Sam didn't mean to stare, really. She was just curious as to when Freddie got those and when his voice carried out with a raspy lilt. It was funny because now she was watching the way his jaw tensed while editing and it was just kind of pretty?
Sam acts on impulse, so it wasn't a surprise when the soft fabric of Freddie's shirt pooled between the crevices of her fingers. Sam always got what she wanted. Carly laughs it off as banter because that's what Carly does. Freddie pushes Sam off and she's almost hurt until she remembers that he can't hear her thoughts. She goes back to rehearsing and let's a playful retort of, "nub," slip from her lips.
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Their second kiss happens at school. It's needy and wanting, calloused hands fingering at the taut skin of a smooth waist. It's everything Sam wants and maybe she enjoys the feeling of straining muscles against a shirt, a little too much. Freddie pulls away, hair slightly mussed and lips red. It's all pretty to Sam. His jaw tenses and Sam's starting to think its habitual for Freddie to be this broody. He turns on his heel to go back to Carly because that's how it supposed to be. It's always Carly.
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She has to remember that there is no SamandFreddie, even as she finds them kissing for a third time. His hands trail along her sides, kisses transferred along the skin of her neck. They're pressed impossibly close now, hands on hot skin, eyes not quite meeting. It's all so wrong, Sam thinks. She finds them entwined in the sheets of his bed, his lips moving against the clothed expanse of her thigh. She'd find the gesture almost loving if she knew that Freddie reciprocated her feelings, but he didn't because its CarlyandFreddie.
They divest themselves of clothes and Freddie takes her in, blonde ringlets fanned across the crisp sheets of his bed, swollen lips parted and cheeks flushed. His breath ghosts over her panties and she moans because the aspect of it is wrong. He moves inside of her after a affirming nod and its all a bit sloppy. When Sam finishes, she arches against him and Freddie is actually stupefied by how beautiful she looks, face tinged pink and lips parted, chanting a silent mantra of Freddie. Freddie moans a incoherent mess of Carly and Sam's name or maybe it was somewhere in between. Freddie sends Sam a look, an apologetic glint in his eyes. Sam raises her hand and mutters a soft, "just stop." Because she knew the risks and she knew Freddie wouldn't love her anyway.
"Sam, I-," his voice is desperate and Sam cuts him off because they weren't meant to happen.
"Freddie, it's Carly and it always will be," she offers no elaboration and Freddie doesn't object because its the truth and they both know it.