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embracehappy · 6 years

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Falling. | Summercamp!Shawn AU

a/n: In honor of my last night here at summer camp, AND hitting my 1st big follower milestone: I present, a summercamp!Shawn AU!!! I’ve been a camp counselor for a creative writing camp all week long and this has been my “big project” I’ve been working on. It’s 5k and honestly was a beast to write. I hope y’all like it because I’m really proud of it. (also it’s 3am on my last night here, so if there’s some blatant gammar/spelling issues, I’m sorry I did my best) ALSO: I tried out a new style so that was exciting.

word count: 5,220

warnings: cursing!!

The italics are flashbacks and ‘thoughts’.

You lock eyes form across the field. He’s playing some stupid game with his campers. The boy campers never followed the rules, so their games always ended up being a little bit crazy.

“That’s a stupid idea.” You said to him.

His face fell slightly, but then ignited again with arrogance.

“Says you! I bet my campers’ll love it” He snipped back to you.

“OKAYYYYY, let’s just calm down for a minute, counselors. I’m sure all the campers will enjoy whatever introductory games you have planned.” Your boss said to you and him.

He shot you a look that told you, if you weren’t sitting in a pre-camp meeting right now, he would have stuck his tongue out at you, like a child.

You roll your eyes and look away. Scoffing at the memory of his stupid game. You didn’t even know who he was then. All you knew was that you didn’t like him.

When you had first arrived at camp, you overheard him making fun of the girls’ camp for being too “frilly”.

“Fuck him” you whisper to yourself.

“Dude. The girls camp is lame” You heard a voice say. It sounded like one of the boys’ counselor.

“Oh come on, they’re not that bad” You had heard another voice say.

“No dude! They’re SO… ugh…frilly!” The original voice said, sounding almost disgusted.

You stopped dead in your tracks. You were about to round the corner to go tell those exact guys that your boss needed them. But NOW, you just wanted to eavesdrop.

The original voice kept talking: “Seriously dude! Did you see that one counselor moving in! She had all those supplies! Like the glitter balls and the pink stuff!! I mean like... This is summer camp! Not a slumber party!!”

That’s when you’d had enough. “That counselor” he was talking about was you.

You violently threw your body around the corner. You cocked your eyebrow and stuck out your hip at the guys in front of you.

You let them take in your angered appearance, squaring your shoulders and folding your arms over your chest.

“OH Shit” you heard the original voice guy whisper. You were quick to direct your look to him.

He starts stumbling over his words. It sounds like he might be trying to apologize but you could tell it was only because he had gotten caught.

You refused to give him any wiggle room, standing your ground, despite the fact that he is drop dead gorgeous. His jaw must have been chiseled by Adonis himself.

You see his eyes flash at your challenge to his authority.

Then he cleared his throat, collected his composure and said, “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Well that’s a shame, because I did. So, I’m glad to know your thoughts on my camp. I’ll be sure to spread the word to the other counselors that you don’t like the girls’ camps.”

He looked stunned. Almost like he had never been stood up to before.

He took a deep breathe before replying “well it’s not my fault that the boys’ music camp is the best camp”

And with that you allowed yourself to break your stance. You leaned forward as you sarcastically laughed before snapping yourself back up to meet his eyes.

“WOW that was funny.” You rolled your eyes. “That was the worst comeback I’ve ever heard… Anyway, the boys’ counselors are needed in the boss’ offices.” You say before you flipped your hair and turned to walk away. You smirked to yourself hearing the stunned silence behind you.

You turn back to your campers, hoping none of them heard your comment about him, to explain the introductory game.

Unfortunately, you see one little girl staring up at you with wide eyes.

Her voice was so small, you almost don’t hear her say, “What did you say?”

You can feel your hands go clammy as you are quick to think up a response.

“OH! I said... ummmmm DUCK HAND! Yes! The game we are about to play is duck hands. I don’t know why! But this game’s name is duck hands!” You go on to explain the game you had originally planned to play, except changing a few small details to include ducks… to sell the lie. The last thing you need is one of your 12 year olds telling your boss that you said, “fuck him,” about another counselor, of all people.

