Finally wrote another sexy twoshot for you guys! The actual lemon doesn't come until chapter two, but here's chapter one. Let me know what you think :)
"No, no baby. I'm sorry."
Freddie pauses after saying this to hear his girlfriends voice on the other line, sad and whiny.
"Yes I swear!" He argues "I completely forgot, I don't know what I was thinking."
"Of course you still mean everything to me! I messed up!"
Sam snickers at the brunette's phone conversation, crossing her arms over her chest and watching him more intently. "It's not your fault. I promise." He mutters into the phone.
She laughs when his voice comes back sweeter and softer. "Of course I promise! I'll see you tomorrow night, okay baby?"
Another high pitched screech comes roaring out of the phones speakers, but the blond can hardly understand it. "I know, I know." Freddie sighs. "I told you Em, I'm sorry."
He walks away so that Sam is no longer in earshot of his conversation with his college girlfriend. It's the middle of summer break, and both Sam and Freddie have been home from college for a couple of months. They've spent almost every night of the summer laying on either of their couches and drinking cheap alcohol, hardly ever attempting to gather enough energy to go out and be social with their old classmates like Carly does. Emily, Freddie's girlfriend, isn't aware of this. It's for the best, of course, seeing as she's...a bit of a nervous wreck.
Sam sighs and fiddles with the remote, switching channels mindlessly until Freddie returns. "What was that all about?" She snarls when he finally walks back into the room, his head hung low. "Did someone forget their little anniversary?"
"No." He shoots back with a huff. "Someone forgot to wish their girlfriends grandmother a happy birthday."
Sam bursts out in laughter. "What the hell is keeping you in this relationship, anyway?" She asks, taking a sip of her lukewarm beer and spitting it on the floor. "This beer is stale. You got anything else?"
He ignores both of her questions as he sinks deeper into the couch and sighs. "She's probably just PMSing. Whatever."
"Seems like Emily is always PMSing, huh?" The blond teases with a poke of her best friend's chest. He shoots her a look.
"Drop it." He mumbles and skims his hand over hers to pull the remote away and switch the channel on his own.
Sam's glare remains on Freddie, however, and he meets it, rolling his eyes. "What?"
"Do you even get laid?"
"Sam!"
"Well...Do you?"
His gaze sheepishly shifts to the floor and Sam gasps in a fit of laughter. "You've gotta be fucking with me!"
"Nope." He mutters. "Not at all."
"You've never even fucked her?" Sam asks, crossing her arms over her chest. "That's rough."
"Hey! I didn't say that we never did it...it's just not too...often."
"Then what's the point?" She asks absentmindedly. Freddie looks offended.
"You only hear the worst of her, she isn't-"
"She's a psycho, dude. And you don't even have sex. What's the point?" Sam repeats.
He rolls his eyes and gets up off the couch, giving Sam more room to sprawl out as he tosses her a wine cooler. "You must get laid all the time, then." Freddie says, his voice laced with sarcasm.
"Yeah" she shoots back "I do."
He raises an eyebrow. "Really."
"Yes, Fredward. I'm not all as repulsive as I seem" She gives him a sardonic smile "thanks."
"I never said you were repulsive."
"Mmhmm..." Sam replies with a roll of her eyes. Freddie doesn't respond, and the only sound filling the room is the Seattle rain pouring on the rooftop and the drone of the television neither of them had realized was still on.
Freddie sips his beer and raises his eyebrow at her, sheepishly asking "So...who?"
Sam clicks her tongue and crosses her arms over her chest, bitterly taking a sip of her wine cooler. "Not like you'd know them, anyway."
"Them? As in...multiple people...guys and girls?"
Sam lets out a breath of laughter as her eyes lock with his. "Mayyybe." She notices how her best friend's posture becomes stiff.
"Geeze..." He mutters.
Sam shoots him a look and chuckles slightly. She can't help but be slightly amused by Freddie's childish behavior. "Glad that's such a surprise to you, Frednard."
"Never said it was." He mumbles defensively. She just tips her head back to take another long sip of the wine cooler, discarding it on the floor once she's done.
"Another." Sam orders and Freddie nods, pulling himself off the couch to get more alcohol for her.
She smiles when he hands her another wine cooler with a smug look on his face. "Thanks."
"So..." The blonde begins in attempt to change the subject. Her eyes lock with his as she kicks her feet up on the table. "Why are you still with Emily?"
"Why?" Freddie repeats, lost in a train of thought. "I don't know."
"You know...if you weren't with her we could-" Sam stops talking abruptly, realizing she's not drunk enough to actually continue what she was going to say. She attempts to direct Freddie's attention to something else by chugging the rest of her drink, but it doesn't work like she'd hoped.
"Sam..." Freddie says, seemingly unsure of what he should reply to that.
"Forget it." Her voice is sharp and he nods softly, directing his gaze to the floor. The blonde takes one long last sip of her wine cooler and nods in Freddie's direction, silently asking him to bring her more once again.
He follows her in taking another large gulp of his beer and finishing it off, walking into the kitchen to grab another drink. He rummages through the fridge with a sigh, grabbing the only alcohol left; a full bottle of vodka.
Sam's voice returns, soft and promising. "You know, if you're not happy...you shouldn't stick around."
"I am happy."
"Really?" She gives Freddie a pointed look and he shrugs, popping the bottle open and taking a long swig, immediately passing it to her as the harsh alcohol burns his throat.
"Someone who is happy in a relationship typically doesn't take at least 5 shots when said relationship is brought up in conversation." Sam pauses "Or sit this close to their best friend while they're both undoubtedly drunk and horny."
Freddie shifts away from Sam when he realizes that her words aren't too far from the truth. "I would rather be unhappy in a relationship than be alone, you know?"
