Starbursts (Sunspot Fortnite X Reader)

Sharing Warmth

Stories swapped, and playful banter the night grows dark. The cold, hard floor of living room flooring and blankets have been traded for your plush bed. Legs kicking back and forth as Sunspot still partakes in the life of a floor dweller. Ever slightly upgrading to a futon and new covers.

Music plays in the background; your hushed giggles accompanying. Colors from the small speaker on your dresser shuffling to waves of song; Sunspot’s own brightness rising and falling to his own emotion.

In tangent, so is the glow under his shirt.

Your eyes follow the bright trail as he, again, loses strength in his hands to continue speaking. His silent laughter getting the best of him.

“It keeps glowing,” you comment.

Wiping a tear from his eye, Sunspot looks down at his chest. The glow is prevelant under the white garment. He nods, replying, “It feels a little different from before.”

“Can I see?” As he presents the necklace, your hand reaches out. Pausing for a moment, a finger twitches when the warmth brushes against your skin. It wasn’t as bright as you had last seen it, nor has it brought any sudden reactions from Sunspot.

“What changed?” You ask, carefully holding the medallion between your fingers. It’s soft glow reflecting off your skin, the warmth pleasant.

“What do you mean?”

“Last time it looked like it was stinging you,” looking at him from where you lay, you continue. “It doesn’t look as bright as before. Is that bad?”

He looks up as he thinks about your question. “I don’t think it’s bad, better than it branding my skin.”

“It reflects emotions, though, right?” His fingertips grow cold, “Or something about…us?”

The way you look at him is difficult for him to decipher. Curiosity and hope, yet concern…worry. Wiping a hand on his pants, he falters in forming words.

“Yes, and no,” He manges to form. Shaking his wrists, his hands trail the chain of the medallion, bringing it over his head. Your hold on the golden emblem retreating for the item that now rests on your person. The chain warms the back of your neck with Sunspot’s presence, leaving kisses of warmth in its wake. Hands lifting off, a cold settles where his hands trailed.

The medallion glows a tad brighter once rested.

“Ares explained some things but it’s difficult to understand,” His smile cocks to the side as he offers a gentle shrug. 

Looking down at his hands instead of his features, the prickling of your skin becomes more prevelant. Unsure of what you felt amongst the static of nerves clamoring up your arms.

As thoughts sort themselves, your attention focuses on the gloves Sunpot wears. The threading and texture. How his hands still to settle on his lap.

Fingers picking at his nail, that was a first that you’ve seen of it.

“It can be good though,” He finishes.

Playing  with its chain in your hands, the mystery in which Gods play remains illusive.

“Are you going to join the competition?” Changing the subject your gaze from the medallion goes back to Sunspot.
“I’m not sure, I don’t really play for stats.” He lens back on his hands, “What about you?”

“I’m nowhere near being as good as the pros. You definately should.”

“I don’t exactly have a die-hard group that know each other through life and death,” He comments.

“Do the solo run then,”

“That’s no fun, there’s no fun in solo!”

“Of course there is! you can pull off some sick moves or something,” you roll on your back, “hit someone with your car.”

“That’s a fantastic idea, just for that I’ll sign up,”
“Really?!” You shoot up in excitement.

“No…maybe” A pause in his statement makes you wait, “I really think you could do it though, even if you don’t win.”

Sitting up properly the thought lingers, the sound of your speaker powering down bringing you back. “No…not yet at least.” you shuffle to face him, “Maybe next year.”

Sunspot nods, “I’ll be beating you next year then,”

“Oh shut up,” rolling your eyes a pillow hits his face for the uptenth time that night. Picking up your phone as he tosses the pillow back the clocl is reading rather late. With one hand you begin to take the medallion off.

Feeling a warmth spread across your hand, your eyes meet with sunspots. His light pressure encouraging to keep the necklace on.

“Keep it for a while,” the lingering of his hand on yours burns something in your chest. A soft flame that now reflects in the medallion against your chest.

( Word Count 773 )