The flames are flickering against the black of the night. As per tradition of camp, it’s the first night bonfire. You’re frantically counting your girls trying to make sure they do not run off too far, as your preparing your marshmallow stick.

You hear someone approaching you from behind and let out a deep sigh, mentally preparing to answer whatever silly question the camper behind you has. You turn to face the small person behind you with a grin on your face, doing your best to fake some happiness in your eyes.

You are worn out and cannot wait for the campers to go to bed, so you can relax. Today has been stressful.

However, you were not met with a camper. When you turn you find yourself smiling at a chest, that is a little too close for your comfort. You look up and see his face and immediately your expression drops into an angry glare.

“What the hell do you want you?” you say, mimicking the disgusted tone he had used a few days ago when talking about your camp. You turn you back on him and go back to your marshmallow

“I just came to ask you what ‘Duck Hands’ is…” He smoothly replies.

You roll your eye, even though you know he can’t see them. He is clearly trying to get under your skin, again.

“It’s the introductory game I played with the girls this morning.” You respond shortly.

“I thought you had some other game planned? Or did Ms. ‘Your Game Is Stupid My Game Is Better’ decide to switch games!?!?” He faked shock.

You spin back around and poke a finger into his chest. “For YOUR information, it was the same game that I had planned on playing. I just changed the name.”

“Well why’d you do that?” He sounded genuinely interested and dipped his head a little to get a better look at you.

You hated that. He needs to just leave you alone. But you can’t help it when your stomach flips a little. You hate that too. He may be beautiful, but he sure is an asshole.

You take in a deep breath to let him know how annoyed you were becoming. You retract your hand, letting it fall to your side as you glare at him.

“I had to change the name because I mayyyy have cursed a little in front of a camper and had to cover it up.”

His eyes go wide as he looks at you. You can see the gears in his head turning.

“Wait… what did you say? And HOW does ‘duck hands’ cover it up?” He says as he scurries to your side so he can prepare a marshmallow stick too.

“I don’t really want to tell you.” You say flatly.

“Oh come on!” He bumps you hip against yours.

You have to focus extra hard to contain the smile that you feel trying to bubble up on your face.

“Are you seriously not going to tell me all that, and then not tell me what you said?” He eggs you on, bumping hips again.

“OKAY fine!” you hush your voice, “I said ‘fuck him,’ and then to fix it, I said ‘Duck Hands.’”

His mouth drops open a little bit. “well fuck” he whispers to you. You can see the gears in his brain turning, again. He’s not very good at having a poker face, but you don’t mind. His thinking face is pretty cute.

You shake your head to get the thought out of your mind.

‘You hate him, remember, Y/N?’

“WAIT!” He suddenly says. “who were you talking about?!”

You look off the side, away from him. “There’s no way I’m fucking going to tell you. Now if you excuse me, I need to go roast this marshmallow.”

You walk away leaving him stunned and speechless, again.

“Did he really say that?” Κatie asked.

“Yes way!” You responded to your roommate.

Katie rolled over on her bed to get a better look at your face.

“I don’t believe you.” You heard her say.

“Well, sorry to break it to you, but Sam, er Shane, or whatever he said his name was, definitely said that. And then had the fucking audacity to be a dick about it.” You said back to her.

You heard her shuffle in her bed and she goes quiet. You make a mental note not to curse around your roommate. She’s younger and this is her first year at this camp as a counselor, you probably shouldn’t make her more uncomfortable then she already is.

You sat in silence for a while, until you heard her speak again.

“I think he said his name was’ Shawn.’” She said.

You rolled your eyes. “I honestly don’t really care, he’s not a very nice person.”

It’s been a few days since you’ve had to interact with ‘Shawn’. However, because you are trying not to curse around Katie, the memory of your conversation with Katie burns in your brain constantly.

Which wouldn’t be a problem, except that you were talking about Shawn.

So, you have thoughts of Shawn constantly invading your brain.

Off in the distance, you see Shawn running up to you. You try to ignore him and turn to walk to the dining hall with Katie.