"Um...no." She snaps.
He sighs. "I just like having her. Having someone."
"That's so incredibly stupid, Fredward. What, are you gonna marry her and be miserable for the rest of your life? Oh, but at least you have someone!" Sam says harshly.
"I'm not gonna marry her, it's just nice having her for the time being."
"You're so clueless!" She exclaims, taking a large swig of vodka and shoving the bottle back into Freddie's hands.
"So what if I am? I don't want to be lonely." Freddie says defensively.
"You're ridiculous." Sam snarls.
"Why?!"
She dismisses the question "You ever cheat on her?"
Freddie looks disgusted by the thought. "No!"
She raises an eyebrow as the phone on the table next to them starts blaring Freddie's ringtone. "Speak of the devil." Her eyes shift to the PearPhone and she sighs. "Talk to her."
"Sam! I'm drunk."
"I know. Answer the phone."
"Sam..." Freddie repeats hesitantly.
She moves closer to his face to lock their eyes and whisper "Come on." She runs a lone finger up his arm and he shudders, nodding slowly.
Sam's eyes are widened and for some reason Freddie is unsure of, he actually presses the bright green answer button. He moves the phone to his ear but Sam nudges it away, insisting that he put it on speaker.
Sam can already tell how frazzled Fredward's girlfriend is by the way she starts the conversation. "Freddie?!"
"Emily...hey." Freddie's voice is unexpectedly calm when he responds.
"Did you get my text?" She demands.
"I didn't check."
Emily snickers into the phone "Glad I can always count on you to willingly communicate with me."
"God, Em. We aren't starting this again, are we?" He asks helplessly.
"I'm not starting anything, Freddie. Just letting you know that when two people are dating, they have to actually communicate."
"Emilyyyyy." He drones out. "Honestly."
"Maybe..." She mumbles into the phone, her voice cracking unexpectedly. "Maybe I want to feel important every once in awhile!"
"Yeah, well maybe I want you to show some goddamn interest in me every once in awhile! We can't always get what we want, can we?"
"Oh, I don't show interest in you?" Freddie's girlfriend asks with a bitter chuckle. "Yeah fucking right."
Sam tries to ignore their consistent bickering, sliding away from Freddie and kicking her feet up on the table. Her head has started pounding and she realizes that the large consumption of alcohol has finally caught up to her in the worst way. Her stomach is churning with nausea and she groans.
Freddie's tone has come to nothing but whiny and annoyed, and he clearly doesn't want to be in this conversation anymore. Sam leans back, muttering "Just hang up, dude."
He shakes his head and turns the phone off of speakor, bringing it to his ear. Sam mutters "I feel like shit, gonna take a shower."
Freddie gives her a solemn nod as he yells "I do everything I can in this goddamned relationship! It takes two to fucking tango, Emily."
Sam raises an eyebrow at his last words as she stumbles out of earshot. She can't help but feel deflated when she makes her way into the bathroom and leans on the sink to gaze into the mirror. Her eyes are red and her expression is blank. Her makeup lays beneath her eyes, resting on deep circles.
She rolls her eyes at her reflection. Regret is typical for nights like these. There's a thin line between being a good, charismatic type of drunk and nearly crying while shakily standing in front of the bathroom mirror.
She stumbles to take her clothes off and discard them messily on the floor, turning Freddie's shower on the highest setting. His mother isn't home all summer because of a nurses retreat, meaning Sam is free to use and abuse the apartment as often as she pleases. Which is pretty often.
Hopping in the shower, Sam cringes at the hot water but still lets it wash over her, combing soft fingers through her hair as she attempts to stand up without stumbling over. She closes her eyes in attempt to solve her pounding headache, but that only makes it worse. She can hear Freddie aruguing from a few rooms away and it does absolutely nothing to help with the way she's feeling.
"God dammit!" A yell echoes from the kitchen, followed by the loud crash of glass coming in contact with the tile floor.
This, of course, causes Sam's knees to go weak as she falls over and groans, pushing the shower door open, preparing to inspect the incident in the kitchen. Luckily, she doesn't have to, as an aggregated, shirtless Freddie stands in front of her already, his arms crossed over his chest.
Sam hugs her knees to her chest as her soaking wet body sits on the shower floor. "What'd you do." She asks, her voice lacking any real emotion.
"Smashed that bottle...uh, by accident." Freddie tears his gaze away from her. "Sorry."
She shrugs. "It's your house."
"Yeah...well..." He mutters, raising his eyebrows.
"I take it that she dumped you?"
He laughs bitterly. "The other way around."
"Really." Sam says while trying to avoid getting water in her eyes. "Good for you."
"Doesn't feel so good right now."
She gives Freddie a sympathetic sigh and attempts to pat his leg as he looks down at her, only getting his pants soaking wet in the process.
"Can I join you?"
Sam's gaze redirects to her shirtless best friend and she gives him an amused look in response. "What, in the shower?"
"Uh, yeah. The shower." Freddie mutters. Before Sam can even respond, his socks are discarded on the bathroom floor. She gives him a supple nod and his pants join the pile of clothes as he climbs into the shower next to her.
She removes her knees from her chest and stands up, suddenly face to face with her naked, soaking wet best friend. She wonders if they're just going to start fucking full fledged or at least set up some rules like a half civilized person would.
Before Sam can finish her thoughts, Freddie leans in closer, so much that she can feel his warm breath on her face. "Shouldn't doubt you so much, Princess Puckett."
Reaching down to give him a small, playful squeeze between his legs, she mumbles "Rule number 1" She pauses to give him a soft peck on the lips and returns with a sly smile. "Don't fucking call me that."