’d seen them for the first time, you’d touched each of them gently with your fingers as if connecting lines and he’d looked at you confused and afraid; waiting for you to confirm his worst feelings and tell him you thought they were ugly.
“They’re not moles, Fu Xixi,” you’d said instead, “they’re beauty marks. They just prove how beautiful you are because you have so many.”
While he didn’t fully truly believe that, he knew he hadn’t loved anyone– even you– as much as he loved you at that moment. He doubted if he would ever love someone as much as he loved you then.
“Thank you,” he’d responded, voice so low you wouldn’t have heard him if you had been even a breath farther. “Thank you for loving me.”
You’d smiled then, your heart aching because you could feel how much he was afraid even until this moment. You didn’t have words for him; you’d simply stood on your tiptoes and kissed his jaw right where his beauty mark was. “Thank you for letting me love you,” you whispered into his ear.
***
One of your favourite things to do was to trace your fingers along Chengcheng’s skin, connecting all the beauty marks that studded his skin, creating invisible, unnamed constellations on his skin. Sometimes, on mornings when you woke up before him– which was rare because he had practice– you’d lie quietly next to him doing nothing but trailing your finger across his skin as he slept.
You had been mildly surprised to find out that the beauty marks didn’t stop at the base of his neck where the twin marks were the most prominent. His entire body was full of them and you loved it– loved how almost every inch of his skin was covered with them almost as much as he seemed to hate them in spite of how many times you’d told him.
“They’re not beautiful,” he’d say on some of his worst days. “I’m not beautiful. You’re probably the only person who thinks I’m beautiful without all this makeup. I’d probably be the ugliest trainee on Idol Producer if the fans found out– that’s how ugly I am.”
You’d have to wait for the worst of storm to pass before you could move closer and hold him close to you while he let out all the pent up frustration and self-hatred. It would seem worse every time he came back home to his family when he got breaks in between the shooting for Idol Producer. You kept up with the show and you could see how he hid even the ones on the base of his neck– making it a point to wear only high-necked shirts and turtlenecks whenever he could.
So you couldn’t help but be relieved once he had returned home– regardless of how short his time back home was. You’d stay over at his house for as long as he stayed; the Fan household was always glad to have you staying with them– especially his mother who often joked that you were the only one who could convince him about something when he was going through one of his bad days.
You’d spend the nights in Chengcheng’s room, most of the time neither of you did anything. He’d be too tired to even talk on the nights he came back from the shootings– he’d fall asleep the minute he had gotten comfortable enough. Sometimes, you’d lie next to him and fill him on what he’d missed while he was gone while he slowly but surely, fell asleep. You couldn’t help but smile whenever you noticed how he fell asleep– an arm almost always around you, his bare chest against your shoulder, no makeup hiding his marks. Occasionally, when his face was close enough, you’d kiss that one small beauty mark near his left eye which especially didn’t get to make even accidental appearances when he was on camera– except for that one time it had and had gone virtually unnoticed by everyone.
It would always be too easy to fall asleep when he was sleeping peacefully next to you. Almost too easy especially when you wanted only to stay awake a little longer and run your fingers on his skin, feeling the almost imperceptible bumps the beauty marks created, making them easy to find even in the darkness of the room. But you’d never manage more than once– if at all– before you fell asleep to the comfort of how close he was and to how gentle and rhythmic his breathing was.
***
It was one of those nights when neither of you could fall asleep that found your fingers touching Chengcheng’s skin, counting all the beauty marks he had while he closed his eyes distracting himself from everything but the sound of your voice as you whispered all the counting.
It was moments until he finally spoke. “Y/N.”
“Hmm?” you whispered, your fingers on his jaw, tracing along the skin to the two beauty marks on his ear to the many on the side of his neck which was exposed as he faced you in the dark and tracing back to the on single one on the side of his jaw.
He raised his hand to cup yours, stopping the rhythmic movement of your fingers. “Why do you even love me?” he asked and the quiver in his voice wasn’t something you could miss especially at the closeness– it was almost tangible in the darkness of the room.
So tangible you have to get up a little so to look at him in the eye. “What?”
He looks up at you and you can tell he’s having one of those nights where he questions everything he’s ever done and everything that anyone’s ever said to him. “What sort of question is that, Fan Chengcheng?” you ask him quietly. “Is everything okay?”
And he shakes his head but he answers yes. “It’s just,” he sighs as you lay down next to him again, hand on his cheeks cupping his face, “you knew all of us– like all of us who’re on the show– but when I asked you out you agreed.”
“Because I liked you.”
“Why would you?” he asks. “I’m not Zhengting or Xinchun or Wenjun or–”
“You’re not,” you agree. “You’re not the same as them, you’re not like them.”
He looks at you confused. “Then why? If you agree, then you know how amazing they are– they’re like the sun and then there’s me. How can you like me?”
“Because you’re like stars, Chengcheng,” you tell him. “You aren’t the sun. You’re too mellowed for that– you don’t shine to daze everyone. You’re not beautiful like them.”
He’s quiet for a long time before you speak again. “You’re beautiful in your own way, Chengcheng– like how the night sky is beautiful. You’re the night sky and I love you.” “I’m… the night sky?”
You nod and run your fingers along his skin, connecting each of his beauty marks with invisible lines without looking away from his face. It’s moments until your fingers reach his face to the mole under his left eye and his gaze flickers from your face to the finger touching that mark before he looks at you again, his eyes questioning.
“Everytime I see you, I have to stop to remind myself to breathe because when I look at you– with all the beauty marks that you hide away all the time–it’s like looking at a sky filled with galaxies and constellations. Except I can touch these stars. I can hold the galaxies close and trace the constellations along their paths. I can kiss these stars.”
You move closer and kiss the beauty mark under his eye and you can feel his eyelashes flutter shut against your skin. “And that’s why, to me, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met or will ever meet.”
You move away only for him to move closer and bury his face in the crook of your neck and plant kisses. “I love you so much, Y/N,” he whispers over and over between kisses. “I love you.” You wrap your arms around him and bury your fingers in his hair, holding him against you. “I love you too,” you tell him.
It’s not long until he falls asleep, face still buried in your neck, holding you in a hug. You smile once you can hear his breathing turn rhythmic. You close your eyes listening for a while until sleep overcomes you as well.
Link to part 2 (of sorts)