“Hey!” he calls, sounding a bit annoyed at your blatant attempt to ignore him.

You turn around to see him standing right behind you.

He takes another step closer to you, causing you to take one back.

“What do you want.” You say to him, more of a statement than a question.

“The boss wants to see us.” He says. He seems embarrassed to be talking to you in front of Katie, who looks absolutely terrified. “I don’t know what about... but I think it might have something to do with-”

Your eyes go a little wide. You cut him off, “ugh fine let’s go then.” You say as you start speed walking away from Katie. You turn your head and yell “I’ll see you at breakfast!” to Katie, noticing that Shawn is hot on your tail following you.

Your eyes meet Shawn’s and his annoyingly arrogant look returns to his face.

“Eager to be alone with me, I see?” he says.

You scrunch your nose at him and shoot him daggers with your eyes.

“Shut the fuck up! Katie is young and new. She’s uncomfortable with cursing. I didn’t want you to scare her!” you respond. You are not enjoying having to go anywhere alone with the asshole behind you, so you pick up your pace as you both make your way across camp.

“So now you’re a mama bear?” Shawn calls after you.

You bite your lower lip in frustration, trying to hold back the slew of words you want to say to him. You’re glad that he is behind you and can’t see that he’s successfully getting under your skin.

You finally arrive to the office cabin. But before you go inside, you feel a firm hand wrap all the way around your forearm, pulling you back.

You can feel your heartrate pick up and your breaths becomes short. You don’t want it to, but you can’t help it as Shawn is pulling you closer to his body.

He releases your arm, only to place both hands on your shoulders, holding you steady. He bends his head down a little and looks into your eyes.

You try pull back slightly, only to find that his grip on your shoulders is a lot stronger than you thought it was. You raise an eyebrow at him and give him your best confused look.

For a split moment, you find yourself lost thought,

‘How much muscle is he hiding under that shirt?’

His grip on your shoulders snaps you back to reality as he gives your shoulders a small squeeze.

He takes a breath, “I don’t know what’s going to happen in there, but I just wanted you to know that if you lose your job or something… I’m sorry.”

He releases your shoulders when try you pull out of his grip again.

You make sure your voice is silent, because you’re right outside of your boss’ office.

“Dude, no. I doubt that is going to happen. They probably just want to talk to us about some problematic campers or something.”

Shawn’s glace falls to the ground. You can see his jaw clenching up under his cheek. He eyes pop up to yours and you see his lips turn down into almost a frown, but angrier.

“Sorry, if I offended you, your highness, just thought I should try to be nice to you, in case things go sour”

You can hear the sarcasm dripping from his mouth.

You flip around and walk into the office, steam coming out of your ears.

Your boss is staring at you, waiting for one of you to respond.

“Y’all good?” they say.

Shawn is the first to speak.

“So, you want…” he points to you, “Her…. Camp to work with my camp?... for the upcoming showcase?”

Your boss looks him dead in the eye with no emotion.

“Yes? That is exactly what I just said.”

You feel your stomach tying itself in knots.

‘How the hell am I supposed to work with him? He hates me. I hate him. No fucking way are we going to be able to do this, I can’t even be near him without him doing something stupid.’

“Y/N?” Your boss is waving his hand in front of your face. “you ok with this?”

You shake your thoughts away. “Yeah sure, I guess.”

Your boss’ face lights up with excitement. “OK! Awesome! And just so you know, I will be expecting something from y’all as well! You two could kick off the showcase, be the opener!”

Both yours and Shawn’s mouth drop open as your boss begins pushing you out the door. “Ok! Your camps can start working together today! During their break! I’ll see y’all later”

Unfortunately, the day went quickly. After the regular beans and rice lunch, you find yourself counting your campers on the field.

You notice out of the corner of your eye that Shawn has begun leading his campers over to you. You can see the neck of his guitar case popping up from behind his head.

‘Of course this fucker plays guitar too’

It takes all of your concentration not to gag at the thought of having to work with Shawn.

You feel his hand touch your arm lightly to alert you to his presence. You and Shawn do a quick introduction of the project your boss wants the campers to do and then allow them to pair themselves off.

After seeing that all the campers are have a partner and are beginning to work, you see Shawn move to stand in front of you.

“hey..” Shawn says. There’s almost a hint of nerves in his voice.

You let out the breath you were holding and force yourself to look at him, hiding the annoyance behind your eyes. If you’re going to have to do this, you might as well pretend to be pleasant.

He lifts his hand up behind his neck. “So, um, we can sit over there, under that tree. For shade?” He says as he motions towards a tree off to the side of the field with his head.

“Yeah sure.” You respond, beginning to walk over there.

He follows right behind you and then promptly sits down into the grass.

“Ok so the project I have in mind is that your creative writing camp (motioning to you) and your music camp (motioning to Shawn) can work together to write songs!” Your boss said. “I think it would be good for the creative writers to try to work their skills in a new way, and for Shawn’s campers to learn how to write to someone else’s words. Obviously, it will be very difficult for them, but you both can help them along throughout the process.”

You’re staring down at Shawn now. Watching him, as he pulls his soft guitar case off his back and is pulling out his guitar. He’s lost in his own little world while checking the tuning of each string. Once he’s done he looks over to where you’re standing, suddenly looking confused. He motions to the spot on the ground next to him.

You fight back your instinct you scoff at him. Instead trying for a confused look, but pretty sure your face looks more like RBF.

“You just had to pick the only spot under the tree that is mostly dirt? Why don’t we sit over there? Where the grass is?” You say bluntly.

Shawn’s eyebrows fly up and as is now frantically looking at the ground, letting out a grunt when he seems to understand what you’ve said.

He suddenly starts tugging at his hoody by the neck, pulling it over his head.

“Here-” He says as he lays it out on the ground next to him. You notice that he places it closer to him that you probably would have sat.

“I’m not going to sit on your hoody, Shawn.”

“Oh, come on, Y/N! You need to sit and I don’t want to move.”

“Why did you even have a sweatshirt in the first place? It’s the middle of summer!”

“It’s cold in the dining hall, so I grabbed it before lunch.” He says matter of factly. “Just sit down, we need to get this song done.

“Ok fine whatever.” You say throwing your hands up in defeat.

You plop down next to him. You notice that your legs are only inches apart. You try not to roll your eyes, because you don’t want him to ask why you’re rolling them.

He pulls his guitar onto his lap and starts doing some random strumming. Playing through a couple chord progressions.

He looks up at you and a curl falls into his face. “What type of stuff do you usually write? Like do you have any poems or something we could use?”

You shift uneasily. You love your work and love sharing it, but something about revealing it to Shawn makes you hesitant.

Shawn senses your nerves, “I mean, like, um, if you want to. Well, we’re… supposed to let the writers write the lyrics, but I mean I could always write up something real quick. I write music all the time.”

And it’s when he offers to write it that you snap back. Part of you think that he actually might care about your feelings, but another part, a louder part, is telling you that he’s just trying to steal all the glory. There’s no way you’re going to let him write the music and the lyrics. And then take all the glory.

“Oh no! I have plenty of poetry we can use. Let me just grab my journal…”

You turn your back to Shawn as you dig through your string bag for your beat up old composition notebook. You smile as you pull out your familiar friend. The front is almost completely destroyed from the one time you spilt juice on it, which you’ve tried to fix with multiple layers of mod podge, which has turned into you mod podging your favorite photos and inspirational things onto the front.

You pull it out of your bag absent mindedly. But as soon as you see his eyes on your most prized position, you become anxious. It’s not like you haven’t shown people your writing before, you’ve shown who knows how many people this journal.

But showing it to Shawn? Your camp enemy? The boy that has somehow managed to sneak into your thoughts? You feel your chest tightening up.

Shawn is no longer staring at your journal, but at you. He’s waiting permission.

You shove your journal towards him. No point in stressing about this, you might as well rip off the bandaid.

Your mouth falls open into a ramble, “here look through it, I guess. Tell me if anything sticks out. It’s mostly all poetry, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find something.”

Remaining silent, Shawn reaches out and begins to flip through the pages. You busy yourself by pulling at sparse grass around you.

You notice a good amount of time has gone by, so you look over to Shawn. He is almost at the end of the journal, with various fingers marking pages in the book.

“Have you been reading them all???” you basically gasp, controlling your instinct to snatch your journal from him, because of his marked pages.

“um….. yeah….. I…. yeah….” He says, refusing to lift his eyes to you.

You can see a blush rise up his neck and touch his cheek.

He tries again, “I um… I’ve holding some pages, I wanted to mark them, but I didn’t want to doggy-ear your journal. I think one of these might work to turn into a song. Honestly, it’ll be really hard to choose just one. You’re a really talented writer.”

Now it’s your turn to blush. You’re told all the time that you’re talented, but to hear it from him is different. It’s almost like he’s admitting defeat.

You look off into the distance. But look back at him when you feel him shuffle closer to you, closing the gap between your sides. He leans over and is flipping to the pages he’s bookedmarked with his fingers.

Shawn speaks, “So um.. a lot of my favorites you probably won’t want to perform with me, so I should probably just forget it.”

You frown at him. “Well, let’s not narrow it done just yet, which ones did you like?”

You’re leaning into him now, trying to see your journal.

“Well, the problem is… you seem to write a lot of poetry about love and stuff…. And um I think some of your best stuff is on love….. and….. well…. You probably don’t want to do a love song with me… so, yeah…” Shawn relies.

Your face is now bright red. You hide your eyes from Shawn as you pull away from him, so that you both are no longer touching. You’re practically not even sitting on his hoody anymore.

“forget I said it.” Shawn frantically replies to your actions. “I can pick something else. I think I saw one I liked over here in the back,” he says as he’s flipping towards the back.

You notice that he’s kept one of his fingers between the pages. You also can’t help but notice that his finger bookmark is dangerously near your favorite poem.

‘You know what? Why the fuck not’

You take in breath, “Well, which one did you have in mind, they’re not all that bad. Which one is this?”

You grab the notebook out of his hands, making him completely lose his spot as he flips through the back pages. You’re careful to open the book to where his finger was.

You gasp.

‘Well fuck’

Shawn bookmarked your favorite.

Out of our peripheral, you can see Shawn blushing.

He opens his mouth, “um…. I really like that one…” His blush is becoming an even darker shade of red. “I like its flow… and it’s also just really good, in general”

You can see your own hand writing staring back at you:

FALLING: Sunrise with you on my chest No blinds in the place where I live Daybreak open your eyes Because this was only ever meant to be for one night Still, we're changing our minds here Be yours, be my dear So close with you on my lips Touch noses, feeling your breath Push your heart and pull away Be my summer in a winter day, love I can't see one thing wrong Between the both of us

Fast forward a couple years Grown up in the place that we live Make love, then we fight, Laugh because it was only meant to be for one night I guess we can't control What's just not up to us

You sit in silence as you and Shawn both reread it.

Shawn is clearly anxious. He has started fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

You can hear Shawn let out a breath and then start plucking his guitar. You pick up the pattern that he is playing, and you read your poem out loud to his guitar.

“Sunrise. With you on my chest. No blinds. In the place that I live.”

Shawn begins to harmonize with you, altering the original sound of your poem. He throws some words up high, and elongates some words, to give more of a melody.

Soon, you are all the way through the poem. You force yourself not to be the first to look up.

You can feel the heat on your cheeks. Then, you hear Shawn speak.

“well, that’s amazing. But it’s not quite a song yet, I think we need a chorus and bridge still.”

You look up and see that his face is red. You allow yourself to let out a small smile, knowing that it’s your words that had that effect on him.

“OK then, music boy, what do you suggest?”

“That’s not how it works, I can’t just pull a chorus out of my ass.” He says snarkly back to you.

And just like that, any magic that was built up in those few moments prior, is squashed. He killed them.

The next day you are preparing for another music writing session. Your boss has decided that for now, a part of your camps’ breaks will be used to write your songs.

You bump into Shawn walking out of the dining hall after lunch. The blush still spread over your cheeks and carrying across the top of nose.

“What’s so funny?” Anna had said.

Everyone seated around you was laughing, including Shawn. Shawn was belly laughing, throwing his head back.

You had been sitting at the long table full of camp counselors, as usual. Except this time, you noticed that Shawn was sitting fairly closer to you than normal. Usually, you and he were on complete opposite ends of the table. But this time, he was sitting closer to the middle on the opposite side as you, just close enough that if you spoke loudly, he might hear you.

You gave your attention to your friend that counsels the girls theatre camp. “Oh! Katie just made a really funny side comment! How did you not hear it? Even Shawn heard it, and he’s further down the table than you are!” you giggled.

You made eye contact with Shawn. Anna turned to Shawn. She asked, “What did Katie say?” in hopes that he could enlighten her.

Shawn looked away from Anna and back to you. He held your eye contact as a blush crept up his neck, reaching his ears. He said, “Oh, I didn’t actually hear it. It’s just she has this smile she does. When she’s about to laugh. And it was making me laugh.”

Anna looked disgusted and you dropped your face into your hands.

Katie and the others were still giggling at the previous joke, hadn’t even noticed the small conversation that just took place.

“I’m never smiling around you again.” You mutter to him.

You watch his face shoot red again.

“NOOooooo! I love your smile!” He whines as he bumps your shoulder.

After you get your campers settled, you walk over to the tree you sat under with Shawn.

Shawn is already there, in the same spot as yesterday, plucking his guitar and humming along.

You notice that he’s in the same spot as yesterday, and he has already laid out his hoody for you to sit on. You giggle as you plop down next to him.

His eyes shoot up to you with excitement, “I think I figured something out! I think it’ll make a good chorus!”

He starts plucking and strumming. Then, he looks up at you, staring directly into your eyes:

“You know I've been alone for quite a while

haven't I? I thought I knew it all

Found love but I was wrong

More times than enough

But since you came along

I'm thinking baby

You are bringing out a different kind of me

There's no safety net that's underneath, I'm free

Fallin’ all in”

______________________________

A few days pass and eventually the day of the showcase arrives.

You and Shawn have what you both think makes a good final product. You’ve completed the chorus, added harmonies, changed the name from ‘Falling’ to ‘Fallin’ all in’.

You’re very nervous to go on stage and perform. Especially because you will be performing one of your poems, and even more so because you will be SINGING one of your poem’s… with Shawn.

You’re trying not to shake, but you can’t help it. You’re nervous.

You feel Shawn place his arm around your shoulder, “You ready?” he says with a grin plastered across his face.

“No.”

“Oh, come on now. Don’t be nervous! You’re going to be amazing! You wrote the damn thing! And you have an amazing voice. So honestly, I don’t see why you’re worried.”

You lean into Shawn’s side and scoff.

“So, Mr. hotshot, you’re not nervous at all?” you say sarcastically.

“HA are you kidding me??? I’m Τ Ε R R I F I E D.”

You and Shawn are laughing now, while standing just off stage. You can hear your boss giving the final thank you introductions.

And then you hear your names.

“And up first, as our opener, we have our very own Camp Counselor Shawn and Camp Counselor Y/N!”

You can hear the applause but it doesn’t register, because all you can feel is Shawn’s hand grabbing yours, pulling you onto the stage.

Epilogue~~~

You are tearing up, watching your daughter board the bus.

“It’s only 3 weeks” you tell yourself. “she’ll be home in no time. She’ll be fine. She’s 12 years old now.”

You feel his strong arm wrap around your shoulders like it did all those years ago at camp.

You smile up to your husband, fighting back the tears.

As you walked off stage, you couldn’t believe it.

You had just performed your poem, adapted into a song, in front of at least two hundred people.

Mostly 12 year old campers, but still, people.

And they were cheering. Loud.

You had never heard such a loud cheer at a showcase. And you’d been doing the whole “camp” thing for a long time.

You turned around to see Shawn. But as you did, you felt Shawn grab your shoulders like he did the day you were assigned this project by your boss.

Only this time, instead of feeling him squeeze your shoulders, you felt his lips crash against yours.

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